Quin shakes my arm and we continue across the bridge.
The lane we step onto is covered in broken red brick, grass sporadically trying to reach for the sun through the pavers. A stone wall about four feet high lines one side of the lane, with the river running along the other. We walk south along the wall, only spotting the occasional person scurrying down the path, avoiding all eye contact, heads bent down, feet shuffling as he or she goes. We turn right, following the wall. Three story dwellings are crammed together along the lane. I hear voices next to us and look up to see a Regulator’s tower standing in the middle of the field the stone wall has surrounded, with a monitor affixed to the side of the structure displaying the same scenes we saw earlier.
Quin and I continue to walk; I’m watching the screen while he seems to be counting the doors of the houses.
“This one,” he says, as he pulls me around the corner and up to a glass door.
He goes right in without knocking, and walks up the set of stairs in the front entranceway. We climb to the top floor, go down a dank, narrow hallway and stop in front of room 313. Quin knocks once, then twice, then three times. I hear movement on the other side of the door, which opens, revealing a tiny room with five people sitting around a table, playing cards. I hear the same voice from the screen outside echoing from somewhere beyond the door.
“Can I help you?” A young woman with long red hair, thin fingers, and slight build says after she opens the door only part way.
“Thomas sent us,” Quin says to the woman, while watching the people at the table. They seem to be too wrapped up in their card game to notice us.
“Come in,” the woman says, as she opens the door wider, allowing us entry. She gestures for us to have a seat on a pale orange couch that looks like it could double as a bed. She sits on a small chair opposite us, her gray clothing bunching around her waist and ankles as she sits down. “What can I help you with?”
“We need passage to Acheron,” Quin says, as he leans forward, arms resting on his knees.
“That’s a pretty serious request,” the young woman proclaims, as she stands up and begins to pace behind her chair.
The group playing cards begin to argue over the number of cards that have been dealt.
“Why would you want to go to Acheron?”
“That is a private matter,” Quin states, shortly.
I can feel the agitation building in his body as he stiffens, balling his hands into fists that still rest upon his knees.
“Well, if I’m to risk my life for the two of you I certainly want to know why.”
“Let’s go, Quin, this is a waste of time.” I stand up and head for the door.
“You’re not going anywhere,” one of the men at the table says, as he rises out of his seat and lunges for me.
I whip the cane around and crack him in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. Another card player grabs the arm with the cane, and twists. I take my free hand and grab him around the throat, squeezing until his eyes roll into the back of his head, watching with a grin as he falls to the floor.
Finally, some real action. Let’s see who I can kill today.
The lone female player jumps on my back, driving something sharp in between my shoulder blades. I reach over my shoulder, grab her by the hair, and throw her across the room, into the cabinets. After removing the knife sticking out of my shoulder, I seize our hostess and fling her to the floor, putting the knife to her throat.
“Now, are you going to help us or not?” I say through gritted teeth, sweat dripping down my face.
The woman is crying as I continue to press the knife into her throat, cutting her. A hand touches my shoulder and I watch as Quin reaches for the knife. I look up at him, watching his mouth move, but I don’t hear the words that he’s speaking.
“Meg,” he says to me.
Meg? My name is Trea.
“Meg snap out of it.”
I look at him for a moment then down at my hands and recoil in horror as I see the knife covered in blood, a terrified look upon the woman’s face. I drop the weapon and slink back against the wall, knees up to my face. Quin tends to the injured as I try to secure Trea back into the recesses of my mind.
What causes me to lash out so much? The littlest thing seems to set me off now.
I stay in my little spot for some time, afraid to talk or move, as the small apartment is placed back into order. The card game resumes while dinner is prepared. Quin is talking with our hostess and making plans for our trip. They decide it will happen the day after tomorrow, though I catch only snippets of the conversation.
Room is made for us at the table when dinner is ready. The man I choked kneels down in front of me, offering his hands to assist me in standing. I shake my head no, as I’m too embarrassed about my earlier actions.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says in a sweet voice. “We’ve gotten worse from the Regulators.”
I smile slightly and take his hands as he introduces himself to me as Jagger, then brings me over to the rest of his housemates: Naomi, Bea, Karl, Faber, and Cass.
We
