I Knew You Were a Weirdo
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XVI - Loss of Losses
Pier 42 on the East River of Manhattan had been locked down by emergency services and federal authorities.
Criminals in handcuffs were being loaded onto black trucks marked with the word FBI.
Criminals who were not in handcuffs were being loaded onto ambulances, those who were found in heaps, battered, bruised, bleeding, with either broken bones or missing teeth.
No one knew who did it.
A couple of NYPD officers were in the process of cutting the chains that were keeping the large doors to a warehouse sealed.
A warehouse bought and paid for by a contractor in the employment of Nana Noodleman.
As soon as the chains were cut and the doors pushed open, Clay Calloway came out, hands up.
"Took you boys long enough."
Calloway wasted no time rushing to the water treatment plant.
"Mr Calloway?" the lead officer said.
The old lion paid no mind.
He had to get the water plant and fast.
Marcus, Johnny, and Nooshy are still out there.
This thought sent a tremor through his soul.
That gunshot. And that scream, Nooshy's most likely.
Clay stopped to catch his breath, not from exhaustion but to calm himself.
Keep it together…keep it together…keep…please…I can't lose anymore people…I can't…
Once he reaches the main doors, Clay forces them open.
He barely took two steps before he saw what was inside.
He stopped dead as he stared in dumb shock and horror.
"Oh no," he said in a low, aghast voice.
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Barry Egerton drove the family truck at breakneck speeds. Stan in the passenger seat, nursing his sore arm, through gritted teeth told his brother incessantly to slow down.
As their destination came into view, the brothers gawked in alarm to see the familiar lights of emergency and police vehicles.
Even federal vehicles belonging to the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
"That's not good," Stan said.
"No, it's not," Barry agreed. "We'll have to find another way in."
"I hope Marcus and Johnny are ok," Stan said, anxiously.
"Me too brother, me too."
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Nooshy laid on the steel floor of the water treatment plant.
Her head ached horribly as though an elephant had tap danced inside her skull.
She pushed herself to her feet, but she stumbled. She managed to catch herself before hitting the floor again.
What…? What happened?
Her thoughts halt like a train that suddenly stops when she feels something warm and wet on her left hand.
She couldn't identify the substance as the floor was too dark in color and there was not much light. She examined her hand and gasped when she saw that it was blood.
She quickly examined herself, adrenaline rush pushing her to full alert and into action. She checked her head, her body for any sign of wound and found none.
She gasped sharply when it came to her.
This is not her blood.
Oh no! Johnny! His dad!
Standing on shaky legs, barely managing to keep from falling again, Nooshy forced herself forward.
Her stride almost collapsed once more when she heard a loud cry, that of a man, not far from where she was.
The voice of a male.
She couldn't make out the words or even the identity of the voice, but it was clearly British.
Is that...Johnny's father? Why is he…? No…
Nooshy's heart began to tear as though cold fingers gripped her heart and tried to rend it in two.
No...no...nonononono!
Nooshy rushed towards the source of the sound.
It became clearer and clearer.
She could now not only hear the cry of despair, but also police radios, medical equipment at work and the footfalls of many people.
Peeking around a water tank, Nooshy could see many emergency personnel on site, locking down the area and acting accordingly.
Police were leading criminals away in handcuffs.
Medical personnel were tending to the wounded.
Nooshy narrowed her eyes, focusing. Some of the crooks were wounded in very peculiar ways.
One was a cougar whose arm was bent at a very odd angle.
Another was a wolf who was missing most of his teeth.
Who did that? The police? The feds?
But then Nooshy heard it again. The cry of despair.
She immediately saw two adult gorillas. One was struggling to get free of the other who was holding him back.
The one struggling was screaming and crying. He appeared to be trying to reach something that was being pushed by several medical personnel.
A gurney carrying what appeared to be…
Nooshy's blood ran ice cold.
It was a body, concealed in a black tarp bag.
Nooshy covered her mouth, hot tears running down her face.
She had wanted to scream, to call out Johnny's name but her mind-shredding dress held her tongue, the dread that he would not answer and the silence would confirm her worst fears.
No...no...no please…not him...not my Johnny…
The gurney hit a pothole in the pavement of the pier and it dropped.
And an arm slipped out of the body bag.
It belonged to a gorilla alright, except it was brawnier, and held gold rings on the forefinger and middle finger.
And it held onto a silver pendant.
Nooshy gasped in horror.
"MARCUS!" Stan cried in heart-wrenching grief and despair, tears rolling down his face, struggling in the grip of his brother, Barry, who too was crying openly.
Nooshy fell to his knees, gripping onto a pipe to keep from falling any further.
Johnny's dad...he's dead? No. No!
Nooshy covered her mouth as quiet sobs came through.
And Johnny...where...where is he?
Her fear now greater than the grief for Johnny's father, Nooshy stood up and continued on in the water plant, looming high and low for any sign of her boyfriend.
"JOHNNY!" she shouted. "JOHNNY, WHERE ARE YOU?!"
As she circled the entire plant in a desperate search for Johnny, her heart sank when she found nothing.
It wasn't until she reached a set of stairs leading to a massive hall filled with foul-smelling mist, which undoubtedly led to an irrigation drain.
Before Nooshy reached the bottom of the steps, she saw a familiar shape in the distance, distorted by the mist.
Clay Calloway, head bowed, emerged from the cloud of mist, carrying a dark bundle in his arms as though it were a newborn baby.
Nooshy wasn't sure what to make of it and what was Clay carrying and why did he look so…
It had occurred to her but she dismissed the possibility before she even considered it.
"Clay?" Nooshy croaked, her voice thick with anxious emotion. "Where's Johnny?"
Clay looked up and down at Nooshy. His eyes were red and raw. He looked down at the bundle in his arms.
Nooshy looked at the bundle as well and her eyes shot open when she recognized it.
It was Johnny's leather jacket.
It was spattered with blood.
In a flash of anger and fear, Nooshy grabbed hold of the jacket.
"Where is he, Clay?!" she demanded in a fit of desperate anguish. "WHERE IS JOHNNY?!"
"Nooshy...Johnny is…"
"NO! Don't say it!"
Hysterical, Nooshy rushed past Clay towards the mist.
"Nooshy! Wait!" Clay called out.
Before he could run after her, Clay stopped to hear multiple sets of footfalls coming towards him.
He had thought it might've been the police but instead, it was the rest of the Moon troupe that had just arrived at the top of the steps.
Nana, Hobbs and the security detail were nowhere in sight.
Sue's nephew Jimmy was gone too, receiving medical attention no doubt.
He'd have to after we had to carve that tracking device out of his arm.
Clay noticed Porsha among them, looking worse for wear but otherwise alive and relatively well.
Clay sighed in relief. Good. At least she's alright.
"Clay?" Rosita said, cheeks lined with tear trails. "What happened? Where's Johnny?"
She was apparently privy to tonight's latest tragedy.
All of them actually.
There was not a dry eye in the room. But they would never have enough tears for what Clay had to tell them.
But most of them could guess the bad news judging by the fact that Clay had Johnny's jacket and how he was holding it.
Miss Crawly burst into tears. Buster held her hand tightly.
Clay decided to say nothing more and simply just show them.
With terrible sadness, he motioned for them to follow.
They entered the platform where the irrigation drain could be seen in the form of a makeshift waterfall.
It was over a kilometer high above the bay.
No one could survive that fall.
Nooshy was already at the edge, looking down.
She was motionless.
Clay approached the edge with her.
Nooshy looked up at him.
"Wh-Where is he?" she asked.
Clay sighed a wounded sigh and he shook his head, a tear rolling down his cheek.
He handed Nooshy the leather jacket, his leather jacket.
"He fell," Clay said softly. "He went after DiMarco...and they both fell."
Nooshy's face was awash with silent horror. Her heart felt like it might stop beating.
The others were no better.
Rosita fell to her knees, hands covering her face as she burst into tears.
Norman was behind her, wrapping his arms around her, tears in his eyes as well.
A weeping Gunter collapsed onto his face, pounding the floor with a cloven hoof hand.
Meena wailed as though she were in exquisite pain.
Alfonso was by her side immediately, holding her close as she wept uncontrollably. He was trying his best not to cry, but he couldn't help as a few tears ran down her face.
Ash fell to her knees, face blank and shell-shocked, her breathing erratic. "Johnny…" she whispered. "...you stupid, stubborn idiot."
Miss Crawly put a hand to her heart and she too collapsed.
"Miss Crawly!" Buster cried as he rushed to her side.
A tearful Nurse Sue went to her immediately, checking her over.
Porsha covered her mouth with both hands. Her attention fell on Nooshy, concern and fear stirring up inside her.
"It can't be…" Nooshy whispered shakily.
She looked down at the falls below.
"No...no." Nooshy gripped the edge so tight her nails scratched the metal surface, grinding the sharp points flat. "No...NO! NO!"
The floodgates opened, her mind and heart rending into pieces as Nooshy let out a soul-tearing wail which echoed in the water plant and the bay.
"JOHNNYYYYY!" She screamed in utter heartbroken despair, tears flowing and flying with abandon.
On her knees, Nooshy buried her face into Johnny's jacket, taking in whatever was left of his scent, releasing every ounce of unimaginable grief and sorrow into it as she wept. Never in her entire life had she cried so hard or so long, not even when her father died, not even when her brother died and her mother got taken away, not even when her grandparents died, not even when she was almost abused at foster care.
Sensing a presence from behind, Nooshy felt someone embrace her from behind, rocking gently back and forth. She knew that scent to be Porsha, the one that she had called her little sister on the night they both got a room together at New Moon Theater.
It did precious little to settle the storm of the horrific despair in her heart.
The worst loss of her life.
The loss among losses.
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Elsewhere…
The black she-leopard walked through the drainage pipe leading deeper and deeper into the old sewer line of Manhattan.
The sound of the subway overhead, causing everything to shake slightly.
She carried in her arms a young man, a gorilla mammalite.
Johnny's long sleeve was removed to compensate as a makeshift bandage to cover up and stifle the bleeding of the considerable puncture wound in his lower abdomen.
The knife, the length of a bayonet, had been carefully discarded, a medical skill she had learned when she was in Special Operations in the Spanish Army.
In fact, it was the same campaign where she mastered her grappling, and a new technique, the same one she used to catch the boy as he was falling when he went over the falls at the irrigation drain.
Carmen Santiago looked down at the unconscious young man, pity in her azure-blue eye, the other shrouded by her jet black hair.
His wound had been patched up but the bleeding has not stopped completely.
He would need medical attention fast.
"Madmoiselle, what is your status?"
Her hands full, Carmen used her tail to press the commlink in her left ear.
"On route Pascal, I have the boy with me. He needs medical attention."
"Compris. The doctor has been notified. He's preparing sick bay as we speak."
Carmen nodded in satisfaction. She quickened her pace, just enough to move faster but not enough to disturb her charge.
She looked down at Johnny's face and smiled warmly. "He looks so much like his father."
Then her heart sank.
And yet so young, to lose not only his mother but his father too. And he's not even twenty years old.
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Morning…
"We interrupt this broadcast to bring you sad news in the city of New York," said a zebra anchorwoman on site at Pier 42. "Marcus Egerton, the father of New Moon Theater performer and cast member of Out of this World, Johnny Egerton, has died. And Johnny Egerton is missing but presumed likely dead as well. Both victims of a savage attack launched by Sean DiMarco and his gang. Out of the entirety of the Moon Theater group, these two persons are the only ones among the casualties in this cowardly assault. Please stand by for further information."
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Red Shore City - Southside
Klaus Kickenklober watched the tragic broadcast from his condo in a private suburban neighborhood on the south side of Red Shore City.
His face was awash with shock and sadness.
Little Johnny is dead?
Klaus let out a gasping breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Oh Johnny…" he said mournfully.
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Red Shore City - Northside
Darius André watched the news from his phone while seated in his Dodge Monaco.
He covered his mouth in horror as he processed what he just heard.
"Johnny's...he's dead?" he whispered in disbelief.
Breathing heavily, Darius dropped the phone on the passenger seat and laid his head on the steering wheel.
And then he began to weep.
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Calatonia - Rural Area
"Mommy?" Little Shiloh said as she saw the news. The little dachshund pup in her one piece pajamas watched from the entryway of the living room where her mother was watching the morning news.
Angie Palmer, a nurse and single mother of three, watched with great sadness and shock as the tragic news of the passing of Marcus Egerton and presumably Johnny, his son, was told.
She turned from her seat on the couch to address her youngest child. "Shiloh, what are you doing up so early?"
"I had a bad dream," Shiloh squeaked. "Johnny got hurt really bad."
Angie almost gasped. She quickly turned off the tv before her daughter could see what was on.
Shiloh shuffled over to the couch and Angie picked her up in her arms.
Angie felt her eyes sting and sobbing built up in her throat but she willed them away. She couldn't cry. Not now. She had to be strong for her children. For her boys and her baby girl.
She heard her phone vibrate and she craned her head to see a text message from her father, Joshua.
Hey baby girl. Saw the news. Coming over.
Angie sighed in sharp relief. Having her kids' grandpa over will help.
"Guess what Shy? Your grandpa is coming over."
Shiloh grinned giddily. "Yay!"
Angie smiled, her daughter's vibrant nature refreshed her, helped calm her soul and heart, which ached for the loss of a friend whom she had only known since last Christmas.
"Mommy? Are you ok?"
Angie heard a new voice enter the room and saw her two sons in the hallway, Malachi and Levi.
Both had loving expressions of concern on their faces.
Angie sniffled. "Sit with me boys. Let's wait for your grandpa to get here."
Malachi and Levi sat next to their mother on both sides, laying their heads on her shoulders.
Angie took a deep breath, trying to relax herself.
Poor Johnny.
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Calatonia - Downtown
Mike MacFarlane, former Moon Theater contestant, sitting on the couch of his apartment, dropped the remote of his television as he processed what he just heard.
"Oh man," the crooning mouse said sadly.
"Honey, is everything ok?" said a voice from inside the kitchen.
Mike rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Nancy...it's about Johnny."
"Johnny? The kid from Moon Theater? What about him?"
"He's been presumed dead."
The sound of something falling and breaking in the kitchen echoed in the room.
"What?!"
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Calatonia - Suburbs
Meena's grandfather Wilson and great-aunt Abigail watched on the television, both with looks of unfathomable sadness.
Meena's mother Lois was crying in her bedroom. The tragic news was just too terrible.
Wilson gripped his walking cane, so hard it almost snapped. He covered his bespectacled eyes.
Abigail scrunched her eyes.
No words could do justice.
They just sat in silence in the dark, quietly mourning the young man who had become a little brother of their Meena.
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New York - Queens
Tony and Bridget Meyers both sat on their couch, both with looks of sadness and mild alarm on their faces.
The Saluki Bridget covered her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. "No," she whispered. "No."
That boy saved my life...and Mikey's.
Her husband pulled her into a hug as she started to cry.
Tony, the black Panther, grimaced mournfully. "I never got to thank him for what he did."
His ears twitched and Tony turned his head a fraction to the right.
"Michael, I know you're hiding the hallway. Come on out."
Bridget lifted her head and quickly dried her eyes. "Lisa, you too young lady."
A teenage Saluki girl in a nightdress walked out of the dark hallway, followed by a little boy, a black Panther in pajama slacks and a plain t-shirt.
"Is Johnny really dead, mommy?" Michael asked meekly.
Bridget closed her eyes sadly.
She did not have the strength to answer.
Instead, she burst into tears.
Her children were by her side in a flash.
The family held each other in a sad embrace.
Tony's phone rang from its place on the coffee table.
From the corner of his eye, Tony saw the caller ID.
Uncle Vito?
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New York City - Sewer Channel
Johnny, sweating profusely, laid in his medical cot as an old bloodhound in medical garb finished wrapping his wounds.
"There." Reaching into a medicinal dispensary, the good doctor pulled out a jet injector with a vial filled with clear liquid.
Craning Johnny's neck, he pressed the injector into Johnny's neck and pulled the trigger.
"Alrighty, he should be good to go in a few days."
The white tiger standing behind him sighed in relief. "You're a genius, have I ever told you, doctor?" he said in a thick Russian accent.
The bloodhound chuckled. "You might've."
Removing his medical gloves, the doctor threw them out. He collected his black medical tote bag and made his way out.
"Call me when he wakes up."
The white tiger watched the doctor go and then looked back at the young gorilla, still sweating and breathing hitched breaths in his bed.
Carmen approached him from his right. She took a handkerchief and gently wiped his feverish brow. "Have you slept?" she asked without taking her eyes off the sickly young man.
"Nyet. Not until he wakes up. I owe that much to his father."
Carmen clenched her eyes. "It wasn't your fault."
"Makes it no easier."
Johnny stirred, whimpering in his fever. "Dad," he croaked.
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Last Night…
Johnny's ears were ringing.
This was a familiar feeling.
The last time his ears rang like that was when DiMarco shot his uncle Stan.
Johnny's heart sank like a stone in an ocean.
Coming to, he realized he was on his back. Looking up, he saw the catwalk, the last place he remembered he was.
He was running after his dad, trying to get him to come back.
His dad had gone after DiMarco, right after the leopard had confessed to dropping the wheelbarrow that killed his wife.
My mum. DiMarco killed my mum.
Pushing himself off the floor, Johnny felt the back of his head.
And then he remembered.
His dad had pushed him off the catwalk.
But why?
Johnny turned over on his back and he lifted his head.
He froze and his eyes grew huge.
There just a few feet away lying in a heap was his father.
Marcus laid on his side, clutching himself, unmoving.
"DAD!" Johnny shouted in terror as he jumped to his feet, his dizziness forgotten.
He fell upon his dad, turning him over, ignoring the warm and wet feeling on his hands.
Marcus' eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open.
"Dad! Dad!" Johnny cried desperately, shaking his father by the shoulders. "Dad! Dad, wake up! Please! Please, wake up!"
Marcus' eyes opened slightly and he coughed.
It was a wet cough.
And to Johnny's alarm and horror, he saw droplets of blood come out of his mouth.
Remembering the wet feeling on his hands, Johnny looked at them and saw they were wet with blood.
Johnny screamed at the sight. He looked down and over his father.
There in the center of his dad's chest was a red stain, a deep, crimson pooling about his dad's button-up and a hole in the upper left region of his chest.
His dad had been shot.
Johnny gasped for air, again and again. His vision began to blur. His muscles tightened until his whole body became numb. His heart beat so fast, he thought it would fail.
It had to be a nightmare. It just had to be. All of his wildest nightmares were daydreams in comparison to this horror among horrors.
His father had been shot and now he was possibly dying.
"Dad!" Johnny cried, his voice breaking, sheer horror gripping his heart tightly, forcing him to action. "Dad, can you hear me?!"
"Jo...John...Johnny…"
Marcus' words came out in choked, wet gasps.
"Just lie still, dad," Johnny said, tears flowing down his cheeks, falling and mixing with the blood soaking in his dad's shirt and his own leather jacket.
Pressing down on the wound with his hands in hopes of stopping the bleeding, Johnny felt the blood seeping through his fingers. The velocity of the flow was great. The bullet had clearly pierced an artery.
Without a doctor, there was no way to save his father.
No! No! I can't lose my dad too!
"John...Johnny...listen…"
"Dad, please! Don't try to talk!"
"I'm so sorry…"
Johnny bared his teeth in agony. "Don't...don't apologize dad...just hold on...please…"
Marcus weakly reached out and took his son by the arms, patting them. "I'm...I'm so proud of you...my son…"
Johnny's heart was shattering in his chest in such a way it was painful.
"Why?!" Johnny shouted in angry despair. "Why did you let him provoke you dad?! Why did you go after him?! How could you be so stupid?!"
Marcus' closed his eyes sadly. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry son...my wife...your mother...I couldn't save her...I let what happened to her happen to her…and then that monster tried to take you away too…" Marcus smiled warmly. "Wouldn't you do the same if it were Nooshy?"
Johnny's face fell.
"Please son...don't make the mistake I made…" Marcus coughed again. "Don't...don't go after DiMarco...don't let him...don't let him win…" Marcus' voice lowered as he could not raise it anymore. "Don't become a cold-blooded thug...be better than I ever was...you...you already are…"
Marcus reached out further and placed both hands on Johnny's wet cheeks, lovingly patting them. "I love you son...I love you so much…"
Johnny scrunched his eyes, causing tears to fall. He sniffled and whimpered. "I love you too dad, but please...don't go...don't leave me...I need you...you're all I got-!"
"Shhh," Marcus said consolingly. "Not true...you have your friends...and her." Marcus' intense blue eyes stared right into Johnny's.
He remembered that they were his darling Ivanka's eyes.
"Your mother's eyes were the most beautiful I have ever seen. She'd wanted you to have it."
Johnny blinked back tears. "Wha-what?"
"Her ring, you still have it?"
Johnny nodded abashed.
Marcus chuckled but then coughed up more blood. "Hold onto it…"
"Dad...I don't...I don't know…"
"You...love her, eh?"
Johnny said nothing. He held his father's right hand to his face as his left hand laid gently down on his chest.
"Do ya?" Marcus asked once more.
"I...I…" Johnny stammered. "Yes...I do...so much."
Marcus beamed at his son. "Then take hold of her Johnny...breathe her in...and never...ever...let her go…"
Marcus' eyes then became unfocused, as though he were seeing something from afar.
"Dad? Dad?!"
Marcus could not hear him. He could not see him. All he could see was the shining, spectral being coming towards him.
It was his wife, Ivanka.
Or was it an open vision, a final gift before he breathed his last?
It didn't matter.
She was here with him again.
A beautiful white she-tiger, slim yet strong, tall yet willowy of frame. That feisty yet kind smile he loved so much. And those gorgeous chestnut eyes, so full of life and passion.
The same eyes as their boy.
She was in her wedding gown, seemingly walking towards Marcus, her smile full of warmth and life.
"You were so beautiful that day," Marcus whispered, tears flowing from his eyes.
Ivanka leaned down and very slowly, she kissed Marcus, her lips warm and soft, taking his breath away.
His final breath.
And he was gone.
Marcus' right hand which Johnny held to his cheek went limp and fell to the floor.
Johnny gaped in abject horror and sorrow. "Dad?" he cried. "Dad...no…no…"
Johnny threw his head back and he screamed.
"NOOOOOOOO!"
Clenching his teeth and his eyes, he took his father in his arms and embraced him tightly.
Johnny broke down as he held his father for dear life. He wailed, releasing all of his despair and grief, holding nothing back.
It wasn't fair. He was alone now. First his mum. Now his dad.
Both gone.
A cruel laugh filled the room.
"Hey orphan."
Orphan.
That's what he was now.
Because of him.
Johnny looked up and saw on the catwalk the bane of his life.
Sean DiMarco, clad in a long black coat, the same cruel, manic smile on his face.
And Johnny's world turned red.
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Present…
Johnny grit his teeth, shaking his head in his fever, unable to rest and yet, he could not awake.
Several dark shapes stood about his medical cot, all in shadow.
"Poor kid," said a gruff male voice.
"Will he live?" the voice of a woman spoke, in a clipped British accent. "Pascal, he will live, yes?"
"Oui," Pascal, the French black goat said. "But he must first emerge from this inner battle from the threshold of death."
"Hmm," said another voice, deeply and gravely. "Carmen, has the Moon troupe arrived at their new safe house?"
"Si. But not so soon. Johnny is believed dead and they are taking it very hard."
"And Nooshy?" said the woman with the British accent, her voice laced with concern.
"She was...nearly catatonic."
There was a soft whimper.
"Shouldn't we call them?" said the gruff male voice. "Let them know he's ok?"
"Only by messenger but not until we relocate and regroup."
"But sir-!"
"We are on the knife's edge. Our orders are total radio silence. We cannot risk giving ourselves away, not when we're so close to nabbing Sorrows and putting him away for good. Don't worry, the Moon troupe will be informed of Mr Egerton's status momentarily."
"Ven?" asked the Russian tiger.
"Tomorrow. Prepare to move out."
00000
It was noon and already the tragic news of what happened at Pier 42 was already made national, not just the of the deaths of Johnny Egerton and his father, but also the audio recorded confession of Khan's hand in the murder of Estelle Crystal, the wife of Jimmy Crystal and the mother of Porsha Crystal.
A murder that was thought to be an accidental death more than ten years ago.
It was a terrible shock to everyone who knew her.
Suki Lane however was not so much shocked as she was sickened.
The revelation that she too was a federal officer was a surprise as well.
Not to Ash though.
However, no one was inclined to care at the moment.
The loss of one of their closest friends was what was on their minds now.
Johnny.
Their Johnny.
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Manhattan
The Moon troupe arrived at the private townhouse in the south end of Manhattan, a townhouse owned and paid for by a contractor in the employ of Nana Noodleman.
The townhouse was only a few blocks away from the police precinct where Captain Thad worked.
The place was relatively safe.
No breakfast was served.
No one had any appetite.
Or any sleep for that matter.
The grief and sorrow lingered on their hearts and minds like a phantom.
00000
Buster laid his head on the desk of the townhouse study, a box of Kleenex not far off and several used tissues laid in heaps.
He had thought of shutting himself up in one of the desk drawers, but being a guest, he thought better of it.
"He was such a good boy, such a good boy," Miss Crawly said, who was sitting in an armchair in the corner, weeping miserably and blowing into a handkerchief.
Buster nodded glumly. More than that, he thought. Much more than that.
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Clay Calloway sat in an armchair, staring out the window overlooking the street outside and the city skyline.
He looked haggard, worn, beaten down, every bit his age.
The fur around his eyes and cheeks were matted down with tears. And his eyes were red as a few solitary drops leaked out and rolled down his already wet cheeks.
Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a small circular silver band, musical designs on it and a blue sapphire stone encrusted in it.
The same ring that Marcus had given to Johnny.
Clay knew this at once. Judging by the make and the clear signs of recent refinement and adjustment, it was clear what Marcus had in mind.
Even if Johnny hadn't rightly planned it, he knew true love when he saw it because he had known it himself, him and his Ruby.
The ring was in Johnny's leather jacket. Clay had found it when he wiped the blood off of it.
And Clay had pocketed it before giving the jacket to Nooshy. If she had found it, if she had thought that Johnny was going to ask her to marry him, it would break her.
She may already be broken.
Gazing sadly at it, Clay sighed a wounded sigh before pocketing the ring again.
She can never know.
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Rosita sat in one of the many bathrooms in the townhouse, knees to her chest and her face buried in them. She wept, almost uncontrollably but managing to restrain herself just enough that her cries weren't heard outside the bathroom.
She had the tap of the bathroom sink on full blast for the purpose of covering up the sound of her sobs.
She and her husband Norman had just succeeded in putting the piglets to sleep.
It wasn't easy, despite how exhausted they were running for their lives and staying up throughout the night due to the danger of being pursued by a ruthless gang.
Johnny's loss hit them hard.
Very hard.
Caspar had cried the loudest.
Even when he was put to bed, Caspar kept asking for Johnny.
Once she was sure her children were sound asleep, Rosita's emotional walls finally fell and she took refuge in the bathroom so that she could release her pent-up grief and sorrow at last.
Oh Johnny...why? Why him? He...he never hurt anyone.
Johnny had become more than just a friend to Rosita, but almost like another son to him.
He was one of the sweetest boys she had ever known.
He was also fiercely polite, the perfect gentleman.
And her children loved and adored him.
What did he do to deserve what had happened to him?
Learning that his mother had been murdered, then his own father dying by the hand of the same man.
And Johnny following suit after.
Why? Why did it have to be Johnny?
Rosita's wails intensified as the reality sunk in deeper, the knowledge of the empty place at New Moon Theater, the vacant spot at the table and the smile they'd never see again.
Nooshy. The poor thing.
If this was how she felt, how much worse must Nooshy be feeling? Losing the young man who had been her first love?
00000
Ash laid in bed, under the covers, her room dark and blinds drawn, eyes and cheeks wet with tears. She had cried until her voice was hoarse, until she had no more strength to cry.
"That...that dumb idiot," she rasped, gripping her pillow tightly as though it were Johnny's face.
Ash scrunched her eyes and clenched her teeth in frustrated grief.
What...what was he thinking?! Johnny, you moron! You unimaginable fool! Your dad died to save you! And now it was for nothing because you ended up dead too!
Ash burst into a fresh wave of tears.
He didn't deserve that...not in a million years.
Not the boy she had come to know as a little brother she never had.
And that she would never have again.
00000
Gunter sat up against a wall in the hallway, crying uncontrollably.
Johnny was his dearest friend.
He had saved his life a while back when they had attended a show in which a hypnotist made Gunter believe he was a secret agent searching for a lethal secret weapon.
That fiasco had been especially embarrassing and dangerous for Gunter.
He might've been seriously hurt if Johnny hadn't pursued him, risking his own safety to do so.
An action that only a true friend would do.
Gunter wept even harder, knowing that he owed his life to Johnny and that he couldn't repay the favor.
Friends keep no debts, Gunter.
Johnny had told him these words after Gunter was snapped out of his hypnotic stupor.
Gunter bowed his head, and sniffled hard.
"I couldn't have asked for a better friend," he said.
It seemed conclusive but a part of Gunter could not accept it.
No body had been recovered yet. The authorities were still dragging the river and have not found an inch of Johnny or DiMarco.
I want to hope he still lives...but...who could survive a fall that high? With all my heart, I wish I could.
00000
Meena sat on a couch, her head bowed and both hands covering her weeping face.
Alfonso had a massive arm around her trembling shoulders. He wiped his eyes, doing his best to keep himself together for his girlfriend's wellbeing.
His heart ached for the loss of the boy he had come to know as a brother.
Meena on the other hand had known Johnny to be her brother far longer than Alfonso did.
Her little brother.
00000
Nana Noodleman stood at her window, sipping an ever-present cup of tea.
She hadn't slept either and she was exhausted.
"You should get some sleep, madam," Hobbs said.
"In time, Hobbs," Nana said, without taking her eyes off the Manhattan skyline. "In time."
Hobbs looked sympathetic. "You did everything you could, madam. Your people may not have been so fortunate if you hadn't helped them the way you did."
"And yet it wasn't enough, we still lost people." Nana sipped her tea and her lip quivered. "That…" She sniffled. "...that hard headed fool. Both of them, stubborn fools. What were they thinking?"
Hobbs sighed. "I'm not sure what I'd do if I learned that my own mother had been murdered and her murderer stood in front of me."
"Hmm," Nana said, albeit with a bitter scowl. "I know the feeling all too well."
Bowing her head, Nana took a seat, a chair which Hobbs aptly provided. She placed a hand to her face and pursed her lip, trying to hold back tears.
Hobbs produced a handkerchief and handed it to his employer.
Nana accepted it gratefully.
"Foolish boy," she muttered as she wiped her wet eyes.
00000
Nooshy laid in her bed, completely covered over.
As soon as she stepped into the townhouse, she ran straight to the first room she could find.
Never spoke a word since they left the pier.
She never put Johnny's leather jacket down.
Even now, she held onto it for dear life.
She still smelled him on it.
It's...it's not fair. He...he was perfect. World...just stop turning.
Her ears twitched when she heard the door open.
"Noosh?"
"Go away Porsha," Nooshy said snappily.
She heard the young wolf sniffle. "Can I get you anything?"
Nooshy scoffed. "Not unless you can bring the dead to life."
Porsha closed her eyes sadly.
Against her better judgment, she approached the bed and shuffled next to Nooshy, still covered over in plush blankets.
"Porsha...I want to be alone…"
Porsha did not reply.
Instead, she wrapped her arms around the considerably smaller girl who barely came up to her waist.
Nooshy feebly fought against her but she was exhausted and terribly sore.
"Let me be your big sister today," Porsha whispered.
Nooshy's thrashings started to slow as she calmed down.
For several long seconds, Nooshy finally settled and nestled her face into Porsha's stomach.
She cried long and hard.
"Johnny…" she wept bitterly.
If you weren't already dead, I'd kill you.
00000
"Look, he's waking up!"
A gruff voice spoke. "You two, outta here!"
"What?" said another male voice, sounding indignant.
"Now."
"You heard him. rich boy," said the British woman. "Off we go."
The sound of two persons departing was heard as Johnny began to force his eyes open.
He could not see at first. There was a bright light and it would take a moment for his eyes to adjust.
He felt sore all over.
Then he remembered.
DiMarco!
Johnny sat up, which was painful. He noticed he was in a soft cot.
And then a pair of large gentle hands gripped his shoulders, steadying him and laying him back down.
He thought he might've resisted, shown fear at the unfamiliar touch.
And yet it was not so unfamiliar.
"It's ok, little Johnny, I am here," said a deep, thick Russian-accented voice.
Johnny turned his head and saw a large, hulking white tiger looking warmly at him with a smile.
Johnny gaped. "Uncle Ivan?"
…..