Chapter 6
Jack's POV
"Jesus Jack, what the Hell happened?" Edward growled.
Dawn was just about to break as I limped across the threshold of my family's ancestral home and collapsed into a plush red armchair.
"Are you talking about my leg or my neck?" I groaned.
I poured myself three fingers of whisky from the bottle that was sitting on the nearby end table and took a long draught of the amber liquid. I rarely drank and the alcohol made my head spin, but it certainly would help dull the pain until Edward could fetch me the Med-X.
"You look like you were mauled by a Yao Guai." Edward replied.
"Well, you'd be half right. A Deathclaw hatchling near the Slog mistook my leg for a scratching post while I was picking some glowing mushrooms and bloodleaf to replenish some of our routine medical supplies back at Parsons. I patched myself up as best I could at the Slog but time was of the essence."
"Why not just go back to Parsons and patch yourself up in your lab?" Edward asked. Although the ghoul wasn't a scientist, he wasn't dumb and his second question came quickly on the heels of his first. "Wait…where's Nate? What happened?"
I shook my head. I didn't quite understand it either but the puncture wounds from his savage grip still burned beneath the white gauze bandages I wore.
"The thrall is getting worse it seems." I replied. "Even after I … you know …" I cleared away the embarrassed lump that had suddenly formed in my throat, "I thought it would be okay. He seemed normal but then something switched in his head. We were cataloguing blood samples and suddenly his sire was ordering him to kill me. I — I had to defend myself."
"What did you do?"
I shuddered and a sob caught in my throat which I pushed down with more whisky. "Jesus Edward — I — I shot him in the throat! He immediately let go of me and I locked him in the lab. I didn't know what else to do!"
"Is he alive?" Edward's usual rough voice was uncharacteristically soft.
"I don't know." I admitted weakly. "I just don't know."
Edward sighed, "Well what's done is done. You're dead on your feet Jack. C'mon, let's get you fixed up and get you into bed. I'll leave right away and head back to Parsons to see what I can do."
I wanted to protest but the whisky was having its intended effect. My eyelids felt heavy and I leaned against Edward as he helped me to my feet.
The portrait of my father and my late mother leered down disapprovingly at me. My mother was far more sympathetic of my relationship with Edward, but my sexuality had always been a source of contention between my Father and I. Father wanted to fire Edward from our service and have him jailed for being a sodomite when he heard that Emogene had caught us together in a rather compromising position, but my Mother refused. It's not because she supported the relationship, but because Edward was a damn good assistant and was loyal to the our family. He stuck by us when he learned the truth about my Father's serum, then again when our family came under fire for being suspected communists (which was as ridiculous as it was false), and then again when the world ended and humanity destroyed itself.
Edward helped me hobble up the staircase. Each hop sent a burning fire through the veins in my legs and thighs. It was very possible that the Deathclaw had infected me with a disease when it scratched me.
"I need you to do a blood draw first." I said. Thanks to the whisky, I had to concentrate twice as hard to formulate a coherent sentence.
"What for?"
We had made it to the second floor landing and I swayed against Edward whose rough, strong hands caught me so I didn't fall backward. "What for Jack?" He repeated again.
I shook my head and tried to clear away the sleep that was quickly encroaching. "For science Edward. I might … I might be infected with something."
"You're definitely infected." He replied feeling my forehead with the back of his mottled hand. "You're burning up."
"Well then I need to study it." I half-whined. "Just put some of my blood in a vial and" —
— "No dammit. Enough okay? Between you and Nate, it's a wonder I even have a job with how you two like to use your bodies as part of the science experiments. Now just sit here and let me patch you up. No more science talk, not tonight okay?"
I did was I was told, mostly because I was too exhausted and buzzed to do much else, and rested my head against the back of the chair.
Edward handed me two multi-colored pills and a canister of water. I swallowed both without prompting and finished the water in several gulps.
"Take off your pants." He commanded.
"You could buy me dinner first." I grinned. Yep, the alcohol had certainly loosened my tongue.
Edward chuckled and then smirked. I knew he was suppressing a more inappropriate comment.
Nevertheless, I obeyed. I sucked in air and suppressed a pained whimper as the black synthetic fabric from my pants peeled away from the fresh wounds. I climbed onto the medical table while trying to suppress the embarrassment and slight arousal I felt at being in my underwear, on my belly, in this kind of compromising position. It was purely medical, I kept telling myself, but that didn't stop my face from flushing red.
Edward let out a low whistle upon seeing the damage but set to work right away.
"Why didn't you use any stimpaks at the Slog?" Edward chastised.
"I did." I gritted out as he sanitized the three long, deep gouge marks that ran across the back of my thighs and calves. "But the … the serum negates other healing agents and makes them less effective. Lucifer's balls that hurts!"
"Stop being a baby Jack. You don't squirm this much when you're poking your arm with needles." Edward huffed.
"A needle poke and a Deathclaw mauling are two entirely different things!" I protested.
"You weren't mauled you drama queen." He rebuked. "If you were mauled I'd be finding your internal organs strewn across that gully outside of Parsons."
My stomach lurched at the thought and I cradled my head into my hands, "Okay okay. Let's change the subject."
Edward grunted in response but I couldn't see his face to tell if it was in approval or irritation.
After he disinfected the wounds and cleaned the area, he said "Well none of these look like they need stitches which is good, but you probably do have some sort of infection. I suggest going off the serum for a bit while the antibiotics do what they need to do. I bought some food from Bunker Hill which will keep for a week or two. Unless you need me, I'll take my leave now and head back to Parsons and see what's happened to Nate."
"I — I'm sorry."
"For what?"
I rotated my torso so I could look back at Edward. My glasses were beginning to mist a little and I wiped at the burgeoning tears. My father's taunting voice to stop being such a "damn pussy" echoed in my head.
"Nate. I — I didn't have a choice." I said. "Right?"
Edward sighed. "No you didn't Jack. We knew what he was and what that meant…what that would mean if something were to happen."
"I've never killed anyone before!" I interjected. My heart seized up from the guilt and fear that I had finally succumb to the wasteland's brutality.
Edward cupped the side of my face and wiped away at another tear that had fallen. "Nate's a tough one. He survived the shit that monster put him through. He survived the fallout from the bombs while yours truly was coughing his lungs up in the bathroom downstairs. He'll survive this."
He cleared his throat and for a moment I saw the mask of stoicism fall away. Edward looked doubtful.
"Edward?" I murmured.
He shook his head, cleared his throat once more, and helped me off the table. He handed me a fresh pair of pants and took my desecrated pair.
"I'm gonna go burn these in the furnace in the basement, then I'm gonna head out. Behave, okay?"
"Let me know when you get to Parsons. Use the old HAM radio in the administrator's office, and give me the full report about …" The rest of the sentence died in my throat.
"I will." Edward promised. He approached me and kissed me once on the lips. His blue eyes were now rimmed with yellow and red as his body succumbed to the ravages of radiation, but they still held the same appeal to me as they did nearly 250 years ago.
I pulled him in once more and kissed him again. The spicy scent of pipe tobacco wafted up and reminded me of the night that Edward and I first kissed.
He pulled away and patted me once on the cheek. "I got a couple people stopping by here with Emogene. I hired them to find her and bring her home. There's caps in the safe downstairs as payment. 200 is a fair price. Don't let them dicker you for a higher fee."
I nodded and then just like that, Edward was gone and I was left alone in my father's laboratory.
Nora's POV
"Those Cabots aren't normal. You gotta believe me!" Brother Thomas whined as Nick kept his gun trained at his back while we walked along the Charles River.
Our first plan, to bring this charlatan to Diamond City's lockup, was contingent on having Emogene come back with us as proof that we did the job. Now without Emogene, we were left in the lurch.
"Do you suppose Deegan will believe us?" I whispered to Nick.
"God I hope so." He replied. "Otherwise this job was a complete waste of time."
"I wouldn't say a complete waste." I smirked, "I did get watch you get your ass kicked by a sixty year old woman."
Nick scowled and rubbed his jaw. "If Arturo asks how this happened, make up some yarn about me saving you from a rampaging Yao Guai or —"
"You know Arturo's not gonna believe that." I interjected. "I could say you got kicked in the head by a brahmin."
"Fine." Nick grumbled, clearly annoyed.
"Hey. I was just kidding." I replied softly. "She would've kicked my ass too."
He shook his head, "I ain't sore about that, doll. I'm just … confused. How did she do that."
"I told you! That woman isn't human!" Brother Thomas called back only to be shoved forward by Nick.
"Do I need to gag you like you did to that so-called inhuman woman?" Nick snapped.
Brother Thomas hung his head and resumed his slow trudge forward in silence.
"If she isn't human, then what is she?" I asked Nick.
"I dunno." He murmured. "I just dunno."
As we walked, the ancient but immaculate facade of the old Cabot House came into view. Construction barricades blocked the alleyway and one large plywood sign had the words: "PRIVATE PROPERTY. KEEP OUT" spray painted on it in black.
A sentry bot idled across the courtyard and a Mister Gutsy patrolled while whistling a jaunty, patriotic tune.
Back in my day, the Boston Historical Society had used the Old Cabot House as a museum of oddities and curiosities. Most of the stuff in the museum was clearly bullshit, but some of the research presented, especially regarding extraterrestrial life forms seemed possible. Of course, I never told anyone that I bought into that, but there it was. Thanks to the compelling evidence shown in these exhibits, I'm not ashamed to say that I believe in aliens.
Nick pressed the silver intercom buzzer near the ornate entry door and waited.
"H-hello?" A voice responded. This voice sounded nothing like Edward Deegan's typical ghoulish growl so I assumed this must've been Emogene's brother that she spoke not-so-fondly about.
"Hello?" I answered. "We're here because Edward Deegan hired us to find Emogene Cabot."
"Oh yes, yes. I was expecting you. Come in."
The door buzzed and I opened it. I entered while Brother Thomas and Nick trailed in behind me. For being over 200 years old, the interior of the mansion looked nearly as clean and put together as it did from when I last visited … in 2075.
We walked down the hallway and entered the clean living room. The glass exhibits and plaques had long been removed, but the portraits of the original Cabots hung over the grand staircase no worse for wear.
Brother Thomas whistled low in appreciation and I smirked. I wondered how the other Pillars of the Community folks would react to being in a place as lavish as this.
"Hello?" I called out.
A figure came out to the second floor landing and looked down at us. The resemblance between him and the portrait of the original founder was uncanny. His face held the same look of stern, paternal contempt when idle and sported the same dark features as his predecessor.
"You must be Nora." The man replied.
"Sorry? Do I know you?" I asked.
He shook his head and descended the stairs. He took his time and seemed to favor his left side as though he was healing from an injury.
"Forgive me." He replied, "I'm Jack Cabot. Edward just told me you were coming. And where is Emogene?"
I exhaled. Here we go, I thought.
"She refused to come back." I replied. "We tried and came just short of kidnapping before she punched my partner in the face. But we did bring back her …" What did I call the urchin behind me? Emogene's lover? Her captor?
"This is the man she was last seen with." Nick finished for me. "He had Emogene locked up in a room, hogtied, and gagged."
Jack frowned and then scrutinized Brother Thomas with a withering gaze.
"Is this true?" He asked the man.
Brother Thomas looked like he was staring in the face of evil itself. His skin looked slightly yellow and his lower lip quivered. Then his eyes rolled in the back of his head and he fell over backward knocking into the plush red sofa before collapsing onto the floor with a pained groan.
Jack walked over to the man's inert form and felt for a pulse and then pulled a stethoscope out of his pocket and put it to the man's chest.
He gestured to Nick and nodded at the man's feet. "Help me get him into my lab. It's just back through those doors."
Nick obeyed and grabbed the man's feet while Jack hoisted the man beneath his shoulders. Jack was petite and stocky — I was taller than he was — but he lifted the man up like he was a rag doll. I saw Nick's eyebrow cock up in interest but he said nothing.
Both men hauled Brother Thomas through the double doors and into clean and well-organized laboratory and put him on a hospital gurney.
Jack set to work straight away and brought the IV hanger over and began to run an IV into the man's arm.
"What's wrong with him?" I asked.
Jack frowned as he sterilized a needle and tied a tourniquet to Brother Thomas's other arm. "He's … uh … it looks like he's pretty dehydrated and malnourished. Some fluids should help. I'm also going to do a quick blood draw to see if he could be sick with something else, an infection perhaps or chem use."
Something in Jack's tone rang false to me but I couldn't put my finger on what it was. He operated efficiently and adhered to more sanitary practices than your typical wasteland doctor. He swabbed the man's arm with alcohol and donned rubber gloves before drawing blood from the man's arm. He worked as though he had years of medical training, but from where? Something seemed off.
"So … is Emogene your sister?" Nick asked.
"Sadly, yes." Jack replied. "I'm sorry that she assaulted you, officer. Emogene has always been hard to handle. As they say, you can't choose your family."
"No you can't." Nick agreed. "Say, those are some pretty remarkable portraits in the living room."
"Yes, they're the house's first inhabitants. This old mansion has been in my family dating back to the mid 1800s."
Jack unscrewed the vial that was attached to the syringe and stuck it in a test tube holder. He then placed the last dregs of blood from the syringe onto a microscope slide, slid it beneath a microscope, and peered through the lens.
"Hmm…well I'm sad to say that this man is also fighting off an infection. His white blood cells are far too high. I'll watch over him tonight and then he and I will have a little talk about what he did to Emogene."
Jack stood up and stripped off his rubber gloves. His black rimmed glasses glinted slightly beneath the fluorescents. He seemed cordial enough but his eyes held a guardedness about them. Just like his assistant, I sensed there was something Jack was hiding and I couldn't help but wonder how much of Brother Thomas's ramblings were closer to the truth than we thought.
The man withdrew a large tin and passed it to me. "Here's the payment for finding Emogene. I hope this is sufficient. I usually have Edward handle the finances."
The rattle of bottle caps and the tin's hefty weight told me it was more than the 100 caps that Edward quoted us. Was he paying us off? I wondered.
"If you'll excuse me," Jack said as he gestured back towards the living room, "I'm going to look over our patient here before calling it a night. It was nice to meet you both."
He shook Nick's hand without flinching and then shook mine as well. As I took his thin, dry hand in mine, I saw a flash of jealousy and sadness pass across his face. I had seen that look on a handful of women before — and it usually was directed at me when I went out with Nate — but on Jack's face, I felt the weight and sincerity behind it.
We were both all but pushed out the door and into the chilly evening. The door shut and then locked behind us. Nick looked at me.
"How 'bout we head on back to the Agency and fill Ellie in on the details before turning in. This has turned into the longest day of my life, and this is coming from a guy who doesn't sleep."
I nodded and followed Nick back into the alleyways, but my mind wasn't on Ellie or the Agency. As we walked back to Diamond City, I couldn't reconcile the fact that a sixty year old woman had a younger brother who looked thirty years her junior. Nor could I shake the eerie suspicion that the portraits of the family founders that hung in the living room were more closely related to Jack than he let on.
Still, the most painful observation I had made that night had nothing to do with Jack or Emogene, but rather, how Jack reminded me so much of Nate.
The wasteland was full of SOS broadcasts made by Pre-War people who were caught unaware by the bombs. Nick and I had resolved a couple of them in our travels together, and each time we did so, I half hoped and half feared I'd hear Nate's voice on the other end.
So when I set foot in the Cabot House after 200 years, I felt Nate's presence there. Something in my gut told me that Nate had been there before. It didn't make sense of course; Nate would've never willingly gone into a museum dedicated to the curious and the supernatural unless I begged him to go with me.
In the short time that Nick and I had worked together again, he taught me to never ignore my instincts or my intuition. But how could I when it was telling me my husband, who I presumed was dead for 200 years, was alive and was somehow connected to the Cabot House?
Nate's POV
"Doctor Pendleton, I need the autopsy report on that John Doe from Saturday's shootout. Your wife needs it for her prosecution case against Joe Spenellie's gang." Mrs. Abledeen, the receptionist, said over the phone. "You know, your wife really shouldn't be working so hard. You've got a baby coming any day now."
I shook my head at Mrs. Abledeen's well meaning but unnecessary advice, "You go ahead and tell my wife that yourself. And tell her that I'll be up in a few minutes."
"Of course Doctor."
I hung up the phone and removed the plastic medical apron and hung it up on a hook in the small dressing area.
"Miles can you take care of Ms. Banderhousen here. Mike from Anderson and Son's funeral home will pick her up at three. My wife is waiting upstairs for me."
"Of course." He replied. "You tell Nora I say hi."
"Will do." I chuckled.
Miles was an endearing if not overly eager young man fresh out of medical school. He could've gone on to any of Boston's hospitals to do his residency, but instead, he chose to work in the morgue as my apprentice. He was still a bit green, but what he lacked in experience he made up for in dedication and loyalty.
I washed my hands and then finger combed my hair into some semblance of order knowing full well Nora would fuss over it like usual. I checked out my reflection in the small hand mirror that was hanging above the sink. Aside for the deepening bags under my eyes on account of the long hours at my job, I figured I looked decent enough to meet my wife for a quick lunch.
I grabbed the manilla folder with the autopsy report from the file cabinet in the records room and then made my way down the narrow hallway towards the elevator.
Several nurses, medical students, and a couple cops got on and off the elevator as it ascended to the ground floor, but I didn't engage them in conversation. Too often the conversations would skew political and then those conversations would turn to fights. I already spent a good two years fighting in a war; I didn't need to spend my free time engaged in another while waiting for the elevator.
"Ground floor." The cool operator's voice announced. I walked out with a couple of weary-looking doctors as a flood of people pushed past us to get in.
Nora sat in the waiting room reading a copy of Love & Life with an incredulous expression while holding her gravid stomach with her left hand.
Only last week did she finally cave to wearing maternity pants, and she still hadn't entertained the idea of going on maternity leave. I was tired of pushing the issue as I understood all too well how anxious she was about leaving her cases with that incompetent junior attorney, but I prayed that she'd eventually cave. It was either that or having Nora go into labor while she was at court.
As I approached her, Nora's eyes flitted up to mine and I smiled.
"Hi hon."
She struggled to her feet and winced but masked the discomfort with her winning smile. "Hey babe. How's it going?"
She kissed me on the cheek, but as she pulled away, I pulled her in and kissed her full on the mouth.
"Nate!" She scolded and slapped my shoulder. "We're in public."
I grinned, "And you're pregnant and we're married. People are gonna catch on as to how you got in this condition even if I didn't kiss you."
"People are gonna talk." She warned.
"Stop the presses! Call the Boston Bugle. I just saw Dr. Pendleton kissing his pregnant wife in public. Oh, think of the children!" I played the sarcasm on thick until Nora's grin matched my own.
She sighed and ran her fingers through my hair. A delighted shiver went down my spine and I felt my brain float away for a moment.
"I'm not worried about a scandal." She whispered in my ear. "I'm worried that if I don't leave here with you now, I'll take you on this very floor and that would be the scandal. I'm pregnant and I'm horny. My hormones are driving me nuts, so kissing me once and letting me go back to work stewing in that arousal is beyond cruel."
"Should we skip lunch then?" I whispered. I prayed to God that she'd say yes.
"No." She countered. "Because in addition to being constantly horny, I'm also hungry as Hell. You sure you can't take off early? Maybe I just need some more convincing at home as to why I should start my maternity leave."
"C'mon Mrs. Pendleton. Neither of us are fit to be in public I think." I helped her put her jacket on and then pulled my own wool overcoat on. I thanked God that the coattails were long enough to hide my arousal.
As we stepped outside and into the cold Boston winter, I held my wife's hand tight in my own relishing it its softness and warmth. Then the scene faded and I heard an unintelligible voice yelling at me and shaking me awake.
Edward's POV
"Dammit Nate. C'mon. Wake up." I urged.
I found Nate curled up in a fetal position against one of Jack's laboratory tables. The linoleum was tinted a dark reddish-black from the dried blood and there was so much of it. I pressed my head to Nate's chest and then cursed at my foolishness. A vampire wouldn't have a heartbeat. Worryingly, his chest wasn't moving either which meant he wasn't breathing and his skin was ashen pale. Well…paler than normal.
I gently lifted one of his eyelids and saw that his brown eyes, not his vampiric white-blue, were rolled back in his head.
"Shit." I cursed. I lifted Nate's literally lifeless body onto the laboratory table and ripped open the ruined shirt to search for other injuries. I saw nothing aside for the obvious half-healed gunshot wound in his neck which he had expertly bandaged. Too bad the bandages were now as red as his grey button-down.
I opened the duffle bag that I brought from the Cabot House and grabbed a blood bag from the top of the pile. I ripped off the tube from the top and began squeezing the torn bag slowly into his open mouth.
Blood pooled around his teeth, gums, and tongue, and I figured he would accidentally choke if he did gain consciousness with a mouthful of blood, so I pulled him forward and sat behind him on the table.
"C'mon dammit." I growled.
I gently massaged the flesh at the base of his jaw and above the gunshot wound hoping I could help the blood get into his system, but the blood I gave him sloshed out of his mouth and hit the stainless steel table with a splash.
"Nate. C'mon." I pleaded. "Tell me what you need. Help me save you."
Just then, Nate's torso convulsed and his eyes jolted open and were now a startling white-blue. His pupils had morphed into cat-like slits and his fangs slid down just far enough for me to see their tips as they poked into his bottom lip.
"E-e-edw…"
"Shhhh. Don't waste your energy. Do you need more blood? Just shake or nod your head."
Nate nodded and his eyes closed again. I fed him some more blood from the blood bag until half of it had been consumed and more color was brought back to his face.
"No more." He wheezed.
"You still look like you need a helluva lot more." I remarked.
He shook his head. His voice was weak and throaty. "I — It wont help. I — I need to f-f-feed."
"Look I have an entire duffle bag full of blood here. Feed to your heart's content but —"
His hand grasped my forearm and I hissed as his claws dug into my radiation-scarred skin. Faint rivulets of blood slid down my mottled flesh and I jerked away.
"A life f—for a life." He murmured.
"What?"
"I ha-have to feed off a live person." He replied.
"Okay. Just let me go get one of Maria's team. I'm sure there's a freak or two in their midst who likes their men a little on the bite-y side." I was making a joke hoping that some levity would help the situation seem less tense, but I don't think it helped.
"I will kill them." He whispered. "I wont be able to stop."
"I'll stop you before you go too far." I insisted.
Nate shook his head and I saw the pain clearly written across his face. In our decade together, I saw how the weight of his past accidents and sins weighed on him. When he thought nobody else was looking, Nate sat in his jail cell or worked with Jack while the entire weight of the world sat on his shoulders.
"Who should I bring to you?" I asked seriously.
"No one." He gasped.
"Then you'll die!"
He nodded twice and his head sank into the crook of my elbow as his eyes shut once again.
I shook him — which considering he was dealing with a neck injury wasn't the smartest decision on my part — and he hissed from the pain.
"I'm not gonna let you die Nate." I said firmly but he didn't respond.
I set him back on the laboratory table and ran out of the lab and slid my ID card into the elevator. The ride to the first floor seemed to take an eternity and by the time the broken speaker announced "zzzz—ound Floor" I pushed through the opening doors and ran outside.
A rad storm was approaching. The yellowing clouds and the far off lightning briefly illuminated the bare trees in the courtyard before throwing everything into a green-yellow darkness.
Maria, the head of security, had her barracks in the south-west part of the property. She ran a tight ship and refused to let any of her guards take chems while they worked for her. Her soldiers were loyal to her and none of them would do what I'd ask without her prior approval.
I knocked twice on the door to the barracks and waited. After five minutes of silence, I knocked again.
"Maria it's Edward. I need to speak with ya." I yelled.
I heard the door unlatch and a disgruntled and dark face peered back at me.
"What the hell d'you want Deegan? I start my shift in three hours. If you need something, go see Bosco, Kenny, or Niko about it."
"I have an odd request and I wanted to clear it with you first." I said. "Jack is doin' an experiment and he needs blood, fresh blood, and he needs the donor to be as radiation free as possible, free of chems, and otherwise healthy. Do you have anyone in mind? Jack'll pay twice the normal rate.
Her eyes narrowed, "What the fuck kinda experiment is Jack doing that he can't use the millions of other blood samples that are in an Old World medical facility?"
I shrugged. "Jack explained it to me but I won't even claim I understood the half of it. All I know is that the donor needs to be healthy and he needs fresh blood."
"And he's willing to pay 5,000 caps for this?" Maria clarified. The skepticism in her voice intensified.
"You know he's good for it." I said. "Have I ever shorted you on a payment before?"
She chewed her lip. "Kick 1,000 of the caps to me and I'll give you two donors. One's a runaway fresh from Finch Farm and the other claims to be from somewhere up near Salem. Neither have marks on their arms to indicate chem use, and they're the strongest recruits I can spare. The rest of my team is far too hardened to be of use, trust me."
"How old are the kids?"
"The Hell if I know. They're runaways. They both told me they were eighteen." She let out a sickening cough and then spat on the ground near my boots. "One of them sounds like he's just old enough to start growing hair on his sack and the other…well…he's as dumb as he is strong so I don't know."
"And I can have them for … say twenty-four hours or so?"
She cackled, "You can have them as long as you want if you give me a cut of the money. They're nothing but a nuisance for me until I can get them trained up right. They're in the barracks next door. The jailbait's name is Phin and the dumb ox's name is Rock."
"Rock?" I repeated.
Maria shrugged. "That's one of the few words he could say when he wandered in here. He does what he's told, he just isn't articulate."
I nodded and moved out of the door frame so Maria could shut it. "I'll pay you your money after Jack gets what he needs."
"I trust ya Deegan. You know where to find me. Just don't mention my finder's fee to the boys, okay? I got kids to think about. They don't…at least as far as I know."
I nodded and walked around the small brick building and knocked on the door. "Phin? Brock? Get out here. I got a job for you."