A solid bump with the door-frame stirred my consciousness.

"Jesus, old man, how heavy are you?" Someone was pulling me along. The male voice barely registered. I groaned.

"We've got to go."

"Nnghh?" I tried to eloquently phrase a response and all that came out was incoherence matching a drunken bar hopper.

"Your boy on the phone said we’ve got to get moving." Cliff's words came by. At least, it sounded like him.

My legs weren't working, again. It felt like they were constantly failing me when needed. Today’s excuse was jumping down to an alley floor from the rooftop. That had to count for something. I rarely even saw wolves try that kind of maneuver and they could throw cars.

"This way. It's clear over here." A female voice spoke that belonged to Mrs. Richards. She was doing something, scouting ahead maybe.

"Hurrbble." Sneezing dogs would have been proud of my articulation. "Wherrbidat." Nothing came out right.

"Mom! I can't lift this geezer!"

"Be nice!" I heard her footsteps coming over. The sirens were getting closer. My attempts to figure out where I was and what was going on were failing.

"Mom, just help me!"

"Holy fuck he's heavy." Mrs. Richards said.

"No joke!" Her son responded.

They tried to lift me. Now I knew for sure neither one belonged to a race with unnatural strength. Their support was enough for me to get one leg under my body. I wasn't broken or beaten but winded from gunfire. My arm hurt like hell where Cliff was pulling. That couldn't be helping me heal.

"Let's go, this way!" The teen shouted in my head.

Eyesight still hadn't recovered. Everything else felt even more damaged than it had. The very thought of tracking anything made me retch. The world was dark, even the minimal recovery of my senses, the ones I'd been using to get around, felt disjointed.

I hadn't even managed to stand for more than five seconds before Cliff and his mother shoved me onward. The teen put something plastic in my hands. It was tiny and light. I lifted it in hopes this was a cell phone.

"Jay?" A voice said in my ear. It made my head throb.

"Too loud." I winced. The pounding was miles worse than a hangover.

"Jesus motherfucking Christ. What the hell is wrong with you?" Daniel was speaking with a sharp tone. It took a moment to process exactly how unhappy he was. He was somewhere above hair pulling but below nuclear strike.

"I said lay low. Lay low means lay low, man, not whip out your junk and slap the Head Alpha!" Daniel was shuffling things around. It sounded like filing cabinets were being slammed.

"Too loud." My protest came out again.

"DEAL WITH IT!"

"This way, come on. We can slip into the parking lot through here." Cliff was leading us somewhere. Between Daniel's screaming, my headache, and the mother and son leading us who knows where, well, things were messy.

"There were people."

"Really? Did you think there wouldn't be? Do all your plans take place in a dream world where no one is impacted by the clusterfucks you leave behind?" Great, Daniel was unleashing sarcasm. "Tell me what was so damned important you had to light up the world, again, again Jay!"

"Lady and some funny twins.” I wanted to sound coherent despite my hangover and almost made it. “Took off the trinket."

"What?" Daniel’s ranting stopped completely.

"Stay here, mom's getting the car." My brain shifted gears to Cliff and I tried to figure out where we were. A sidewalk of some sort next to a parking lot perhaps? The background noises weren't very helpful. I wanted to crawl into a hole and sleep for weeks.

"Jay. One more time, man, what happened?" Daniel spoke up in my ear again. I'd have to just trust Cliff and his mother at this point.

"A lady took off the trinket," I said.

"I don't believe it, man." He was quiet. It was the bad kind. It was the silence before a storm. "You let someone take off the trinket?"

"It was that or be shot."

"Meet me at Bottom Pit." The Agent said.

"I can't just..." I started to protest. Cliff wasn't of age, and his mom would like it even less.

"Bottom. Pit." Daniel cut me off.

"I didn't-" My second attempt treated the same way.

"Bottom. Pit." He uttered. I don't know how, but his words got even colder.

We weren't friends right now. Judging by the tone in his voice it was questionable if we'd ever be friends again. Having my trinket removed had been so incredibly bad that Daniel wasn't in the mood to argue.

Once before Daniel had dared to boss me around, and I'd backed him down. Not this time. The suppressed version of me had nothing left. Freshly put down. Extra abilities taxed beyond the breaking point.

"Alright." I found agreeing easier to deal with for the moment.

"Jesus. Jesus, man." He finally snapped, yelled, and a crash came through over the line. Then the phone went dead with a rattle of noise.

"Kid."

"Yeah, old man?"

"Can you see if he hung up?" I fumbled the phone over to where Cliff sounded like he was. Thin fingers took it.

"Yeah," Cliff said after a few choice words regarding my archaic piece of crap phone.

"Check the history, call the number just before that one."

"Okay. Who is it?"

"Somewhere safe for you," I answered. Those three had been chasing after Muni, and who knew why. This kid was tied to her somehow. After all, he had that strange double face that I wish I could see. *Then hunkering down with his mom and being overlooked while the others ran off.

"I was doing fine before you came along." The youngster said.

"Sleepless nights. Freezing cold. Stealing to survive. Fights." I was trying to recount the things I'd had to do to survive over my years of wandering. And talk straight. The pain was becoming manageable. "You were doing fine."

"I was fine."

"Maybe." I didn't care enough to argue anymore. "Anyone follow us?"

"No one's following, I'm not stupid." He used that annoyingly defensive tone all people gained upon turning thirteen. The one that implied I was stupid for evening thinking he might miss something.

"Did you look up?" My finger pointed upwards.

"What?"

"Helicopter." I could hear the sound of blades spinning. Probably not looking for us. News maybe, police maybe, looking for anyone at the scene of the crime. Chances were someone had cried wolf, literally, and Western Sector had been sent out.

"So?" Cliff said.

A car horn honked and cut me off with a surge of head pain. There had been things I wanted to explain. That any of the extra races could follow us without being in direct line of sight. Hell, let's hope they weren't trailing us with an elf or wolf. At least vampires would be asleep right now.

"Mom can drive you, get in." The teen acknowledged my general blindness. I was surprised he hadn’t asked about all the other events which happened in that alley. Maybe he was used to weird stuff, or it was an unspoken rule not to pry.

"No, Cliff, I'm taking us home. He's done his job." Mrs. Richards had shifted in attitude. "We got him away, I owed him that, but we don't have to put up with this."

"I can't go home!" Cliff shouted.

"Why not? It's where you belong." They were yelling at each other. It sounded like Mrs. Richards was in some driver's seat yelling across the passenger side. Her words were nearly lost in the hum of a car engine.

"I couldn't go home because they would kill you and dad! Or my friends!" Cliff's voice shook with the sudden snap of admissions. I barely felt phased.

"That's silly, why would anyone need to threaten us?"

"It's not you, they wanted Auntie Hramn." His voice was cracking. Hell. Puberty was a terrible time in general. Add running away on top it? The kid would probably break down the minute anyone gave him space to breathe.

"What? Why would they want Muni? She's so sweet."

"Can we just go? I have some place safe for us." I tried to offer a peaceful solution. At least until Mrs. Richards saw the scantily clad females running around.

"He says he has a safe house," Cliff said.

"What? Who just has a safe house? Who needs one?" Mrs. Richards asked in a perplexed tone. At least she wasn't yelling anymore.

"You do," I said. Even though Bottom Pit wasn't really a safe house. My impression, my vague memory, and what Roy had said, all implied the location was a gathering point for Hidden. Imposing on them shouldn't be an issue, assuming Cliff and Muni had more than an accidental relationship.

"Swear we'll be safe," She said.

Fingers fumbled on the car roof and I leaned down, trying to find the window without being able to see it. My nose bonked into the side of the little car. Pain was becoming a theme in my life.

"I found your son, didn't I?" I said.

There was no verbal response. The door unlocked, though. I backed up to the rear seats and let Cliff have the front one. A sane person like me wouldn't be in the middle of that awkwardness if I could help it. Family reunions were low on my list of things to witness.

"Where is this safe house?"

"Bottom Pit," I said.

"Bottom what?" Mrs. Richards asked. I sighed. She was completely clueless. This would be a wake-up call. My directions were vague at best. The woman grumbled and drove us off while arguing with her son.

I dialed Bottom Pit's number. It was a general help desk, but something was better than nothing. Random unfamiliar female number five answered. The background sounded noisy. After a brawl, their foot traffic would skyrocket for a few months. The moment I mentioned my name and Roy's name in conjunction there was a brief and panicked demand for me to wait on hold.

"John." Another female voice answered. This one I did know. The anger and a slight hint of an accent. Her full on freckled body and red hair popped into mind.

"Wylde," I said.

"Yet again your name comes up. I'm beginning to dislike you. Which is a shame. Your fight was fantastic."

"I'm looking for Roy."

"Roy is indisposed." She sounded angry. It could have been at me, or in general. I understood the emotion. It colored every view I had of the world.

I took a shuddering breath and tried to stay calm. "Is he okay?"

"It's none of your business." Boss Wylde answered.

"We're family." I gritted my teeth. Roy had said that a few times. "His well-being matters."

Boss Wylde sighed in return and it felt a lot like my own had been. "He's with his father, I am not the sort to harm my employees."

Satisfied, I hung up. There was no telling what Wylde knew or didn't know about me. She seemed to only have a vague clue who I was based on our brief encounters. The woman at least knew I was a former brawl champion where I hadn’t remembered that tidbit until seconds before the fight.

I needed to get ahold of Roy. The car kept driving. Mrs. Richards and her son both seemed to be holding their breath. Maybe they were waiting for me to say something. I couldn't tell how close we were to our destination.

"Where are we?" I asked.

She gave me a cross street and I overlaid it with my mental map of the city. Some roads were mysteries but most of the main ones were stored in memory. I'd walked these streets for almost a decade before my four-year vacation. This whole situation nagged at me. It was too easy to escape from that woman and her strange echoing twins.

"There should be a gas station ahead, pull over there. Park along the side." I directed her to a stopping point. Would Cliff be able to spot a tail if I told him what to look for? Come to think of it, how did I have a clue? I filed the mystery away. Maybe it was just a matter of logic. "Mrs. Richards, can you grab some food from inside? Cliff's probably starving."

"I completely am," He said.

Mrs. Richards clucked at herself. She was probably upset about not noticing sooner. Cliff was a teenage boy who likely hadn't eaten a real meal in days.

"Okay, what do you want?" She was polite enough to think of me.

"Doesn't matter," I said.

"Donuts. Chips. Peanut butter cups." Cliff gave an excited list. "Jerky. Lots of jerky." He paused and I could almost hear the drool. "Chicken. If they have chicken."

She rattled around in her handbag, gave Cliff a kiss on the cheek that was absurdly loud then got out of the car.

"Cliff.” My mind played through an ordered list of ways to spot a tail. “Look around for cars that are just sitting there. Anyone who isn't getting out. Probably three people in it, maybe just two. Male and female. In business suits."

"The people that were in the alley, right?" He asked. The boy was smart enough to catch on quickly.

"Yes." I nodded, but there was no clue which way Cliff was looking right now.

"Do you think they followed us?"

"Probably." Maybe Roy or Daniel had a plan, just in case.

The teen flipped around in his seat with an obvious jerk. Then, hopefully, started looking around. It was impossible for me to do it with my eyesight still broken. I tried to stay calm. If we were being following then it would be terrible for me to just go straight there. I'd wanted to talk to Roy and see if there was some sort of plan.

My phone rang. I handed it to Cliff. He identified it as a blocked number. That didn't mean much to me, half my contacts probably had blocked numbers. I answered, hoping it was someone who could help us.

"Jay?" Daniel’s voice sounded much calmer.

"Yeah." I acknowledged.

"Where are you?"

"A few blocks out." I gave him the address from what Mrs. Richards had told me. "We may be followed."

"I don't see anyone," Cliff said.

"Keep looking." I waved a hand towards the front of the car. "Check across the street, other parking lots, that kind of thing."

"Who's that?" Daniel asked.

"Muni's godson. Cliff Richards."

"Cliff?" Daniel sounded surprised and confused. It wasn't often anyone knew something he didn't. "Little Cliff?" Of course Daniel knew who he was.

"Not so little." I tried to remember how Cliff had felt when tracking him. The boy had been tall, lanky. Eventually, he'd fill in, especially if he kept up the sports.

"Why's he there?"

"The lady who," I wasn't sure how to say this without setting off Daniel again. "removed the trinket, was using him as bait."

"For who?" Daniel went from calm to rattlesnake deadly in a heartbeat. "For you, man?"

"No. Muni."

For a moment, no words came through the phone line. It wasn't completely silent. It sounded like Daniel was hitting something over and over. While that happened my phone chirped like another call was coming in. There was no time to switch or review it. Probably a telemarketer anyway.

There was another voice in the background. Too low for me to distinguish any words. The line grew muffled as Daniel and the second voice talked about something. Finally, my friend came back on the line.

"Sit tight, Roy's going to send some of his Tribe out there. They'll canvas the area and bring you in." The Agent said.

"Thanks." I felt grateful for any assistance.

The phone dropped. At nearly the same time Mrs. Richards opened the door and slipped in with food. Cliff, true to teenage form, dug through the bags immediately and started stuffing his face. Wrappers crackled, liquid sloshed, it was kind of sickening to imagine what was going on. He sounded like a pig at the trough.

Nothing made it back to me and that was okay. I massaged at my arms and legs, trying to get down to the core parts of my body that throbbed in pain. My discomfort was probably mental. The repetitive motions helped soothe me a little.

"We're waiting for someone," I said.

Mrs. Richards hadn't spoken since she got back in the car. From the posture, the sound, the general feeling in the air, she was probably staring at Cliff. They'd been separated for weeks at least.

I understood a little. After returning home I spent a day buried downstairs, straightening everything out in my apartment. Sure, it wasn't living and breathing like a child was, but it was my stuff. It had to be that much more intense with a living person. Kahina had been that way when I got back.

Cliff kept eating. His mother stayed silent. I tried not to relapse into mourning. It was better to focus on the happy moments. Late morning movies, the park after dark tours. Every so often I remembered she was with another man and had to chase the thoughts away with something else. Ten minutes passed with each of us lost in our own little dramas.

A knock on the window broke the turbulent reverie. I had no clue who was out there. It made me jump, knowing that someone had snuck up so close without an ounce of sound.

"There's a man outside." Cliffs voice quivered around a mouth full of food. I sighed. Clearly there was someone out there. The question was, who?

"Roll down the window," I suggested.

"He's got a gun. Do your friends have guns?" Mrs. Richards had a clear undertone of panic.

"Probably." Was my answer.

"Get out!" The man shouted.

I let myself out of the car. The voice was one I recognized. The slur of words, sounding like a mouthful of marbles, pitch, tone. Everything was familiar.

"What’s going on?" Mrs. Richards asked.

"We're stealing your car," Roy said with a grunt.

Oddly, my eyesight recovered just in time to see Roy punch me in the face. A second figure started kicking at me. Not hard, but enough to deter standing. The last thing my ears registered was a voice telling Mrs. Richards not to scream or she'd be shot.

This was a shitty day.