Page 66 of When Sinners Rise
SHAW
This wasn’t supposed to be my next trip to New York, but hey, fuck it. I can’t think of a single safe route for them to get back to England other than this. And even that might not work out if it goes wrong or these assholes won’t play ball.
I look around the area as I pull through the dusk slowly, searching for the church. It's been a long ass day and I'm about done. Not useful for my mood.
“What are you looking for?” Miri asks.
“Church.”
“Church?”
“Yeah. He’s about my only way of getting you home.”
“Who?”
“At least it’s not another fucking den of-” Naja starts from the back.
“Naja. Stop. Please,” Miri cuts across her. “Who are you trying to find, Shaw?” I look up, scanning the sky level behind the tall buildings, and eventually see a spire. “Shaw?”
Two more corners turned, and a drive past a run of boarded-up apartments, and we finally pull into the smallparking lot by the church. I get out straight away, ready to stretch my legs and try thinking about how to play this. Not that I haven’t been doing that since I came up with the loose plan in my head, but now I’m here, and it’s real and threatening a priest, or, more precisely, Cane, to make this happens sounds fucking dumb. I mean, what a way to screw myself further into the mess I’ve created. Yeah, let’s have both Cortez and Cane hunting my ass down for the foreseeable.
The faint sound of the car door closing behind me somewhere brings me back to the here and now again, and I look back at Miri as she approaches quietly.
“What’s happening? Why are we here?” she asks, folding her arms.
“I’m gonna ask this priest for help.”
“Why would a priest help us? And how? I’ve never heard of a priest that can get fake passports.”
“I doubt he can.”
“So, he knows someone else who can? This Logan guy?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Great. Let’s go then.”
“It’s not as simple as that.”
“Really? Then why did we drive all this way? If you don’t want to see this through, then we’ll make our own way. Find the nearest police station and finally end this. Maybe that’s the best answer.”
“You think I’m gonna risk you going to a bunch of cops with everything you’ve been a part of?” I scoff and turn to look at the church again. “I might have pissed on my family for you, but don’t doubt I’m still looking out for them in certain ways. Besides, it’s too late for that. We’re here now – on Cane ground. There isn’t a cop in this city that doesn’t report to him. You go to one of them, you even try mentioning Cortez and what you’ve been through, and he’ll kill you for them. We’re in the middle ofa deal with him, and two runaway pieces of property won’t mean shit to his ideals.”
She frowns and walks around until she’s in front of my face. “If that’s true, why do you think he’s going to help?”
“Because of this priest.”
“Why?”
“Yeah, that’s not my story to tell unless he forces it. Just let me talk with him, and don’t speak.” I walk on, dismissing her questions, and head up the side of the church towards the entrance. Gravel crunches underfoot, and the faded sound of the city echoes behind us. Other than that, it feels as close to peaceful as I’ve been for however long we’ve been running. A loose rattle of laughter comes out of me at the thought. Peace. Doubt I’m getting much of that for the rest of my life.
Two sets of feet come hurrying towards me as I reach the door, and I look back to find both Miri and Naja hovering a ways behind. Naja’s still scowling at me like I’m the bad guy, and she’s about to try killing me, and Miri, well, she looks as damn pretty as she always does. Light catches her face from one of the church lamps flickering on above her, and with this thought of peace running through my veins and these grounds we’re on, I’m almost thinking of a different life for myself.
Shaking the thought off, I head inside the church and look around. No one’s here that I can see. Just some dim lights on at the far end and a few candles burning up by the altar. Sheer fucking silence. Another wash of that peace comes over me, reminding me of the quiet footsteps following me.
“Hello.” I look to my left, past the pews and the pillars, and watch a priest walk out of a corner I hadn’t noticed. He moves silently, crossing the stone floor like it’s barely there until he’s close by and staring at me with a gentle smile. He looks different than he did in the images I saw of him – taller. Betterlooking, too. There’s no doubting it’s him, though. “What can I do for you?”
“You’re Samuel Cleary?”
