In trouble

2 weeks later

*Amber*

Once again, I remind myself that Clay is much worse off than I am. At least I don’t need help getting out of bed; my stitches came out long ago, and my wounds have almost healed. Clay still has both eyes covered, and the wound on his side has reopened with the slightest movement.

Compared to Adis, who is long, lean, and muscular, Clay is more compact. He doesn’t have the same physique as Adis and Tjeck; even KC is outgrowing him now that he spends all his time in bed.

“The Shadows, The Eagles, and The Stars,” I summarize, sitting up against the headboard next to Clay. “With Adis, Tjeck, and Kress as the Alphas, and you, Drew, and Thorn as the betas.” I count on my fingers, even though it isn’t necessary.

“And the tattoos?” Clay asks, lying on his back with his hands folded across his chest.

“The pierced S on the right arm for The Shadows.” That one is easy. I’m reminded of it all the time because everyone else in the apartment, except Hope, has it. “An eagle on the left forearm for The Eagles.” I’ve seen Tjeck’s arm, but it took me some time to realize what it was. “Stars on the neck for The Stars.” Adis has the stars as well as the S.

“Those are our allies,” Clay confirms. “They are friends, and if you ever get in trouble, any of them can be expected to help you. Who are your enemies?”

“The Zombies, with Zombie obviously as their Alpha, and The Suns, with Sunny as their Alpha,” I reply instantly. We had gone over this yesterday, and as always, Clay checks if I remember what he told me. “Zombies have a Z tattoo on their left arm, and The Suns have a sun on their right forearm.” I pause before asking, “Why are their gangs named after themselves?”

“Because Zombies have aspirations of grandeur,” Clay explains. “And with Sunny, it’s more him who is named after the gang.”

“Who calls their kid Zombie, by the way?” I say, wrinkling my nose.

“It’s not his given name. Only a few people use their real names here, and it’s an unwritten rule that you never ask people about their real names or their past,” he tells me.

“So you don’t know each other’s past?” I really want to know Adis’s past. “Did you all choose to leave your homes to live here?”

“I came here to stop the sale of drugs; I was an undercover Guardian.” He shifts slightly. “I heard rumors that this was a good place to buy those things. I met Kattie, and now I’m the one dealing those drugs. I got too involved to leave again.”

“Didn’t you like the life you had before?” I ask, confused.

“It was okay, I guess. I just found something else here. Something more.” He makes a motion that looks like a shrug. “There’s a freedom to this place that you don’t find anywhere else. We don’t need to know who the president is, and if we want to color our hair, we can do so without worrying about what others would think.”

*****

Adis Alpha apartment has seven rooms: the living room, four bedrooms, the kitchen, and one bathroom. It takes less than five minutes to walk through it all.

I’ve started to notice some things that annoy me. The worn-out walls, with different kinds of old wallpaper. The living room, with spots of various paint, looks like it has been used to cover up stains on the walls. The furniture is made from old pallets and beer crates. Uncovered light bulbs hang from the ceiling. Weapons are lying around, and it just lacks everything that would make it a home rather than just the headquarters of a gang. I wonder if the other members’ apartments look the same or if they are more homely.

The door that serves as the main entrance isn’t really a door at all. It was once a window leading to a fire escape, and then someone cut it out bigger and put in a door. It’s a good thing we are this far south because no one has sealed around the door, and most of the little windows in it are broken. On a windy day, I imagine the living room will get rather chilly.

This evening, I am home alone with Clay and Hope. I don’t know where the three others are, and I never ask. Hope is sitting on the floor with an old sketchbook and a couple of coloring pencils. That’s her way of relaxing… disappearing into her own world of drawings and fantasy. Sometimes I wish I could follow her.

Clay is on the couch, propped up on pillows to make it somewhat comfortable for him. I’m sitting in the armchair Adis normally uses. I’ve found an old history book. It’s really boring, but I hoped it could spark some kind of memory.

Hope is up even before the door opens, and Clay has clearly heard someone approaching too. Then KC stumbles in the door, and even I can see something is wrong, despite not having heard his footsteps on the fire ladder. The others did, and it shows how in tune they are to their surroundings, even when they seem to be relaxing.

“The guardians got Adis,” KC says, huffing for air. I wonder how far he has run. To me, it would have been more than enough just to run up the stairs, but I can hardly compare my fitness level to KC’s.

“For what?” Clay seems to relax again, and Hope sits down in the other chair. No one really seems worried… no one except me.

“He got busted for dealing,” KC sighs resignedly. “I messed up, and Adis stepped in, taking the fall.”

“Kattie will go down there as soon as she’s back,” Clay says calmly.

“There’s something more.” KC glances at me before turning his attention back to Clay. “Zombie has found out about Amber’s existence.”

Clay straightens up, and I can see he’s trying to figure out how to react to this news.

After waiting for an order that never comes, KC speaks up instead. “I’m taking one of the bikes to look for Kattie.” He grabs the keys from the bowl in the bookcase next to the door. “Hope, make sure no enemies get in here,” he says, tossing a handgun to her. “Even if it means breaking the rules.”

“Just a piece of advice,” Clay says emotionlessly. “Start by looking for Kattie at Tjeck’s place or in his bed.”