Helena had been stroking Annie’s brown fur, but her and the surviving eight wererats moved at once to stop him.
“A person has better things to do than dying. If you go down that hole, you’re not coming out,” Helena stated flatly.
Doyle said, “But we have no idea where she’s going, she’s our only lead,” looking longingly at the hole.
“I think I know where she’s going, but it’s a trip,” Helena said scooping up the chain whip careful not to cut herself on the multiple sharp edges she then bent and helped Annie into her arms.
“Let’s get out of here this place smells of death,” Helena began heading towards what she thought was the way out.
She stopped when they came to Lane’s remains, still carrying Annie she asked, “Can you have your friends cover his body with that cloth?”
She thought for a moment longer, “and take his boots there are fifty dollars in each heel,” she shook her head, the pain in her heart radiated in her eyes at the betrayal and death of her friend.
Doyle said, trying to move her to the exit, “I’ll have coppers down here to tear this place apart. I would be willing to bet a month’s pay this is where the murders occurred,” he had his arms full helping a couple of the wounded wererats towards the exit.
Apocalypse:
Once they returned to the surface, they found the sun had set, emerging in the dead of night, the full moon high in the sky, the woman gone, and the gate to the courtyard wide open.
“How many hours were we in there? Where did the sun go?” Doyle asked.
“I’ve read that in the presence of magic, or Legendary Creatures, a mortal can lose track of time. It’s something about both that messes with our sense of time.”
“I’m not completely convinced that there are such things as magic creatures or witches.”
“Says the man surrounded by a number of wererats.”
Doyle considered the three to four-foot-tall rat creatures surrounding him and refused to answer.
“We need to get three messages out in a hurry. I will bet that Mister Wizard is still working in his shop, if we send one message to him, I’m sure he can get us help where we need it.”
Doyle pulled out his red book and the special fountain pen. “I can write a note, but only The Wizard can read it. What do we need to say?”
“Where are we? We never did find out where we are.”
“Just a moment,” Doyle ran outside the gate then turned and disappeared.
Helena set Annie down on the back end of the wagon. She inspected the horse and buckboard making sure it was ready to travel.
Doyle quickly returned, “Were on the corner of Bush and Stockton an abandoned theatre.”
“Tell Professor Merryall we need the police here. We want to ensure there are no other captives,” Doyle swiftly took notes as Helena dictated. “We also need the police and Sigmund and any help they can muster to meet us at the Suttor Baths. We need to stop the end of the world. Then you sign it.”
Once Doyle took down everything that Helena had said, he tore the page out of the book, folded it in half, and handed it to Helena.
Helena turned and handed it to Annie. “Honey I need you and your friends to take this to 800 Howard Street, it is a workshop I have a friend there. It will be scary, but you must hand deliver this note. Then you and your friends can head home. We must get to the Suttor’s Baths. I think it’s outside of your Mischief’s range.
Annie took the message, nuzzled Helena’s arm in understanding then gathered her friends and headed out the gate.
“We need to borrow this buckboard and travel to Suttor’s Baths,” she said guiding the horse, backing the wagon into the alley.
Doyle swiftly joined, “I only have two questions. Why did you want everyone at Suttor’s Baths and why did I sign the letter? Sister Ping didn’t tell us anything.”
“I believe she told me everything I needed to know. She said she was late for a ceremony. That could be anywhere. However, a few days ago Mister Suttor himself told me he rented out the Baths for different ceremonies, religious, secret, all kinds of rituals. It’s the only lead we have.”
“That’s very weak.”
“Anemic, do you have a better suggestion?”
“Unfortunately, no, and I signed the letter because?”
“If my idea doesn’t pan out, you will get the blame and I won’t,” she smiled at him after speaking.
Doyle’s eyes bulged slightly as he listened to her cunning, cold statement.
She continued, “The real reason is most adults won’t listen to me because I’m too young, too female, too blonde, too something other than a white man. I needed a white man... To sign his name to my idea so people would listen to it,” she hadn’t made the rules to this game, but she was going to learn to master the game, change the rules or even change the game.
“I think I should be afraid right now.”
“You should be.”
The wagon, ready to go, they both jumped into the driver seat. Helena took the reins and with a flick of her wrists struck out on a new life, or the end of the world. She was about to find out which at Suttor’s Baths.
Helena and Doyle had no idea if the quarantine still contained Chinatown and the Barbary Coast. Annie and her posse proved unable to give Helena any information on the Chinese Girl’s School deep in the heart of Chinatown. Helena had no indication if Suttor’s Baths was the correct location. She didn’t know much about gambling, but she had learned about so many new things, now she’d try doubling-down to find Missy.
The streets were quiet, the effects of the quarantine, the previous night’s riot, and the Calvary patrolling the streets still being felt throughout the city. The buckboard careened through the quiet streets the horse
