The Jellicle Chronicles - Year Two

Fugitives

“Need to rest,” the large Tom groaned. 

      Sagging against the rough wooden wall, the dark Tom did all he could to stay upright. At his side, the smaller Queen hovered near him. She looked around quickly, furtively, seeking any sign of pursuit. 

      “We cannot stay long,” the Queen replied. Her voice was a melodic, very proper English that identified her as being from, or raised by someone who was from, the West Indies. “You know what will happen to us if they find out, let alone catch up to us.” 

      The Tom gasped and clutched his side. “Darkside. I swear that he enjoyed that.” 

      “Hush,” chided the Queen. “Come on. We have to keep moving.” 

      Although the Queen tugged on him, the larger Tom stayed against the wall. “Go on, girl. Leave me. I’m only slowing you down.” 

      “You know I cannot do that,” she hissed. “We both go or we both stay. I will not leave you, and I do not intend to go back. We made a deal.” 

      “And you lived up to your part,” the Tom panted. 

      “No, I have not,” the Queen replied, looking back up the alley they had just traversed. “I merely escaped with you, and for now we are free.” 

      “Yeah,” the Tom groaned again. “Free. But for how long? You know he’ll send someone after us. When they find us, this little present old Pugsy gave me in the ribs will be just the warmup act.” 

      “Then we cannot allow them to find us,” she said, standing close enough to glare up into his eyes. She stood average to slightly above for a Jellicle, and the Tom still topped her by a couple of inches. “I will not leave you here alone.” 

      The Tom glared back down; pain squinting his eyes and turning his voice raw. “And just where in the nine Basements are we going?” Stung, the Queen turned away. “That’s what I thought. You don’t really know, do you?” 

      “No, I do not!” Her voice had stayed a grit-tooth whisper, but her anger was plain. “But it has to be around here someplace. Mother was very specific about her description of it. The place we are looking for is near the railway tracks. It is a second-hand Yard.” 

      Chuckling harshly, which then brought on a painful coughing attack, the Tom doubled over. The Queen came in and kept him upright, a chore for the slender female. Now more in control and having his weight centered on her, the Queen moved them down the alley. Continuing to gasp alternately in pain and fatigue, the Tom stumbled alongside of her. In the distance, a Pollicle howl split the night air. 

      “Shit,” came the unladylike invective. “Forgive me. They employed a sniffer.” 

      “Yeah,” the Tom grimaced. “Trust the Boss to even manage to get Pollicles to help him out. Small wonder very few leave once they’re employed with him.” 

      “I know of one who did,” the Queen replied, looking quickly around. “He found this place, too, I heard. Even joined them for a while. I do not know what happened after that. Come. Just hold on to me. We have to find someplace safe.” 

      They turned the corner, and saw that the alley between two warehouses ended at a street up ahead. Trying to stay under the larger male’s arm as much as possible, the Queen staggered down the alleyway. As they reached the end, slightly to the left was a chainlink gate, which was closed and locked. A high wooden fence went further down the street to the left and right of the gate. Just over the top of the fence, they could see a stack of automobiles.