Page 31 of Dublin Debacle

Ciara shrugged. “The medical examiner didn’t find any drugs or poisons in his system. There were no wounds or bruises, so they couldn’t definitively say he was murdered. The news reported his death as suicide, assuming he’d jumped off a bridge.

“The Traveller family wasn’t as convinced but didn’t question the ruling until one of our brothers, who was working the night shift at the wharf, disappeared during his shift. He was found in a metal container days later. He’d been beaten to death. He was a good man, working to provide for his family. He left behind a pregnant wife and two small children.”

Emily shook her head. “It’s so senseless.”

“When your father was killed in that automobile accident, our leader started moving families into hiding,” Ciara said.

Emily’s brow creased. “You knew my father?”

“Not personally,” Ciara admitted.

“But you know my brother,” Emily stated.

Ciara nodded.

“He moved out of his apartment,” Emily said. “Do you know where he’s staying?”

Ciara hesitated for a long moment, her gaze meeting Emily’s. Then she nodded. “He’s staying with me.”

Emily’s eyebrows rose.

The young woman gave Emily a weak smile. “We met at the Pick Your Poison Pub a few weeks ago. He was looking for his roots in the Traveller community. I was decompressing from semester exams.” Ciara shrugged. “We talked for hours. He told me about his father, who’d died recently, his older sister, who ran the family business and how much he missed living in the United States.”

“He’d lost his mother and left so many friends he’d grown up with,” Emily said. “I think it was hardest on him. I missed my mother, but I’d moved on from my school friends and was trying to make it on my own.”

Ciara’s lips quirked upward on the corners. “He told me all that and how he wasn’t ready to go to college, though his father and sister had been pushing him in that direction. When your father died, he felt like there was nothing left to keep him at the place he’d never considered home.”

“I wish he would’ve talked to me,” Emily said.

The young woman nodded. “I listened. We spent more and more time together. My people began moving into the shelter little by little under the cover of night. Those who work on the surface are careful to come and go without drawing attention to the secret passages leading to this shelter. Several times a week, supplies are smuggled in.

A commotion at the far end of the basement made all the occupants tense and turn to see what was happening.

Several men entered, carrying cardboard boxes and large canvas bags.

Everyone gathered around as the contents of the boxes and bags were distributed among the inhabitants.

A single booming voice carried across the room. “It gets harder and harder to bring food here and remain undetected. How long are we going to cower in the bowels of Dublin?”

Ciara tilted her head toward the tall, broad-shouldered man setting a box on the floor. “That’s Rory Gallagher, one of the most outspoken members of the community.” Ciara’s lips pressed into a tight line. “He believes violence should be met with violence. Many of the young men and women are leaning toward his ideology.”

“Are we going to allow the bloodthirsty Nationalists to continue picking us off, one by one?” Rory boomed.

A quieter voice answered, “We’ve worked so very hard to blend into other communities, to avoid violence at all costs. Basically, to be invisible. Violence will only draw more attention to us, making us more of a target.”

“It’s too late. The internet is flooded with news of the Travellers’ violence. Anytime a Nationalist is injured or killed, they blame us. They hide behind masks and attack at night like cowards.”

“We can’t add to the violence. It will only make matters worse,” the Travellers’ leader stated.

“Worse than being killed one by one?” Rory said. “Before long, they’ll find this shelter. Then our women and children will be at risk. Eventually, there will be no one left to carry on our culture.”

“We will not respond by promoting more violence,” the man in charge said, lifting his chin. “There are people searching for the truth, to reveal the real culprits behind the attacks both on our people and on the Nationalists. They need time.”

“Well, I’m not willing to stand around and do nothing. And there are others who feel the same way,” Rory announced.

“Don’t do anything that will give the Nationalists more reason to hate us,” the leader said.

“Wake up, Tristan,” Rory said. “We don’t have to do anything. They hate us anyway.” He turned and left the shelter, followed by several young men who’d arrived with him.

---