Elias finally settled his internal debate with a brisk nod. “He set you up.” His jaw tightened. “He’s setting everyone up.”
“So do you believe Puppy or do I have to let her go?” Annette held back the growling Clary.
Kenuda nodded, rubbing his thigh.
Puppy filled him in while Annette found more food for Clary, who slowly speared potatoes drenched in catsup, wary eyes never leaving Kenuda. He paced around the couch like an electric train.
“The orders are to shoot you on sight.”
“All of us?” Annette asked, frightened.
“Just him. But…” Kenuda gestured helplessly. “Clearly anyone who harbors Puppy…” his voice trailed off; they all stared at Clary.
“I won’t put anyone at risk anymore,” Puppy stood.
“Sit down, you fool,” Kenuda snapped. “I’m already halfway under the wheels.” He slowly let out all the air in his body like a tire going flat, beckoning Puppy.
“You two, stay.”
Light from the hallway spilled onto Pablo’s blank face. Kenuda firmly closed the door, giving Puppy a moment to regain his legs. He sat on the edge of the bed and held Pablo’s hand.
“Oh Pablo,” he whispered.
Pablo stared at the wall.
“It’s Puppy.” Puppy kept his eyes on his friend. “What did they do to him?”
“I don’t know. He was in BT custody. The damn diner. ’Bots. Waiters, Mooshie. They never shut the program down.” Kenuda sighed. “I think he can hear.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve tried asking him questions. He reacts without saying anything.”
Puppy stared deep into Pablo’s dark eyes. “Are you in there?”
His right eye blinked twice.
Yes.
“Can you gesture?”
One blink. No.
Tears slid down Pablo’s cheeks.
“He’s also done that a few times,” Kenuda said hoarsely.
“What did they do to you?”
“Come on, man, do you expect him to answer that?”
Puppy gestured. Are you okay.
One blink.
Did they hurt you.
One blink. Two blinks. One blink.
Are you scared.
Two blinks. Puppy stifled a sob and opened his palm to show the marble. Puppy didn’t even bother holding back the tears anymore.
“Let him rest.” Kenuda took Puppy back into the living room, where he handed out stiff bourbons to the adults and a fizzy cola to Clary. “We’ve got to get you away, Puppy.”
“Both of us,” Annette said firmly.
“Certainly not,” Kenuda said.
“Absolutely,” Puppy agreed.
Annette lashed them with a hard stare. “I’m glad you decided for dumb Annette. But I’m as big a criminal as he is.”
“Not quite. I did supposedly kill Grandma,” Puppy said dryly.
“I helped you escape.”
“We can sweep that aside,” Kenuda said.
“Can you protect me anymore, Elias?”
After a pause, he shook his head sadly.
“Maybe you and I could discuss this privately,” Puppy said softly.
“Don’t you want me?” she asked, hurt.
“I guess I have no choice.”
“Well gee, thanks for that.”
Puppy and Kenuda exchanged comradely I’ve-been-there looks. The Commissioner disappeared into his study. Annette glared at Puppy.
“What?” he asked.
“You could act more excited that I’m coming. Like just a little.”
Returning, Kenuda cleared his throat with a faint smile, relieved it was Puppy on the end of this Annette barrage, and handed them each a thin envelope. “There’s an emergency protocol now. All Cousins receive travel passes to anywhere in the country.”
“I just keep running until they catch me?”
“Us,” Annette corrected him.
“What good does that do?” Puppy asked Kenuda. “And how does that stop Cheng?”
“Okay Puppy, now you want to kill the First Cousin?” Annette asked, alarmed.
“Someone better,” Kenuda said grimly.
“You can.”
Kenuda nodded to himself, glancing at F-26 fighters taking off on the vidnews. “There are also other protocols that can be implemented in an emergency. Every First, Second and Third Cousin had a corresponding contact outside the country in case something blew up. They’re called Collectors. I believe because they all own antique shops featuring the shattered Judeo-Christian world.” He laughed bitterly. “Mine’s in London.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to England,” Annette said cheerfully.
“Good. Because there’s a plane,” Kenuda said. Their mouths dropped. “Leaves once a week from Westchester. That’s all this says.” Elias dropped another packet onto the coffee table.
“A plane. Okay. So I, sorry, we go to London. Then what?”
“You stop World War Four and a nuclear holocaust.”
“Well put, Elias. You’ve totally appealed to Puppy’s sense of destiny,” Annette said.
Clary made rat-tat-tat sounds at a F-26 shooting down a Holy Drone. The adults pursed their lips. Puppy sat beside the little girl.
“Bang bang. Crusaders matar Allah,” he said softly.
“Si. Finalmente.” Clary threw up her hands expressively.
“But matar bad. Puppy stop it.”
“No, matar Allahs.” She bared her teeth.
He shook her shoulders. “Too many die. Puppy’s amigos. Clary’s amigos. Clary’s Mama. Clary’s Papa.” Her mouth quivered. “No more matar.”
Clary was unconvinced, staring sullenly.
Annette sat on the other side. “Puppy and I go.”
The girl sighed wearily and started putting on her shoes, muttering darkly.
Annette took away the sneaker. “Honey, we have to go alone.”
Clary’s eyebrows knitted angrily. “No Clary?”
“Too dangerous. Bang, bang,” Puppy said.
“Clary not scared. Clary help.”
“You stay here and we’ll come back,” Annette said.
Clary’s eyes flitted between them. Her mother had told her not to worry. Her father had told her not to worry. And where was Zelda and el bebe? She snatched back the sneaker and continued lacing up.
“Clary go.” She calmly put on her coat and adjusted her sunglasses. “No matar Allahs.” She curtsied. “Clary nice to Allahs.”
Annette cupped Clary’s face to stop it from shaking no. “We love you.” She looked at Puppy. “How do you say we love you in Spanish?”
“You just did.” Puppy hugged the tearful Clary. “You stay with Uncle Kenuda.”
Clary made a feral sound and stared hungrily at the Third Cousin’s shin.
• • • •
ANNETTE COMPLAINED INCESSANTLY as they edged down the Grand Concourse at three in the morning. It was cold. It was windy. Her back hurt from carrying the backpack stuffed with clothes. She had blisters on her feet. The sneakers were ugly.
If so much weren’t at stake, she would’ve welcomed the butt end of a BT’s rifle.
“You have your ID right?”
Puppy patted his jacket pocket.
“And the passes?”
“Yes, Annette,” he said impatiently, ducking beneath a bent light pole.
“Can I
