Inkling

8.6 What No One Else Did

7:30 P.M.

Adam was laying on his back, staring at a sky that was crowding itself with more clouds every seconds. These were not kinds clouds which blocked out the sun on a sweltering day, nor were they clouds which left a trail of rain in their wake. These were storm clouds. These were clouds which brought slamming thunder and spasming lightning in the summer. But this was not summer and those were not going to be such storm clouds. These clouds would bring snow, and not the kind small children played in. They would bring the kind of snow which swallowed small children up and stopped and entire city.

Someone had told him, once, that bad things came in threes. Well. Here was number four.

There was his mother. Whom he had seen for the first time in fourteen years, in her casket. That was number one. Then there was Lincoln, who was mad at him and worried about him and missing. Number two. Unexpectedly, Daisy Valera was number three, with her pointy, expensive shoes and the welt on his forehead. Number four was the storm clouds that would bury them all in snow, when the weather had been so mild and nice and sunny only that morning. White was the color of death.

Daisy had seen the blood on his trousers. She had seen him and she had been afraid. Things were supposed to go differently this time and yet, he had killed a man and was inciting fear in the hearts of the innocent. He may as well return to the Pinks, with his newfound ability to not care about what he did to others. Rage. The Pinkertons thrived on rage and Adam had lots of it.

Mrs. Jefferson would disagree. A small voice in the back of his mind said. Adam touched the scarf at his neck. She'd wrapped a sandwich in it for the train, when he left Whitechapel. She believed in an Adam Wink that was not full of rage or hate. She also believed in a smart, intuitive Adam, the Adam who could hear a boot crunch on glass and act on instinct in the same moment. Which is to say: someone was coming and Adam suddenly found himself leaping forward to hide beneath the window.

Someone intelligent would look through the window, they would look down and they would see Adam. But this was not an intelligent person, this was a person who saw a broken window and shouted to his cohort about the broken window.

"Quiet!" The cohort hissed. Adam dared not breathe, but he did allow himself a smile. Because the loud mouth was leaning out the window, looking down the alley and all Adam need do was reach up and grab his collar. Which he did, and he pulled the man straight through the empty window frame and onto the ground. An alarmed cry was all that made it out of his dumb lips before Adam kicked him in the face. Then there was nothing. Nothing but the other man, who was not going to be quite as lucky.

He came looking for the other intruder, he walked up to the window and saw his man laying on the ground outside and that is when Adam pounced. His hands grabbed either side of his bald head, his forehead slammed the man to the ground. Adam had a knife in his hand, and was pinning the man to the ground before he even knew he had fallen.

"I have some questions for you." Adam whispered.