AN (s):
GreatKateZonkeyMachine – Incidentally, the town where I live is currently experiencing 30-degree weather and endless rainclouds. This chapter was not difficult to write.
Kahlan Aisling - There's this one cameo (advice column) article on the Script Frenzy website that says when you get stuck, have a new character bang down the door and start shooting everything. That's the basic idea, anyway. See if you can find the scene where I got stuck going one direction and Zonkey turned it around in less than two hundred words. ;)
-N-O-M-A-N-S-L-A-N-D-
CHAPTER – 4
"A Hazy Shade of Winter"
or, Clues Unfound
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Fortunately for them, the children – Reynie especially – knew Stonetown quite well, at least well enough to know which parts were poorer. That meant that in certain areas, four children could wander aimlessly around and stop to rest on a sidewalk, street corner or alleyway and seem inconspicuous. They took to exploring, looking around for clues as to where the adults might have been. As they were passing an alley in the less reputable part of town, Sticky said sadly, "Look at these people."
For they were not alone in their situation. There were several people dozing on the edge of the street, or just sitting looking gloomy. Cigarette smoke was heavy in the air (so much that Constance threw a fit over it), among other smells. Kate could not help giving these people sympathetic glances, while Reynie seemed indifferent and, almost appallingly, unconcerned.
"Look at us," he said. "If we don't find the others, we'll be spending the night sleeping next to a dumpster."
"Well, yes," Sticky replied, "but I'm sure we'll find them soon. And we have money, and food –"
Reynie looked sharply at him. "You might want to be more careful when you talk about that sort of thing," he snapped, and led them off down the street. Constance toddled after him and coughed. Sticky trotted up, not finished with his argument.
"Still," he said. "These people have been out here all their lives!"
Kate stopped and sighed before saying, "You know, Sticky, maybe that's true. Maybe it isn't. But right now we have a problem bigger than theirs. We're all but orphans again, Curtain's searching for us, we have a stolen credit card –"
"It's not stolen, it's Rhonda's."
"In a court of law it's stolen, and if the cops catch us with it things won't look good." Kate narrowed her eyes.
Kate had taken Rhonda's purse from her bedroom, with a credit card and a fair amount of cash. The children figured they could use some of it to pay for the things they would need over the couple of days. At least, they hoped it would only be a couple days.
"Think about it, Sticky," Reynie continued. "To the police, we're kids who've gone missing after our home was burned down. They don't know who did it or where the adults are, and bodies haven't been found...as far as we know." He took a deep breath, already tasting the bitter words he was about to say. "What happened at Mr. Benedict's house was orchestrated by someone on the inside. We know it was Mr. Bane, but the authorities have no reason to believe that. And won't it look suspicious to find four kids, a stolen purse, no visible signs of harm, and to top it off, who didn't talk to the authorities immediately? I don't know about you, but if I was a police officer, that wouldn't look like innocence to me."
For a minute Sticky wanted to say something, and even opened his mouth to say it, but he couldn't argue with Reynie's logic. He had to admit, even though he didn't like it, that he was right. They couldn't claim kinship to Rhonda, and it would look suspicious if they were caught with her purse. And the treacherous Mr. Bane would frame them for his own crimes if they went to the authorities. He grunted "fine" and followed them off.
They were heading for a supermarket, not only to get something to eat but to see if they could locate gloves or something of the sort for Constance. The older three had become more concerned about her recently, because her pajamas and raincoat, while insulated, didn't keep out the cold as well as their own snow coats. As they walked in, Reynie happened to look at a rack of newspapers and noticed a headline that interested him.
"Hold on a minute," he said, and beckoned. Kate and Sticky saw what he was looking at and were immediately interested, and even Constance took a look-but then their shoulders sank. The article was about a fire, but not the one at Mr. Benedict's house.
"'Forest Fire Rampages through Harbor Woods,'" Reynie read aloud. "'Yesterday emergency phone lines received reports of a wildfire in the wooded area against the coast, just off the shore of Nomansan Island. Firefighters arrived at the scene and the fire was extinguished. However, approximately two acres of damage have been reported. The Stonetown Times interviewed fireman Larry Dolmman…' So they run a story about a forest fire, but not about Mr. Benedict's house?"
"The government probably doesn't want it publicized yet," Kate said reasonably. "They always wanted anything to do with us and Mr. Curtain everything kept secret from the public."
"But the forest fire has to do with Mr. Curtain, doesn't it?" said Sticky.
The others looked at him. "How do you figure that?" Kate asked.
He pointed at the newspaper. "The article says that the fire happened in the wooded area near the shore of Nomansan Island. That's the wood where Mr. Benedict, Rhonda and Number Two spied on the Institute through their telescope the year before last."
"You think it might have been the Ten Men?" asked Kate, turning to Reynie, instantly excited at the finding of their first clue. Sticky began to dig through his pocket for loose change.
"It's possible," Reynie mused. "But why would they want to burn those woods?" he asked, mostly speaking to himself. "Unless… No… no, that's stupid, never mind."
Before Kate could ask—though not so much as demand—what he meant by this, Constance rudely interrupted by shouting "Hel-lo! We're stranded in the middle of nowhere here! Who cares about dumb old forest fires?" She coughed.
"Constance is right," said Sticky before Kate had a chance to retort.
"Yeah," Kate grudgingly admitted. "We need clothes and food. How much money do you guys have on you?"
Sticky's pockets were empty, but then he called attention to Rhonda's wallet and credit cards currently in Kate's bucket. "It makes it all the more suspicious," Kate said darkly as she fished them out, "that she just left all her things lying around."
"It doesn't matter," said Reynie. "We know that she can't have gone far, but what about everyone else? We don't have any evidence they're around, or even alive."
The others were slightly taken aback by this ominous statement, coming from Reynie of all people.
They finally found enough money to pay for the newspaper and handed it to the guy behind the counter. He looked completely bored and like he didn't do anything but listen to heavy metal all day and drink all night, so Kate figured he wasn't going to care if he sold a newspaper to a thirteen-year-old. The others were silent while Kate paid for it, and then they walked outside to keep reading.
Sticky flipped through the pages as Constance coughed and Reynie concerned himself with trying to determine the adults' location. No matter how much he racked his brain he couldn't fathom where they might disappear to. Kate was tapping her foot impatiently, but also glancing at Constance in concern.
"Hey," Sticky said. "It's not headline news, but there is something about the fire at Mr. Benedict's in here."
"That quick?" Kate asked, grabbing the newspaper from him. She cursed under her breath as she read. Sticky blanched.
"Is... is something wrong?" he asked.
"Yes, something's wrong," said Kate, glaring at the newspaper like she could set it ablaze. "The police know even less than we do."
"That's bad, right?" Constance asked.
"It's bad," said Reynie.
Constance gulped. "Very bad or just...bad?"
Kate said, "A shade below catastrophic."
"Very bad," the toddler decided. "Um, why?"
"Because," Reynie explained darkly, "if the government is letting news of the fire get out, you can bet that they don't think the Ten Men are involved. That means we're the only possible suspects. Mr. Bane is now their most trusted source of information. He'll frame us for everything. We definitely can't go to the police now."
The Society was quiet as they mulled over this solemn and scary pronouncement. "But..." whispered Constance, "...they're the police. Surely we'd be safe with them..."
"Mr. Benedict's house was the safest place we could have been, and look how that ended up," said Kate. "Not only could the police cause more problems than they'd solve, but the Ten Men could probably still get to us. The best thing for us to do is stay hidden."
"You know, Kate," said Reynie, "we haven't met all the Ten Men, but I'm sure they know what to look for. Is it really a good idea for you to walk around dangling that bucket?"
Kate looked affronted, surprised by his backward accusation. "What else can I do with it? We haven't got anywhere to store it. Don't you think I've thought about this?"
Mostly to break the gnawing silence, Sticky said "Was there anything else in Rhonda's purse?"
"A bunch of junk," answered Kate. "I haven't had time to look through it for something useful."
"Well, we have all the time in the world now," said Reynie dryly.
They sat down with the backs against the side of the store, and Kate pulled out Rhonda's purse. "Theater tickets," she said with a touch of sadness, sifting through its contents. "She was going to use these."
"Anything else?" asked Reynie.
"Not that I… Wait," said Kate. The other three Society members sat up straight at once. "Hold the phone…" She pulled something out of the purse, and it did indeed look like she was holding a phone: it was a small metal device with a numeric keypad and a long antenna sticking out of it. "What's this?"
"It looks kind of like a radio," said Sticky. He took his spectacles off to look at it. "Is it making any sound?"
Kate put the device up to her ear. "No," she said, perplexed.
It was quite a simple contraption, actually—simpler than any phone, radio, or walkie-talkie. It was nothing but numeric keys and antenna. There was a tiny dot on it that looked like it might be a light, turned off. Kate typed in a couple of numbers at random, but nothing happened whatsoever.
"Some broken old gizmo," said Constance dismissively. "Throw it away."
"No!" said Reynie. "We don't know what it is—it may be really important."
"It could be the key to Heaven," said Kate, "and it wouldn't do us any good unless we knew how to use it."
"Maybe we'll figure it out," Sticky said without much hope.
Kate put the device in her bucket and sighed. "We really need to get something to eat," she said. Constance sneezed. "And I think we should get something for Constance."
"I don't need anything," the girl protested, but it lacked her normal luster.
"Yes, you do," Reynie said firmly. "If you don't at least get something warm, and soon, that could develop into something worse."
Kate appraised him with suspicion. He seemed uncharacteristically pessimistic. It must be rough on him, she thought, suddenly having to live like this. Then she looked over the rest of the Society; Reynie was basically fine, but his face was red and his teeth were chattering slightly. Sticky looked even worse for wear, especially since he wasn't properly dressed. In fact, only Kate was wearing enough clothing to keep herself properly warm in this weather. She pulled off her own gloves and handed them to Constance.
I can't believe she didn't do that earlier, Reynie thought, and then he immediately felt angry at himself for thinking something like that. "We all need something warm," he continued.
"The people in that alley have survived," Constance harrumphed. "We can too."
"They've survived, but they're probably used to it," Reynie replied. "We're not, and as long as we have money, I say we use it. We need something warm and that's final."
Kate tried to think of something that would defuse the tension, but couldn't. So she merely turned to Sticky and punched his arm playfully. "Any ideas?" she said with a brave attempt at cheer. "You've got experience in this area."
Sticky turned redder, if that were possible, and looked somewhat nervous. He had always hated to be in the spotlight. Reynie felt a tinge of annoyance at his hesitance, but quickly beat it back. Come on, he thought, You've always come through in a crisis. To Reynie this definitely qualified as a crisis.
"Uh…" was all Sticky could manage.
Constance threw her pudgy fists on the ground in frustration. "Spit it out, George Washington!"
Sticky stammered piteously. Reynie put a reassuring arm around his shoulders.
"Well," he finally said, "in some hotels, they offer free complimentary breakfasts. I used to sneak into those during busy times and eat that. It's not very healthy a lot of the time, but it's food."
Kate nodded curtly. "Interesting idea… Well, you're the only one who would know."
"Excuse me?" Constance said, and coughed again. "I managed to live in a library for years."
Reynie spoke up. "True… If worse comes to worst, I suppose we could take a leaf out of your book. But right now we need food, and after that we need to find someone to stay with. Who do we know? Kate?"
Kate shook her head. "Sorry, Reynie. It was just me, Milligan, and Moocho."
"And where is Moocho?" said Sticky. "He wasn't at the house the day everyone disappeared."
"He's in Spain for the holidays," Kate replied.
There was silence for a while as everyone thought. After five minutes during which no one made any progress, they agreed to turn to the more immediate matter of sustenance. However, Reynie could not stop his mind from constantly wandering anxiously back to their impossible situation (as, he was sure, neither could his friends). This, he thought uneasily, has gone from a crisis to a catastrophe.
::::::::
About an hour later, Reynie, Kate, Sticky and Constance were sitting inside a four-star hotel, pretending to be with one of the many tourist families who came for Massachusetts's historical sites and such things. Sticky had been right; most of the breakfast was unhealthy, but it was warm, and Kate had managed to discern what would keep them full and what wouldn't, with Sticky's help. Reynie had his hands full keeping Constance in line. A harder task than it seemed, that was, and it seemed quite a difficult task.
"So where are we staying tonight?" Reynie asked Sticky, who was downing his sausage with Constance-esque rhythm. He looked up at Reynie as if confused for a moment, then swallowed, took a drink of orange juice, and thought for a minute.
Eventually he said, "Remember that book by E. L. Konigsberg?"
"Which one?" Kate asked. "There's a lot."
"From the Mixed-up Files of Ms. Basil E. Frankweiler," the boy recited. "The one where the kids run away to the Metropolitan Museum of Art."
"Yes," Reynie said.
"I saw it on the shelves," said Constance. "Didn't bother reading it."
"Well, all of the museums in Stonetown aren't as tightly secure as that at all," Sticky began slowly. "And if we pick a lesser one..."
"Wait a minute here," Kate interrupted, putting her glass down on the table for emphasis. "We can't do that. It's a book, Sticky, and it would never work."
"Yeah, and I'm not staying in a stuffy old museum. Haven't you ever heard? The displays come to life at night!" Constance said, not loudly, but not without force.
Reynie sided with Sticky, out of mostly common sense but out of sympathy as well. He really was trying, and his plan for food had worked, hadn't it? "We don't know what's out there, Kate, and unless the Ten Men know how to predict our every move when they don't even know where we are, it's better than staying out in the open where people can find us. And honestly, I doubt the police are going to look there. Children have a reputation for disliking museums."
"But it would be obvious," Kate protested. "I mean, hiding out in a museum while escaping authorities? It's cliché! It's a step up from libraries or boxcars, but it's predictable, and in our situation we have to avoid predictability."
"You don't know that," Sticky said about the predictability factor, but he didn't sound as confident as he should have. Then he said, a bit stronger, "It might take a few modifications, and it'd be risky, but it's better than sleeping in an alleyway every night. Safer, too."
"A library worked for me," said Constance.
"Yes, but people weren't looking for you back then," Kate replied, looking indecisive. "We don't know where we'll be safe and where we won't, and I'm not willing to trust a museum or library on faith."
"Sticky's plan for warm food worked," Reynie said reasonably. "An entire meal that we didn't have to pay for." He felt a bit guilty about that, but survival was survival, and he could apologize later. "Maybe this will work too."
Kate set her jaw and tried not to glare at him. She really was against it, but Reynie didn't know if it was because she really thought it was in their best interest to stay where they were or if it was her inborn instinct for strength. Honestly,he thought, it sounded like she was only trying to prove herself. He couldn't believe that! ...Well, he could, actually, but that she would choose to freeze to death when Sticky knew how they could get shelter? It was risky, that much was true, but not as risky as staying out in the open.
"Fine," the girl said at last. "We'll try it. But at the first sign of trouble—"
"Ahem," Sticky said, crossing his arms and looking rather pleased with himself.
Kate scowled, and amended, "Fine. At the first sign of imminent danger we're getting out of there, no questions asked. Agreed?"
There was consent all around, and Constance celebrated by stealing what was left of Kate's toast.
::::::::
"You picked this one?" Kate exclaimed, looking up at the large building with incredulity. "The Stonetown Museum of Science and Local History?"
"Have you ever been here?" Sticky retorted.
"Don't you have to pay to get in?"
"You do," said Sticky, "but if we say we're here on school business – it's not too late in the year and some schools assign huge projects over the break – we should be able to get a discount, mostly because we're all under the age for it. We just need cash."
Kate and Reynie had walked up to the doors, looking to see just how much they would need. Kate wasn't happy with the outcome. "Rhonda hasn't got enough cash in her purse," she said. "We'd have to use a check or credit card."
"What about an ATM?" Constance said, and coughed.
Sticky seemed astounded at Constance having taken his side, but didn't deny the advantage. "Yes, there's one around the corner," he said. Kate began walking off in the direction Sticky indicated. The other three followed her, their feet crunching through the excess snow that hadn't been plowed yet.
It was an altogether depressing day, really. The sky was just as overcast as the day before, only darker, like there was another storm on the way. Another reason they should be inside. A wind was blowing the darker clouds into the city; it was strong and bitter, and it wasn't pleasant to be standing out in. Rather, it was brutal. Kate didn't seem to notice, though, even though her hands were pale and she'd shoved them into her pockets with no avail. Her bucket clattered along, and Reynie was certain that it felt akin to an icebox inside.
As they turned the corner to the ATM, they were swallowed up in a minor crowd that was coming to the museum for either pleasure or business. The ATM had a line, but when Kate unstrapped her bucket, pulled her hair out, and donned Sticky's glasses, she looked unlike herself enough to pass through the crowd unnoticed, something that would be hard for the original Kate Wetherall to do.
"Why did you pick this one specifically?" Reynie asked Sticky as they waited for Kate's return. Constance was lying down atop the bench-like wall surrounding the museum grounds.
Sticky was huddling on the wall and shivering. "It's the last one someone would think to look in," he said. "Most kids flock there. It's a huge crowd, and admission is expensive. There's actually a lot of security during the day."
Reynie was incredulous. He'd been to museums before, of course, but not this one and not for a long time. "Sticky!" he exclaimed. "Isn't the point not to be seen?"
"Of course," Sticky replied indignantly. "That's why I picked here. In the crowd no one will notice us, but the Ten Men might not know that. I'm hoping they'll think we think being unseen is remaining out of the crowd and going somewhere people can't see us. Out of sight, out of mind, you know?"
"So you're betting our safety on a misconception?"
"Not a misconception, just a matter of opinion, really: what do they think we think? They know that we're smart, but how smart? Psychology, I suppose."
Constance wasn't speaking except to moan in discomfort every so often. Reynie was concerned for her, but there wasn't much he could do at the moment. She hadn't exhibited any symptoms of anything specifically yet, and until she did he had no idea how to help her. He hated being so useless, but this premise was Sticky's area of expertise.
Speaking of Sticky's expertise, Kate was walking back now, huddled inward against the fierce wind. She pulled off the spectacles and gave them back to Sticky, then grabbed her bucket from Reynie and quickly strapped it back on.
"Okay, let's get back to that museum of yours and go inside, pronto," she said. "We need warmth before – get down!"
Her outburst scared the wits out of all three of the others, and they immediately fell on their stomachs as though gunshots were being fired over their heads. Looking up fearfully, Reynie saw the back of a suited man wearing a flapping trench coat and a hat. Judging by what he could see of the hairstyle, it was Sharpe. They needn't have hidden; the Ten Man was walking into the museum. All the same, he was very glad Kate had noticed.
"Alright," Reynie said, standing up. "That was too close. C'mon, this was a bad idea." With that, he dragged Sticky away from the museum, leaving the others wondering if he'd meant a bad idea on his own part or Sticky's. Kate gave his back a perplexed and sad look, before picking Constance up gently and following him.
::::::::
It was almost surreally quiet and still in the small clothing store after the raucous hustle and bustle of the windy streets. The four of them walked over to the winter section and browsed. They couldn't care less what the clothes looked like, they just wanted the warmest possible things that would fit them. Ten minutes later, each of them was carrying a bundle of warm clothes. "Now," said Kate, "We need to decide on where to sleep."
They chose the most secluded little back alley they could find. There was nobody else there to disturb them, and actually, if they used their new coats as blankets, it might make quite a cozy spot to sleep at the end, where a solitary street lamp was casting a circle of light. "It's getting late," said Sticky, noticing that the lamp was on. "Let's set up camp."
"Are you sure we should be here?" said Kate skeptically. "With no one else around? I mean, if the Ten Men find us alone..."
"If the Ten Men find us, we're done for no matter what," said Reynie bleakly. Constance looked up at him fearfully. "At least we've got privacy here."
With their makeshift sleeping bags and in relative warmth, the Mysterious Benedict Society spent an almost enjoyable evening sitting in a circle and talking about lighter things, such as the holiday decorations around Stonetown. Finally, when the cloud cover cleared without precipitation and the dark-blue sky was revealed, Kate's smile disappeared, replaced by a grim businesslike expression. "We really ought to get to sleep now," she said. "After what happened at the museum, we should have a lookout. I'll take first watch." She walked over to sit just outside of the circle of light and peered intently into the blackness.
In the meantime, the boys and Constance were trying to get comfortable using their new clothes. Constance was wearing her rainjacket, while lying on a thick coat and using a sweatshirt purchased by Kate as a blanket. Sticky wrapped himself in three coats. Reynie snuggled into a zipped jacket, as if it were a sleeping bag. It actually wasn't terrible; it had stopped snowing, and…how extraordinary! There were even two stars out in the sky. Usually no stars were visible because of all the city lights.
Sleeping under the stars, he thought with a smile.
::::::::
When he awoke, it was bright and late. He had slept in. Sitting up, he found that he was not the only one – Constance was snoring beside him. He was a little concerned at the sight of her: there were dark circles under her eyes, and her face was the color of ice. She's only four, Reynie thought. Too young to be out here so long.
He also saw that the other two were already up. Kate was sitting a few feet away, hugging her knees – Sticky was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Sticky?" he asked her.
She turned around, and the sight of her face startled Reynie. Her eyes were bloodshot and darker than Constance's, though her complexion was normal. "Oh! You're awake," she said.
Reynie shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. Did I keep everyone waiting?"
Kate shook her head. "Oh, no. You had every right to be exhausted, none of us have slept since the night before the attack."
Again, Reynie felt sheepish and kind of ashamed. He had actually slept some the night of the attack.
"Anyway, Sticky went off to get breakfast," she went on.
"To...get breakfast?"
"Yeah, we didn't want to wake you and Constance." When she said her name, Kate looked at the small toddler, asleep at the foot of the streetlamp. "I'm worried about her," she said to him. "I think she might be getting the flu…."
"I hope not," said Reynie. If Constance had influenza, that meant a huge problem—if they didn't find a way to treat her, she might die.
Speaking of which… "Kate," Reynie began, "Did you stay up all night?"
Kate nodded.
Reynie was mortified. "But why didn't you wake up one of us?" he demanded.
Kate gave him a look. "Honestly, Reynie, think about it. Would you have woken me up if I was finally getting a chance to sleep after forty-eight hours?"
Reynie didn't have to think about it. "No."
"Well, all right then. I was the one who needed sleep least."
Reynie felt another pang of guilt. "Fair enough," he said. "But we're taking it in real shifts tonight."
That was when Sticky returned. He was carrying three steaming bundles wrapped in napkins. "Hi," he said, grinning at Reynie.
"Hey. What are those?"
Sticky grimaced. "'Breakfast burritos,'" he replied. "Perhaps not very healthy, but they're supposed to be filling. I was only able to get three," he added apologetically.
"How did you get them?" asked Kate. "I've got the purse here."
Sticky smiled in a sheepish, almost impish way.
Kate grinned. "You didn't."
"I did," he said.
Reynie didn't see what was good about this. Stealing wasn't something they ought to make a habit out of. He let this one slide, however, even though it was utterly avoidable, probably because he was famished. They split the first two burritos as best they could between the three of them, and left the third for Constance. Most likely she wouldn't eat it all, but it didn't seem right to leave a sick four-year-old half a burrito for her breakfast.
When Constance finally woke up, she blinked at them a little, sat up and said, "Is that for me?" without so much as a "good morning". Her voice sounded extremely congested.
Reynie was proven wrong; Constance ate every last bite. The others' stomachs grumbled loudly. She was less than half of their size, and yet she had gotten more than any of them. An unwanted and ugly feeling that had been festering in them now directed itself at Constance: resentment.
::::::::
The next two days were spent rather idly. The clouds had gathered again, hanging over the city, a promise of foul weather. They got another newspaper, but found nothing worth noting in it. Sure, there were some interesting articles, but nothing important. An oil spill here, a racist policeman there, a miracle surgery here, a bungee-jumping fourteen-year-old there. They had four more cheap meals (two per day), bought with a few dollars from the ATM. They wanted to use the credit card sparingly.
Despite their fevered efforts, they found no reason to believe that their missing guardians were on the same planet, let alone in the same city. One time, Reynie found Constance grumbling rhyming phrases to herself about "missing in action" and "angry transaction." For his own part, Reynie had begun to retreat more and more into his own thoughts, which were increasingly bitter.
In the beginning, they'd thought they would sleuth around the city for a day or two, solving puzzles and finding clues and putting professional invesigators to shame. The finding of the first newspaper renewed this idea. They were the Mysterious Benedict Society; obviously, they could easily find what police and federal agents could not, even hidden and hunted, on the street, without resources. What a fantasy! Reynie was beginning to see what children they really were.
His stony silence was beginning to affect the others. Kate continued to smile and say cheerful words, but her happiness was artificial; her eyes showed how worn and frustrated she was. Sticky was polishing his spectacles so much that the lenses were always smeared.
Sticky, of course, had more to concern himself with than the matter of his vanished parents. Now that the four of them had to take care of themselves, it was he – who had the most experience living on the streets – they depended on to provide the majority of food and good shelter. Not to mention that the Society often found themselves consulting Sticky's advice as they tried fruitlessly to come up with a plan of action.
Kate, meanwhile, was the most tired of them all, and yet also the most alert at the same time. She glared suspiciously at every passing businessman, with her hand on her bucket ready for a fight. Her home and family had been taken away from her once again by Mr. Curtain and his cronies, and she was itching to make them feel a little of her pain. She was mainly responsible for keeping them hidden and protected – she was like their bodyguard.
With Sticky leading and Kate wrangling, Reynie felt more useless and ashamed than ever. He had had more sleep than any of them, but he had slept the latest (not counting Constance, who was sick and four years old). His talents were of no value in a scenario like this. All the riddle-solving in the world could not paint the road to the missing adults, or make platters of food appear in front of the children. He had never felt this useless. He had never felt such bitter, almost jealous admiration of his friends.
To be frank, he felt like a wimp compared to them.
::::::::
The third night was the worst. The camping-esque feel had evaporated, replaced by a powerful longing in all of them to be sleeping under a roof, in their warm beds. Sticky had insisted on taking the first shift, though Reynie had a feeling that Kate was keeping an eye open anyway.
They were sleeping in the same place, the secluded alley with no light except for a lonely streetlight at the end, which they slept under. The lookout would sit at the edge of the light cast by this lamp and peer into the unlit darkness that swallowed the way down the alley, into the part of the city that was alive. Alive with lights and people, it could be seen at the end of the narrow lane, separated from them by the night. They had no wish to stay there, however, since it was no warmer there and they were much less likely to attract unwanted attention where they were right now.
Reynie had sickened dreams that night. He lay awake for a couple of hours, tossing and turning with a crick in his neck and an ache in his back – I deserve it, he thought mercilessly – before falling into an uneasy sleep. He did not remember these dreams upon awakening, which interrupted sleep often that night. After waking up yet again, this time from a dream in which he could just see Miss Perumal at the end of a long hallway, but could not get to her, he saw Kate stand up and walk over to Sticky, whose head was drooping.
She murmured something to him, and he trudged over to lie down next to Reynie. Within a minute, he was snoring. In the meantime, Kate assumed the position of lookout. That wouldn't do.
Reynie decided that there was no point in trying to sleep. So, with his bones protesting eloquently, he stood up and walked over to sit next to Kate. She did not look at him or speak to him.
"Hey," he said in a low voice. "You really need sleep. Go on, I'll keep watch."
Kate hesitated, but finally said, "No thanks, I'm fine. Really. You go back to bed."
Reynie put an arm around her. "You know," he said, "even the Great Kate Weather Machine needs rest."
She looked at him.
"You'll be no use to us tomorrow if you're dead on your feet. How would you like to fight a Ten Man like that?"
Kate didn't answer right away. At last she said, "You're sure you'll be okay?"
He nodded. "Go get some sleep."
So she stood up and walked back to lie down under the lamp. Reynie watched her for a while, hugging himself, and then turned back to stare down the dark, cold street.
::::::::
Kahlan: By the way, the hotel thing was my {GKZM: brilliant} idea.
Zonkey: In the spirit of MBS, we're going to play a game of riddles. Starting now and continuing to the end of Nomansland, every chapter will end with a clue that reveals the title of the upcoming chapter. These riddles will increase in difficulty as chapter numbers go up. That is, the clue for the upcoming chapter will be the easiest and the one for the final chapter will be the hardest. So here's your first and easiest clue!
3PIH O+ 3J3HMON