Page 130 of Forget Me Not

Ray nodded and urged her toward the staircase, going first this time as they headed up toward an unknown.

“Stronger downstairs, but it’s here too,” Ray whispered about the smell. “I don’t think it’s attempted repairs.”

Penn snorted. “I’ll show the picture of the damage around tomorrow. See if anyone in construction knows if that is normal in old buildings.”

Make it look like age, they’d said. Ray turned to Penn although she couldn’t see much of his expression. “Burns can be repaired.”

“Ah.” She caught his point immediately. “So you don’t just burn a building to cinders, you ensure it collapses or is beyond repair. Wouldn’t even need as big of a fire. And I had doubts about the structural integrity of this place before this. We need to be out of here.ASAP.”

Ray was up the stairs before Penn could follow. The fifth floor was all open doors. Ray burst through the first one, what had once been a back penthouse apartment. He identified rooms absently, living space, kitchen, bathroom, tracking a heartbeat and the murmur of news radio to the bedroom.

“Fuck! Is this a raid?”

Ray stopped dead in the bedroom doorway.

Despite the missing bedframe or mattress, the room held to its original purpose. A human or human-appearing person was in a sleeping bag, with a blanket around their shoulders, sitting up with their back to a wall, a small, dog-eared, well-read book in their hands. The radio was on the floor next to them, along with a tub of peanut butter and a package of crackers, and a cup that smelled like both coffee and some alcohol, probably whiskey. But not much. Like what Calvin might call a nightcap.

There were lit candles around that Ray frowned to see. The rest of the room was empty of furniture, but several stuffed trash bags in one corner were probably the rest of the human’s belongings. A mildew scent came from the walls. The bags themselves smelled of old sweat soaked into fabric, plastics, bits of food and the various scents that came from human bodies.

“Raid?” Ray belatedly recalled the question just as Penn came up behind him. “No. But we need to get you out. This place isn’t safe.”

“Always say that.” The human didn’t move. They were pale under some smudged dirt. The beard, or several days’ worth of stubble, was dark. The rest of the human’s hair was covered by a knit cap. Fairy knitting, in all the shades of yellow Ray had ever seen. “They always say it’s to protect us,” the human went on. “Then they smash my gear.”

“Understandable that you shouldn’t trust us,” Penn said, more patient than Ray felt like being at the moment. “But we genuinely mean it. We think the owners of this property are about to destroy it—for the insurance.” Penn glanced around the room. “The floors aren’t sound, and it’s possibly about to go up in flames. We need to get out.”

“So get out?” The human still didn’t move. “I’m not hurting anybody.”

Ray took a deep breath, then left the human to Penn so he could focus on what was happening downstairs.

“If you like,” Penn was gentle but Ray could hear steel too, “we can help you carry your stuff—your gear. Unless you don’t trust us to touch it? Ray here is a were, so he could lift it all, if that’s easier. But we need to leave now. Likenow. You can have it all back once we’re outside and on the ground. Promise.”

“They’re moving again,” Ray revealed. “Second floor, checking on something, I think.” He put a finger to his mouth, reminding them both to keep their voices down.

“They don’t come up here,” the human remarked.

Ray focused on him and his eyes must have been bright, because the human raised their head and looked startled. Maybe they’d believe Ray now.

Ray didnotgrowl. “They don’t come up here because they need the most damage on the lower floors. That will take out the top floors for them. What’s your name?”

The human had eyes of muddy brown. “Strider.” They paused after saying it, glancing to them both. “Like fromLord of the Rings?”

Penn looked at Ray, then shrugged.

“Do cops not read?” the human demanded. “It’s one of the bestselling book series of all time.”

“Okay.” Penn was not in the mood. “Up. Let’s go now, while we still can. Look, Strider—is that the hero?” She didn’t wait for the answer. “The people downstairs, they spread around a bunch of smelly chemical shit, right? You know that can’t be good for you.”

“Neither is the shelter,” Strider pointed out, but something must have struck him as true, because he frowned. “Strider was Aragorn’s name when he was a Ranger. That smell is new. So is the fence.”

“It’s why we’re here. To get you out before they do whatever they’re planning.” Penn bent down to extinguish one of the candles with her fingers. “Grab what’s important to you. Anything you can’t carry yourself, give to Ray here. Okay? Let’s go.”

“If you arrest me for trespassing, they won’t let me keep my stuff.” Strider protested, but finally started to get up.

Penn went for another candle. Ray cocked his head as he tracked noises.

“All the more reason to move quickly,” he grunted. “When we get out, head toward Mami’s.”

“Aren’t you cops?” Standing, Strider was above average height for a human, but he didn’t have much weight on him.

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