Backs Against the Wall

“Joss, you don’t have to change how you look,” Ryan says, sounding tired.

“Yes, I do,” I tell him, pulling my t-shirt up over my head.

I don’t have anything on underneath but a thin tank top and a sports bra, but it’ll have to do. My education on sexy comes from 80’s movies but I somehow doubt fluffing my hair and wearing neon spandex is what I need to blend in these days.

“You need to eat more,” Trent says, pointing at my side. “I can see your ribs.”

I snatch my coat back from him, wincing as pain shoots up my arm.

“If I had more to eat, I’d eat it. Back off me.”

“You’re not taking good care of your girl, Ry.”

“I would if she’d let me,” Ryan mutters.

He’s staring down at me as well. Mostly at my chest.

“Alright,” I growl at both of them, “eyes forward and hands off. Let’s go get this over with.”

We move under an overpass, crumbling and decrepit. I hurry as I always do going under them, worried that they’ll choose that moment to dissolve down on top of me. To trap me as easy pickings for… well, just about anyone, living or undead. I shiver at the thought of all the enemies I have out there, a fair portion of which are in this building looming in front of me. It’s stupid to be here.

The building is two stories of good condition that screams someone lives there. The exterior paint is badly chipped and faded, but broken windows are carefully boarded up and the surrounding areas are barricaded and secured. It’s a long building stretching out onto a pier over the water of the Pudget Sound. I’ve fished there before. Not by this building, obviously, but hidden farther north away from The Hive and the Colonies nearby. I can see them now. The stadiums are just south of us, also glowing faintly in the night sky. All of them so shamelessly broadcasting where they are and what they have. Hardly a care in the world.

I hate all of them.

The inside of the building is dark as far as I can see, but Ryan doesn’t hesitate to walk right up to the door and knock sharply. It doesn’t take long for a small square in the door to pop open.

“What?” a voice asks gruffly.

Ryan puts his face to the hole. “I’m here to see the Boss. He asked for me.”

“You’re not here to fight?”

“No. Just business.”

“That’s a shame. Slow night.”

“Not my problem,” Ryan says, his tone dead.

I hear a muffled chuckle as the square slams shut. Bolts are unlatched and eventually the door swings open. There are lights on inside but not much. The entire entryway is cast in black shadows, including the bouncer at the door, and I hesitate as all of my survival instincts scream at me to run the other way. Nature and numbers. They don’t lie.

Ryan steps inside, not bothering to look back to see if Trent and I are following him. Trent nudges me subtly with his arm, falling in step behind me as I stumble forward. I keep moving, my muscles jerky with the tremors ru

We come into a large open area with high ceilings and exposed beams. The remnants of a huge fish tank sits on the opposite side of the room. It’s emptied of water but looks like it’s filled with something else. Shoes maybe? It’s too dark to tell and I’m too freaked to wander over and look. I hang close to Trent, of all people.

I am knee deep in Neverland now. There are so, so, so many Lost Boys. They’re milling around the lobby, swarming everywhere. No one close, but they’re on the peripheral. Walking on the catwalks above us, sitting around what was once a reception desk to the left and a lot of them are coming and going behind the fish tank. Back there must either be where the fights or the girls are.

The people, they don’t bother me so much. I got pretty used to it at the Colony, though I never learned to like it. What’s bugging me more than anything is the darkness and the lights. It’s too dark to see well, to know who is who and what their life status is. But the light a

“Ryan,” a high pitched voice sings out.

We all turn to see a girl about my age walking down the stairs from the catwalks. She’s wearing next to nothing. Tiny little shorts and a tinier tank top. Her long blond hair looks pretty clean, making me wonder if The Hive has hot showers. I’m pretty sure they don’t get their soap from Crenshaw.

“Elise,” he says, his voice no warmer than it was for the bouncer.

“I thought that was you. I missed you the last couple times you were here.”

“I wasn’t here to socialize.”

“What about tonight?” she purrs, walking right up to him and pressing her hand against his stomach. “Do you have time to be social tonight?”

I go to take a step toward them, but Trent stealthily grabs my hand. Thank goodness it’s my good hand, because he crushes it in his. When I glare up at him, trying to pull it out of his grasp, he shakes his head minutely. I freeze, waiting.

Ryan steps back from the girl. She steps forward, regaining the ground and giggling up at him.

“Not a good time, El. I’m here to see the Boss tonight.”

“What about after? You might want a midnight snack.”

He jerks his head toward Trent and I. “I packed a lunch.”

I want to punch him, but I remind myself that being a trick was my idea.

Elise smiles happily. “Ryan, finally taking a taste! It’s about time.” She glances over at me, frowning. “She’s scrawny, though. Where’d she come from?”

“I don’t know. She’s on loan from the Pikes.”

The girl scrunches her nose in disgust at me. “Geez, Ryan, are you that hard up? There are girls here that would give it up to you for free and you wouldn’t have to check them for fleas.”

“Just crabs,” I say sharply.

“What did you say?” she shrieks.

“I said you’re a dock walker,” I enunciate slowly. Loudly. “No doubt you’re crawling with crabs.”

“You’re dead,” she breathes, taking several steps toward me.

I’m itching for her to come closer. Just a little bit closer. Even with Trent destroying my good hand and my other arm on the mend, I could beat this chick into the ground. She won’t remember her own name when I’m done with her.

“You’re just mad because she’s right, Elise,” a voice flows down from the rafters, a soft southern drawl making her bitter words sound sweet.

We all look up to see a woman with long dark hair making her way toward the stairs. She’s beautifully pale and dressed almost the same way I am, only her bra, if she had one on, would be working a lot harder than mine.

“Now get away from Ry before I remove you myself.”

Elise backs away, glaring.

The dark haired woman stops at the bottom of the stairs, staring expectantly at Elise.

“Disappear.”

I’m disappointed when she does.

“Thanks, Freedom,” Ryan says, walking up to the woman to give her a hug.

It doesn’t bother me the way Elise’s hands on him did. My veins don’t run hot, my hands itching for a fight. For a knife.

“No problem,” Freedom tells him warmly. “Your brother would never want to see you around a girl like Elise and neither do I. But what are you doing here? You’re not fighting tonight are you?”

“No, I got called in to see the Boss.”

Freedom looks at him long and hard. “That’s never good.”

Ryan shrugs. It looks stiff. “I think he just wants to talk about the fights I was in recently. I’m not signing on with him. Don’t worry.”

“Anytime anyone goes in to see the Boss, I always worry. Be careful, alright?”