Thomas nodded, his gaze over Daniel’s shoulder where a man sobbed, “I shouldn’t have given them the pizza. They ate it and got sick. I thought it was the old mushrooms. I hate mushrooms, otherwise I would have eaten it, too.”
Guilt slithered back, coating Daniel’s feeling of relief with a black haze. “Soon as they realize you didn’t kill me for them, they might send someone to finish the job.”
“Not to mention you have to find that lady scientist,” Thomas said, and Daniel’s fear for Trisk redoubled.
Phil sat back down on the edge of Daniel’s cot as if it belonged to him. “I’m telling you, there’s no way out. Only the sick and dead leave.”
“Then maybe I should be dead,” Daniel said in desperation. Maybe I should be dead . . . he thought, his eyebrows rising in hope as he met Thomas’s eyes.
Thomas started at his expression, then catching on, he began to smile as well. “Phil,” he said as he casually reached for his shoes and began to put them on. “Go find Betty Smitgard for me, will you? She worked in the entertainment industry and knows her makeup.”
“Betty?” Phil questioned, and then grinned in understanding. “You got it,” he said, dashing off.
“Don’t worry, Daniel,” Thomas said, dropping a heavy arm across Daniel’s shoulder in a show of shared strength. “We’ll have you sick and out of here tonight for sure.”
28
It was cold, but not enough to bother Kal. He was more uncomfortable with being in the same slacks and shirt he’d put on Saturday morning. Orchid, though, had him worried, the tiny woman shivering under his hat as he stole through Chicago’s curfew-emptied streets looking for a working phone. The sun was nearing the horizon, and the wind funneled through the tall buildings, skating down the river to blast him with a wall of lake-scented air.
“Let’s try this way,” he whispered as he took a right to get out of the wind and perhaps find something for Orchid to eat, and the pixy tugged his hair in agreement. He was reluctant to start knocking on doors, as he’d been dodging patrolling packs of what looked like Weres both in fur and on two feet, bringing in anyone who wasn’t where they were supposed to be. The chance that a random door might lead to an unwanted confrontation was too high.
But there were plenty of closed businesses downtown that showed promise, and he slipped into an alley, appreciating the still air as he crossed to another street.
Feeling small between the buildings, Kal picked his way past the Dumpsters and burn barrels, wanting to get Orchid somewhere she could warm up. It didn’t escape him that his overwhelming concern might be because he’d begun to identify Orchid’s plight with that of his own species. Pixies were failing because of a lack of territory due to their need to hide. The elves were failing because they lacked resources due to a need to hide as well.
The fading light brightened as he reached the end of the alley, and stumbling on the trash, Kal caught his balance against a damp building. He hesitated, looking carefully out onto the seemingly empty street. A traffic light blinked from yellow to red, but there were no cars except those abandoned at the curb. The shops were smaller here, and he felt a hint of hope when he spotted a pharmacy across the street with only one window broken.
“Wait,” Orchid said as he rocked forward to check it out, and he immediately halted.
“What are you doing?” he asked, one hand going to his hat when she pushed it up and took to the air. “Orchid, it’s cold.”
The tiny woman frowned at him, almost no dust slipping from her as she held her arms about herself and shivered. “It’s not that bad,” she said impatiently. “I smell Were.”
Kal pulled back into the shadows, but Orchid was looking behind them, down the alley. Frowning, he pressed back tighter against the rough brick, feeling his back go cold. He held his breath as a silhouette of a man and what looked like an enormous dog hesitated at the far end.
“Shit,” Kal swore, wondering whether they’d been following him or if it was dumb luck.
“Stay here,” Orchid said, and his eyes widened when she shot straight up, her dust almost nonexistent as she vanished back the way they had come.
Immediately Kal’s attention dropped from the sunset-bright clouds to the pair of Weres. They were looking down the alley, and he suddenly felt naked without Orchid beside him. He held his breath when they spun at a loud shatter of glass . . . and then they ran off, following it and leaving him undetected.
He slumped in relief, his mood easing even more when Orchid arrowed down the long alley to him, shivering as she dropped right into his shirt pocket. “Oh, man, that wind is bitter,” she said, voice muffled, and Kal held his hand to his chest, trying to warm her even more.
“Thanks, Orchid,” he said, reluctant now to step out into the open street. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”