Page 47 of Warrior

He holds it like a baby, cradling the thing carefully. Which is good, because it’s always wise to have caution around explosives.It’s not armed, though. Not until I pop the tape off—which I do while he holds it—and slide the last plug into the black box.

It blinks to life.

“Shit,” Kade mumbles.

“All it takes is a phone call.” I brighten. “And only I know the number.”

I usher him to the door. “Go forth and deliver.”

“We need to talk about?—”

“About your massive fuck up?” Every fiber in my being goes still and focused. “I told youIwanted to go east. I didn’t want to wave a giant red flag and declare our intentions.”

He glares at me. “I didn’t.”

“You went for a fucking joyride. Get the fuck out of here.”

When he leaves, the hard armor in my expression melts away. Alone, I can return to beingme. Which… doesn’t leave much to be desired, sure. To be normal is to be an oddity.

No one is fucking normal, least of all me.

I trail Kade back the way he came, taking care to step lightly and stick to the shadows. He takes the stairs back into Madness, and I continue on. The hallway ends in the subway tunnels. The actual ones. They go almost everywhere, and it’s my own personal playground.

No one’s brave enough to venture under the streets.

Anyway.

I stroll along the tracks, always considering running my fingers along that infamous third rail. It could still behot, as they say, or… well, since the generators are gone, it could just be my imagination creating the buzz of electricity in the air.

My eyes are well adjusted to the dark, and the route is memorized. I traverse it easily.

Half a mile away, I come upon a man handcuffed to one of the normal rails. There are ties on either side, ensuring he can’t slide like an inchworm down to one of the abandoned platforms.

He comes awake when I bring more sound into my movements. Skittering my toe across a loose collection of pebbles, landing harder with every step. Thud, thud, thud.

I locate the flashlight I left behind and flick it on. It illuminates the man ahead.

He squirms and lifts himself into a sitting position.

There’s an awful lot of blood on him.

Might be due to the missing eye and all.

“Hello, Jeff.” I squat beside him, poking his shoulder.

Poor fella flinches back like I stabbed him.

Might’ve done that, too.

A few stabs never killed anyone.

Much.

“Jeff,” I admonish. The beam of light lands on his face. “Where are your manners?”

“H-Hypnos,” he stutters. “Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone?—”

I scoff. “Sorry, Jeff, you sing like a parrot. It’s a proven fact now. Maybe if you kept your mouth shutsooner… Alas. Much too late. And I still have details to extract from you.”

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