To Escape From Gravity

Chapter Eighteen

Out of the entire Judell clan, Chasna had always been the chameleon. His younger brothers and sisters consistently had thunderous footsteps, but his would vary, depending on what the situation called for. It was a trait that wasn't lost to the keen eyes of his parents, and they soon focused on turning his knack for secrecy into all the well-rounded skills a useful informant should have.

The bulky man didn't have the penchant for illicit substances like others in his family, but he shared the insatiable desire for wealth. It was another attribute that made him valuable, because he would never be deterred by the vice of the products his family sold. His taste for any violence also propelled him towards the top of the family hierarchy.

A crack echoed through the narrow alley as Chasna's fist connected with the cheekbone of the scrawny man in his grasp.

"You're not giving me much faith here, Rubo. You're usually overflowing with knowledge and now you're claiming you know nothing?" Another crack rings out. "It just doesn't make sense to me."

Spitting out the blood that had quickly pooled in his mouth, the man interjected with a raspy voice, "I promise you, there is nothing to know. No one knows where she went!"

Hoisting the trembling man up with ease, Chasna pushed him into the metal wall lining the alleyway. His dark eyes matched his mother's, and so did the imposing tone he had. "People don't just disappear without a trace, especially a captain who was watching important people." A meaty fist pounded into Rubo's gut, causing more blood to splash onto the ground. "So maybe you want to think a bit harder if you've heard anything helpful."

Rubo completely fulfilled the definition of a low-life, from his crooked, yellow teeth to his bumbling ways. Never staying in any one place for too long, he moved between the ground and sky cities enough to have an accurate pulse on the rumors and rumblings floating around. Chasna had encountered the scummy man enough to know that it only took a bit of roughing him up to get him to divulge his secrets. His hand was cocked back and zeroing in on Rubo's left ribcage when the man feebly raised his hands to stop him.

"Wait! Wait! Something is coming back to me!" his voice was now garbled as his jaw was rapidly swelling.

Chasna spoke through gritted teeth, his fist refusing to lower. "Better hurry and tell me, Rubo. I'm not known for my patience."

"No one saw the attack, but the counselor's kid was let go at Hinckler's garage in Wardor. Sounds like the mercenary took your captain, but allowed the family to drive back to Raschent on their own. The daughter said she never saw a face, only let the captain talk to them through the window. That's the last time it seems the captain was seen," his breath ran out as he finished, a grating wheeze following the ramble.

Chasna's grip loosened as he listened, but never fully put Rubo back on solid ground. His eyes shifted as he sorted through the pile of facts he had just heard. It wasn't much, but there was something there he could go off of.

"Are you sure that's the extent of what you heard?" he leaned in closely, digging thick fingers into the neck of the squirming man.

Rubo nodded as best he could.

"Lucky for you, I believe it," Chasna said as he gracelessly dropped him to the ground. Rubo's feet had barely touched the surface before his legs were churning, sending him like a bullet out of the alleyway. Chasna wasn't slow to follow. Taking a moment to wipe the blood from his hand, he soon was lost in the expanse of the city, deftly making his way to the transit station that would take him down to Wardor.

***

Normar was in the midst of a staring match with a dog, and she hated that it pitifully felt like she was losing. The sense was confirmed every time the wind would whip harshly into the garage window, diverting her eyes briefly. Her gaze would return to her foe within a second, but she knew he hadn't wavered at all.

If she had her way, she would never have set foot in Brisnick's garage again, and especially not find herself opposite the monster they called Harlem. But clearly, her preferred way had been consistently passed over the last two days.

Eight hours prior, she had been perched on a creaky stool in the odd man's kitchen, fielding his questions and tactfully remaining silent when he and the hot-headed woman got into their tangents. The two had just finished a heated exchange when Brisnick admonished the woman for getting him involved. It shifted the air in the room.

"You know I wouldn't have come here unless I absolutely had to, Bris," Reed said quietly. She was pacing the limited floorspace, occasionally throwing him a glance as her mind raced with options.

The older man gave a slow nod at that. "I understand the predicament, but it's now been multiplied."

Reed silently continued her march, and Normar noted that she was subtly chewing her lower lip as she was deep in thought. Something about the nervous action hinted that it would not be a good time to chime in, so she continued to be a wordless observer.

"Perhaps," Brisnick offered, "we should allow the captain to stay in the garage, under Harlem's view, until you and I sort out what to do."

It was impossible for Normar to stay silent at this. "I'm not going anywhere with that awful dog of yours, he's completely unhinged," she exclaimed. If the kitchen hadn't been such close quarters, she would have opted to hit her nearest captor and make a run for it. But as it was, there were three opposers between her and the way they had entered without enough space for her to have desirable odds. There was also the matter of her prized knife being in the possession of the mercenary, who had seized it after the scuffle on the desert road. Normar would be lying if she said the thought of leaving this place without it made her sad. The redhead had also taken the rifle and two throwing blades Normar had tucked in her waistband, so she could confidently say that she was nowhere near having the upper hand.

Having dismounted the stool at Brisnick's suggestion, Normar was still poised in a fighting stance, which was enough of a challenge for Reed to reach for her pistol. A fast hand from Brisnick caught her wrist and stopped the motion. His ability to continually deescalate a situation was impressive. It must have been an attribute refined by the questionable characters he employed.

"I assume that you wish to live, Captain," he stated. It was a puzzling statement, but nonetheless true. Wordlessly, she nodded in agreement.

He released his grip from Reed, his lanky hand running through brown and gray hair before returning to grasp his beloved tea mug. "I also wish you to live, which is why I'm strongly suggesting you return to the garage and patiently wait there with Harlem."

The threat was so interwoven with pleasantries and warm tones that it could've been easy to view him like a caring father, calmly comforting a despondent child. But Normar picked up the underlying message, though she wasn't sure if the warning of danger was regarding himself or the woman seething next to him. Either way, she saw her only option was to comply. Keeping her hands in plain view, she gingerly made her way to the garage. The pain shooting up her leg at every step cried out at the foolishness of returning to the watchful presence of the guard dog.

The following time had dragged on, with the animal never once moving from its post. Three hours passed before Normar dared to even move, until the rag around her lower leg became so red-stained that she had to address it. After she had readjusted the bandage, her staring match with Harlem resumed. She hated the silence, but she more hated the racing thoughts that swirled around the photo of her younger brother. Whatever Laedem had gotten into, Normar positively knew that it spelled danger. And with the way the volatile mercenary had reacted, she couldn't shake the sickening feeling that it was all going to become incredibly messy.