Northwest Indiana, 1924
The sun was high in the sky by the time Logan slid the last beam into the fence post. He wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand as a cool spring breeze blew through the plain, rustling the tall grass. Leaning against the fence post, he smoothed back the hair out from his eyes and observed the ranch. All was quiet as usual. Beside the house, he could make out Jack playing with the dog. He smiled to himself. Working as a ranch hand was honest work and a breath of fresh air. Life hadn't been easy for him but stumbling upon the Densmore's ranch had been the perfect blank slate. The Densmores didn't ask about his past nor where he came from. All they expected was good, honest work and the occasional companionship for their son, Jack.
Life had been good for the last four years.
Logan picked his Stetson hat off the ground and placed it on his head. He had better things to do than laze around. His work as a ranch hand never ended, but he didn't mind. The manual labor was good for him, both mentally and physically. The hard work helped keep the beast inside at bay.
He rolled up the sleeves of his flannel as he made his way over to the boy. Jack flashed a smile once he noticed and ran over to meet him with a hug.
Logan ruffled the boy's dark hair. "Hey kid, how does it feel to be fifteen now?"
"Mr. Logan, I'm fourteen!" Jack corrected.
"Really? You keep growing like you are and you'll be looking sixteen soon enough."
"You think so?"
"Know so, kid."
Jack's smile only widened as he scratched the back of his neck. "Thanks,"
"Of course, is your father inside?" Logan asked.
"Pa's out by the corral. He just bought a new Thoroughbred."
Logan thanked him and headed over to where Jack said William Densmore would be. Sure enough, he found the tall gentleman leaning against the wooden fence watching another ranch hand walk the new horse. Logan, however, wasn't surprised. Mr. Densmore was an impulsive buyer, especially when it came to horses. He stood beside him, lit a cigar, and observed the fine animal. A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth as the horse protested against the ranch hand.
"Would you get that horse under control, Sullivan! You're the one in charge." William said.
"Looks like you bought a handful this time," Logan commented.
"Well, he's named Whiskey for a reason."
He chuckled and gave his cigar a puff. "He's got spirit, that's for sure."
"Which is why he's out here, but apparently I've hired ranch hands who don't know how to handle a horse with a mind of its own."
Logan watched Sullivan struggle some more and shook his head when Whiskey sidestepped out from underneath him. A cloud of dust surrounded the ranch hand as he picked himself off the ground. Placing the cigar in his mouth, Logan hopped the fence and slowly approached the horse. He had always had a strange connection with animals. It was something innate and hardwired within him, a knack that he assumed came with his own animal instincts. Soothing the horse was almost too easy, and it took him no time at all to hoist himself onto its back without difficulty. A smile stretched across William's face as he walked the horse over.
"Now there's a competent ranch hand!" William exclaimed.
Logan eased the horse to a stop beside him. "Mind if I break him in a bit? I still have to get a few things from the store in town like you asked me to."
"Not at all, my boy! As long as you promise not to run him into the ground!"
"I would never." He scoffed as Sullivan opened the corral for him.
The stallion had a surprisingly fast canter. When he reached the town of Lafayette, he hitched the horse to a post outside the general store before stepping inside.
"How're you doing today, Logan?" The clerk asked.
He shrugged as he set the bitters and canned goods he'd gathered onto the counter. "Fine, I guess."
"You run into any of them Cairnes boys lately?"
"No, never heard of them." He replied as he eyed the clerk. "Why do you ask, Milton?"
"Word is they've made themselves at home in the woods around here. They're not the friendliest bunch, and I'm not sayin' you can't take care of yourself, but it's probably best that you keep your guard up."
"I always have my guard up, but thanks for the warning."
Logan ended the following workday mucking stalls and refreshing the water troughs. He lit a cigar once he finished and puffed it to life as his eyes settled on the golden horizon. It was beautiful, but the sound of Mr. and Mrs. Densmore bickering by the shed kept him from fully appreciating the sight. He let out a smoky sigh and focused on the heated conversation.
"Mrs. Matthews told me this morning they'd already raided one ranch! She heard that one of their ranch hands were shot and killed."
"What did I tell you about listening to trifle gossip? There's nothing to be worried about!"
"Can we really afford to dismiss her words as gossip, William? What if it's true? What if something happened to Jack?"
Logan puffed his cigar again and strolled over to the two of them, his curiosity thoroughly piqued.
Their conversation came to a halt as they noticed his presence, and William cleared his throat. "Logan, how are you this evening?"
"Fine, thanks. I couldn't help but overhear that there may be some trouble?"
William smoothed his mustache in exasperation. Logan could tell he didn't want to indulge in Heather's concerns, but it was clear that he was unsure of what to make of it all. The smell of fear was coming off both of them. Logan had no doubt they would want something done about it, and he figured he was best equipped to take on whatever they needed.
William finally heaved a sigh, glanced at Heather, and then turned to him. "You could say that. Apparently, there's been talk that the Cairnes Gang has been causing some trouble."
"I heard. Milton mentioned something about them yesterday."
"I hate to ask this of you, but I need you to search the perimeter. See if there's been any sign that those men have been on our property."
"Mind if I take Whiskey? I need a strong horse in case things go wrong."
"You take whatever you need, and make sure you take your revolver with you."
Logan nodded and turned towards Heather. "Don't you worry, Mrs. Densmore. I'll take care of whatever's out there."
She thanked him, and he stopped by his small cabin to grab his things. As he holstered his revolver, he heard his door open and turned to see Jack. Logan could easily read the concern written all over him, and the smell of his fear was in the air. "Hey, kid."
"Where are you going? You never take your gun with you."
"I'm just going to make sure there's no trouble."
It was clear that Jack was still anxious, his hazel eyes resting on the weapon holstered on his belt.
Logan smiled at the boy and placed his hat on his head. The brim rested just above his brow, clearly too big for him and Logan had to tilt his head up to see his eyes. "Keep this safe for me while I'm gone. I'll be back for it before the moon rises."
Jack nodded, his shoulders relaxing. Logan left to saddle and mount Whiskey and started with walking the perimeter, keeping his eyes open for any fresh tracks. Every once in a while, he'd stop, take a lungful of the crisp air in through his nose, and listen.
The only things he found when he stopped was a chorus of crickets, the scent of fresh growth, and the movement of squirrels jumping from tree to tree.
He was beginning to feel confident there was nothing to fear when his keen blue eyes zeroed in on some fresh tracks. By now Whiskey's ears had gone back, and his front leg was pawing the ground.
Logan's instincts told him the same.
Danger.
A gunshot sounded a second later, followed by several more. Logan spurred his horse and galloped through the forest towards the house. He pushed Whiskey as hard as he could and, as the trees opened up, the house came into view. All seemed fine as he sped towards the house until the far side was blown out, splintering into a thousand pieces and debris.
Logan's eyes flew wide.
Whiskey reared.
He was thrown from the saddle and landed hard on the ground. A groan clawed its way up his throat as he struggled for air. With gritted teeth, he forced himself to get up despite the burning in his lungs.
All was eerily quiet as he ran into the house. He paused briefly to register Mr. and Mrs. Densmore's bodies sprawled on the floor, their chests bloody and riddled with buckshot.
His mind spun with one question.
Where was Jack?
A sob pulled his attention and wasted no time in running to the other side of the house. With his weapon drawn, he stepped through the open door to Jack's room.
The sight he saw before him made him freeze.
He'd set enough dynamite off for a living in his younger years to know the damage it could cause. He also knew its distinct smell and the black singe it left on all it touched.
The damage was there, but there was no smell.
Nothing was scorched.
Yet something had blown out the wall with the same amount of force, and several feet away from the foundation lay several mangled corpses.
His eyes flitted to the source of the sobs and found Jack huddled in the corner. Tears were streaming down his face, and Logan felt a fierce, consuming need to protect the kid. He holstered his revolver, sat beside the boy, and pulled him into his arms. Jack buried his head into his chest as he wept into his flannel shirt.
"Mr. Logan, they—"
Logan gently shushed him, still eyeing the damage and trying to make sense of it. A familiar wave of guilt crashed over him. He should've been there. Should've known better than to leave them. "I know. I'm sorry."
"I-I killed them!"
The confession forced his eyes to snap back to him. "What?"
"I don't know how it happened! I raised my hands to keep them away and, and—"
"Easy, Jack. They—" he cut himself off as he searched for the right words. Everything was suddenly making sense, the pieces of the aftermath clicking together. He had to choose his words wisely. "You were in danger. It was self-defense."
Logan sat with his arms around him until he had calmed down enough to follow instructions. Sadly, he knew from experience what they had to do. They had to leave. If they stayed, people would ask questions and no one else could know about Jack's power.
It was for his own safety.
As he packed necessities into saddle bags and readied Jack's horse, he found himself missing Rose. She had done the same thing for him years ago. She'd been so brave.
So selfless.
And all for what?
He shook his head of the thought as he finished tightening the billet strap of Jack's saddle. Now wasn't the time to wallow in self-pity.
Logan helped the boy onto his horse before mounting his own. They rode at a fast pace for several hours in silence. He knew the boy was in shock, and he wanted to give him space. After a while, Logan looked over and examined Jack. His eyes were blank as they focused on something unseen.
He drew a deep breath in through his nose. "Jack?"
"I couldn't save them."
"Don't go down that dark road, kid. Trust me on this one." Logan warned.
"How do you know?"
He held up his hand and extended his claws to show him. Jack's eyes widened. "You're not the only one with powers. Something very similar happened to me when I was around your age."
"How did you get over the pain?" Jack asked as he studied the bony protrusions.
"You don't. But a good friend once told me that life is pain, but not all of it is. The pain's the price, and the price is worth paying." He replied before sheathing his claws.
"So where are we going?"
"Chicago, it's crowded but it should make it easier to blend in. It'll take us about three days to get there if the riding's good." Logan was hoping to ride forty more miles before stopping. It would be grueling for Jack and his horse, but the more miles they put between them and the ranch the better.
The way Whiskey plodded along was the first thing that told Logan how late it was. He pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at Jack. The boy's head rolled with his horse and his listless eyes were puffy with exhaustion. He looked ready to fall out of his saddle. They needed to stop, but where they were wasn't safe to camp. He scanned the horizon and spotted a house whose windows were illuminated by a warm light from within.
"Just a little further, Jack." He said.
"I'm so tired, Mr. Logan." He groaned.
"I know, come here," he replied as he stopped his horse. Once Jack was beside him, he hoisted him onto his saddle and took hold of his horse's reins. Jack leaned back against him and closed his eyes as they continued their journey. He could feel the boy start to go limp as he drifted off and he wrapped his arm around him.
When they reached the house, Logan gently nudged him awake. By now the soft orange light of dusk was stretching its fingers across the sky and outlining the clouds in gold. They'd traveled all night and day, he observed. Logan felt a twinge of guilt as he dismounted and walked over to the door. The poor kid had lost everything and here he was pushing him to his limit. He tried telling himself it was for the best, but was it true?
Or was he only running because that was what he knew best?
He knocked on the door and rested his hands on his belt as he waited. The door opened a moment later and he was greeted by a slender woman aiming a shotgun. Logan immediately raised his hands in response to show he meant no harm.
"Who are you and what do you want?" She asked. The slight tremor in her voice revealed the gentle nature that lay beneath the confident façade. It took only one whiff of the fear in the air to confirm it.
"I'm sorry if we disturbed you, but we were wondering if you could provide us a place to rest for the night." Logan carefully stepped to the side so she could see Jack. "My son and I have been traveling a long while and this is rough country to be camping out in."
The barrel of the shotgun lowered as she observed Jack with concern. Her dark eyes flitted from Jack to Logan, and to Jack once more before the stiffness in her posture left. "I have a spare room in the back you all could stay in. Dinner's just about done too if you're hungry."
"That's very kind of you," Logan replied with a smile, "I can't thank you enough."
"Sure, what's your name sir?"
"James, my son's name is Jackson." He replied. It was a hassle to keep up with fake names, but it was only for the night and it was better to err on the side of caution. He wasn't sure who would be asking around for them eventually.
"I'm Anna and my daughter's name is Beth. Go ahead and tie up your horses out front and come make yourselves at home."
Logan didn't hesitate to follow her instructions and neither did Jack. When it was time they joined her and her daughter at the table for supper. While he didn't mention it, Logan couldn't help but notice the stench of cigarette smoke and liquor in the house. He glanced up from his meal to discreetly eye Anna. It was too obvious to him that the smell wasn't from her. She looked like she hadn't touched the stuff a day in her life. His blue eyes skirted to the gold ring on her finger. It was a wedding band, but where was her husband? Logan had a feeling he knew the answer but decided to fish for it anyway.
"Will your husband be alright with us staying the night?" He asked.
She stiffened. "How did you know I have a husband?"
"Your ring,"
"Oh, well...he's in town and won't be back for a while, but I'll let him know when he comes home."
Logan held his tongue by taking another bite of his meal. It was none of his business what her husband did. He had no right sticking his nose where it didn't belong, and he certainly needn't give any unsolicited advice. Anna had shown grace and kindness to them, and she deserved his respect.
After dinner, he had Jack wash up and helped him to bed. There was only one, but Logan assured him he'd be just fine on the floor. He could tell Jack wasn't convinced, but the boy was too exhausted to protest.
He lied down on the wooden floorboards and folded his arms behind his head. He was just starting to give into sleep when he heard Jack whisper his name.
"Mr. Logan? Are you awake?"
He opened his eyes and looked up to see the kid peering over the edge of the bed. "Mhmm,"
"Can...can you..."
"Spit it out, boy." He coaxed with a grin.
"Can you sleep with me? I'm scared. I can't stop thinking about yesterday." Jack had trailed off, but Logan's hearing was good enough to catch it, and it made his heart sink.
He nodded and got up to lie down beside the kid who quickly snuggled up to his side. It wasn't long after when he felt Jack's body begin to shake. Concerned, he quickly looked down to check on him and saw that he had started to cry. Logan's brow furrowed as he gently rubbed his back and spoke soothing words into the boy's ear. Jack was clearly traumatized, and understandably so. Logan found himself taken off guard by his own gentleness towards the boy. He'd been so sure that his heart had become calloused with all that he'd endured over the years, yet here he was comforting a child.
But there was a sense of solidarity between them. They had both witnessed horrific things at a young age and were...different. Logan for the longest time had been calling himself an animal as a way to describe whatever it was that made him inhuman. However, seeing Jack's power the other day had proven otherwise. To find others with abilities that weren't animalistic was new to him.
It was nice being reminded that he wasn't alone.
Jack eventually calmed down and exhaustion finally took over and carried them both away into a deep sleep.
It was several hours later when Logan awoke to find his nose and lungs burning. His eyes flew open, and he sat up, his body forcing a coughing fit as he took in his surroundings.
Thick, gray smoke had filled the room. The door was hardly visible except for a bright orange light that glowed between the cracks in the wood. His eyes stung, and the heat was unbearable.
Logan had to get Jack out now.
He quickly woke him and jumped out of bed to reach the window. There was only so much time left before the fire reached them. He slid the narrow window open and helped Jack through. Logan watched as he scrambled backward after hitting the ground. Judging by the surprised look on his face and the flickering of reds and yellows that painted their surroundings, the fire consuming the house was big. Logan glanced behind him and saw flames licking at the door and ceiling.
"Jack get the horses and wait for me away from the house!" He shouted.
A look of terror came over him as he understood Logan's train of thought. "What are you—"
"Dammit kid now's not the time to ask questions! I'll be back!"
"Wait!"
Logan was already heading further into the house. He kicked down the door and threw his hands in front of his face as the sparks and flames flew about him. He swore under his breath as his forearms blistered from the heat, but he pushed onward. Despite the roar of the fire and groaning of timber, he could hear Anna's screams further inside. She was down the hall and past the inferno that was consuming the cabin. He braced himself and faced the flames head-on.
By now his lungs were screaming at him to get fresh air. Each ragged breath felt suffocating, and the smoke was thick enough to keep him from seeing his own hands. It was up to his sense of hearing to find the two ladies.
"Anna?" He called between coughs and through his shirt he'd pulled over his nose.
"We're here! We're over here!"
Logan found them in a room on his right. They were pressed against the corner, Beth unconscious in Anna's arms. He withdrew his over-shirt and handed it to Anna. "Keep this over her nose to keep her from sucking in any more smoke!"
She nodded and quickly did so before he took Beth from Anna's arms.
"Use your gown to cover your face. Follow me."
He was grateful that Beth was both young and small for her age. In one arm, he held the girl and with his other, he helped Anna through the burning house.
When they made it out, Logan carried the girl a safe distance away before gently laying her on the ground. Looking up, he saw Jack standing where he had told him with the reins of both horses in his hand. He looked both scared and mystified. Logan started to walk over to him when his knees buckled without warning.
Jack ran over to him and kneeled down beside him with wide eyes.
Logan waved him off as he coughed and wheezed. "I'll be fine, just give me a second."
It took him just a brief moment to recover and he sat up to assess the damage.
The house would be unsalvageable no doubt. It seemed to him, however, that Anna was only concerned about Beth's safety. He was glad the two had made it out alright, but he found himself wondering what had caused the fire.
His brow furrowed, and he rose to his feet, scanning the perimeter of the cabin. There was a distinct acrid scent in the air, one that he'd only smelled during the Great War. It made his skin crawl as it brought back vivid memories of the horrors he saw. Memories of men writhing on the ground as flames consumed them from the inside out. He ventured closer to the burning house and his eyes found the source of the stench.
He scowled.
Slumped against a burning post was the smoldering remains of a body. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the glimmer of a wedding band and an empty bottle in the grass.
Judging by the evidence, it was clear that the drunken man had been smoking when he had either fallen asleep or passed out. He shook his head, stood, and headed back towards Anna, Beth, and Jack.
"Is everyone all right?" He asked.
"Yes, thanks to you," Anna replied as she handed him his over shirt.
He scratched the back of his neck and took it. "Listen, I hate to be the one to tell you this but your husband—"
"I know. He was a drunk fool." She said. "He wasn't always like that. My husband was a good man."
He sighed and shook his head. "That's the thing about people, darlin'. They change."
She shrugged. "Such is life, everything changes over time. My husband simply decided to turn to the bottle for comfort instead of the people he had in his life. You make sure you don't do the same, Mr. James. You have a lovely boy there, and it ain't my business to know what happened to his mother, but you just make sure that you don't set fire to what the two of you have."
Logan tilted his head at Anna's candidness, finding her words were both encouraging and foreboding. The way the light from the fire cast dancing light and shadows across her face didn't help, but he thanked her anyway and handed her some money before mounting his horse. He hoisted Jack up onto his own saddle to let the kid sleep some more and resumed their journey.
Exhausted was an understatement of how Logan felt. The sun was high in the sky, and Logan was thankful for the cool spring air. There were hardly any clouds in sight, and the road was just as clear. He had encountered a stagecoach and two riders, but not much else in the nine hours he'd been riding. Jack was still sleeping soundly against him, the puffiness around his eyes now gone from getting the rest he needed. He smiled at the sight but froze a second later. The sudden swell of affection that came over him was confusing, and a chilling fear gripped him.
In the past, those who he cared about were either killed by him or because of him. His eyes flicked up to the road again.
Was Jack doomed to a similar fate?
Logan shut his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath despite the paralyzing tightness in his chest.
No, things would be different this time.
They would both make it out of this unscathed.
He exhaled, opened his eyes, and focused on the path in front of them.
Jack awoke within the next hour and stretched. "How far are we now?"
Logan chuckled. "I think we crossed into Illinois an hour ago."
"This is taking forever." He groaned.
"Sure feels like it."
"Can we stop? I've got to go."
Logan sighed but nodded. "Alright but make it quick. Don't get sidetracked in those woods." He warned as he helped lower Jack. The boy nodded and disappeared behind the tree line. Logan shook his head. Not once did he think he'd be in this situation, yet here he was.
Logan heard two clicks behind him and his brow furrowed as he turned in his saddle. He heard the shot before he had turned all the way to see the two men approaching him. The bullet found its mark in his shoulder, sinking deep into the tissue of his muscle. He cried out in pain, the impact of it sending him to the ground. Whiskey reared, and Logan gritted his teeth as he snatched the reins before they could escape his reach. He had to get his gun.
The two bandits rode over, and Logan swore as one dismounted and stepped on his wounded shoulder. Searing hot pain shot through him and forced him to let go of the reins.
The man aimed his rifle in his face and smirked. "Where do you think you're going, cowpoke?"
The other bandit, a slim man with a scraggly appearance, went over to Whiskey and pulled Logan's revolver out of its holster. He eyed it with a low whistle before gesturing it to Logan. "Looking for this?"
"Piss off," he hissed.
"Wonder what else you have in these saddlebags."
"Careful, with two horses I reckon he ain't alone." The one standing on him mused.
"No shit! I weren't born yesterday!"
As the two bickered, Logan eased his free hand towards the hunting knife he kept on his belt. With one swift movement, he unsheathed the weapon and drove it behind his assailant's kneecap. His leg gave out and Logan pulled the man down the rest of the way, plunging the knife into his chest. By now the other had pulled back the hammer of his revolver and aimed it at his head. Logan had pulled the knife out and was ready to throw it when the man was suddenly thrown twenty-five yards.
He pushed the corpse off his chest and sat up. There Jack stood, shaken but determined. Both horses were thoroughly spooked, and Logan rose to his feet to calm them both down. They quieted after a few soft-spoken words, and he looked down at Jack with a smile. "Thanks,"
Jack nodded, clearly still processing what he had accomplished. Logan ruffled his hair and went to retrieve his revolver from the unconscious man. He scowled down at him. With the fresh scent of blood in the air, he could feel his animal instinct craving for more. Logan swallowed, forcing the beast down as he felt Jack's gaze on him. As much as he wanted to put a bullet through the stranger's head for his trouble, the desire was suppressed by the conviction to set a good example. With a muttered curse, he settled for a hardy kick to the man's ribs.
Logan rejoined Jack and mounted his horse before they spurred their horses and rode off. It had been just over an hour when they slowed their horses to a brisk walk. He could feel Jack looking him over, the boy searching for something with an intensity that confused Logan.
He finally made eye contact with him and raised an eyebrow. "You alright, kid?"
"Your shoulder…is it okay?" Jack asked.
"It healed a while ago."
"Did it hurt?"
"Yep,"
Jack pondered the revelation before speaking again. "So, when you went back into that fire..."
"Yeah, that hurt too." He replied.
"You can heal, and you've got claws. Is there anything else I don't know about?"
He laughed. He knew the kid was referring to his powers, but at the same time he had hardly scratched the surface, and it was best if it stayed that way. "The only other thing is that I've got heightened senses."
"Do you think I have other powers too?"
Logan shrugged. "Don't know, kid."
"Are there others like us?"
Logan hesitated and glanced over at him. He wasn't sure if the question was intended to go anywhere. He didn't want to get into the darker side of his past just yet with the boy. Jack had seen enough in the last two days, and Logan didn't want to fill his head with more stories without a happy ending.
"There are, I've met a few." He answered reluctantly.
"Why didn't you stay with them?"
He sighed. "Some things happened that I'm not proud of. It was better for both parties that I didn't stick around."
"Is that when you came to work with us?" Jack asked.
"No, I joined the Canadian army and fought in the Great War. Sometime after that is when I somehow found my way to Indiana and began working for your father."
"Do you really think we'll be okay in Chicago?"
"Of course," he reassured. Although if he was honest, he wasn't sure. He could do almost any kind of job, but earning enough wages was another thing.
They decided to spend the night at a hotel in Cedar Lake. Both of them were exhausted, and the idea of sleeping under a roof and in a bed was too enticing to ignore. They rented a room that, while small, was able to fit two twin beds, a bathroom, and an armchair. The second bed, however, turned out to be unnecessary. Jack was still scared of the possibility of nightmares, and so the two of them shared one twin. It was a tight fit. While the length of the bed wasn't a problem for either of them, Logan had to lay on his side to give Jack enough room. He made sure his back was facing the boy and closed his eyes, hoping that neither of them experienced any nightmares that night.
Logan counted the cash in his hand as Jack silently counted with him. The two of them exchanged a glance before he shoved it into his pocket. Their first stop in Chicago had been a stable to gain some money in exchange for their horses. But without the papers for the horses, Logan had only been able to sell them, as well as their tack, for a little over sixty dollars. It was the highest the man would go, which Logan thought was a scam. Either that, Logan thought, or the man didn't know shit about horses. He looked over at Jack who had been watching him intently. The boy wasn't oblivious to the situation. He was as sharp as a tack, and Logan hadn't tried too hard to hide his irritation.
Not that he was any good at doing that anyway.
"Will it be enough for us?" Jack asked.
"If we're smart with it, yes." He said as they walked.
Logan eventually stopped when he found an apartment building that some locals had mentioned. After asking around some, it was decided that this was the best they could get for a low price. With narrowed eyes, he inspected the building. It looked livable but certainly far from ideal. Living on the Densmore's ranch had spoiled him. He had gotten used to that life, the open air as well as his own place away from strangers, and now it was time to adjust to city life once more.
They ventured inside, and Logan approached the man at the front desk. He had a wiry frame, and the thinning hair on his head was mostly covered by a Panama hat. There seemed to be a permanent frown engraved between his eyebrows as he looked over his glasses at them.
"Can I help you?" His voice sounded tired and irritated as if their very existence drained him.
"I heard you have rooms available at a decent price," Logan said.
He grunted to himself as he rose from his chair. "Follow me, I'll show you what I've got."
The man led them up the steps to the third floor and down the hall. "This is the smallest unit I have available. It has two rooms, a few windows, and comes furnished."
The unit was indeed small, but Logan didn't plan to stick around Chicago long. It would do. "How much?"
"Ten dollars a month, but I'll need a five-dollar deposit as insurance."
"Ten dollars? You can't go any lower?"
The man raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like a fucking charity case to you?"
"I've rented better units in New York that went for six!" Logan countered. He could feel his anger simmering beneath the surface. This man was outright scamming them and robbing them of their money.
"Well, this ain't New York, buddy. Either take it or leave it!"
"Buddy?" He snarled. The man's high rent for the small unit was one thing but demeaning him was another. His arrogance infuriated him. Logan felt a hand on his clenched fist and looked over to see Jack's concerned gaze.
"This might be the best thing we're going to get."
The man scoffed. "The boy's smart. He must take after his mother."
Jack shot the man a look. "And you must take after an ass. I refuse to see my father stoop to your level, but I will not stand for your petty, unmerited insults."
Logan couldn't believe what he had just heard. He took a double take at Jack before eyeing the landlord. They were both pushing their luck, but he couldn't help the sense of pride he felt regarding Jack's boldness.
The man was stunned. Jack was a soft-spoken boy, and not even Logan had really seen this side of him. His response had been unexpected by both of them, except only Logan was amused. It took the landlord a moment to recover and find his words again. "Are you going to take the damn room or not? At this point, you're wasting my time."
"We'll take it," Logan replied.