Serpents Rising. David A. Poulsen

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СКАЧАТЬ of the stuff. The room didn’t look or smell bad, really. I’d seen friends’ teenagers’ bedrooms, and this wasn’t all that different. Too much stuff, none of it actually put away — chaos but not filth.

      We walked around the room, looking for … I wasn’t sure what. I picked up some of the pieces of paper, more of the kind of art we’d seen on the door and walls. Same artist maybe. One scrap of paper was a note that read,

      Zoe, please come home or at least call. Your Dad and I love you and we’re going crazy not knowing where you are and if you’re okay. Please, please call or send an email. We just want to hear from you.

      Love

      Mom and Dad

      No way of knowing how the note had got to Zoe, assuming Zoe was one of the residents of the place, or whether she’d answered it.

      Cobb and I worked our way through some of the stuff, but while there was lots of it, most of it clothing, there wasn’t much to identify the occupants of the place or offer much help with our search. Again another room, this one with a door. It was open and I glanced in — more stuff, possessions that defined the word meagre. Stacked and stashed in an attempt at order.

      After maybe ten futile minutes, Cobb said, “Let’s get out of here. I’ve had enough.”

      Neither of us spoke until we were outside. It was dark by then and I was instantly aware of a different look to the street. Different sounds too. It seemed even less friendly, more serious … dour. It wasn’t a place I’d have wanted to be by myself. Cobb looked up and down the street, rubbed a gloved hand against his jaw, then turned to me.

      “Any more ideas as to where we might look?”

      I shook my head. “No, and I’m sorry I haven’t been much help up to now.”

      Cobb looked at me. “No apology necessary. If finding missing people was easy, I’d be out of a career.”

      “I guess.”

      “I’m bagged. I say we call it a day and start again in the morning. Are you game for another day of this?”

      “In for a penny, in for a pound,” I said.

      Four

      We started in the direction of the car but had only gone a couple of steps when a girl crossed the street coming our way. She was carrying something bulky and paid no attention to us, probably deliberately. She passed us and looked like she might be heading for the back of the building.

      I decided there was nothing to lose. “Zoe?”

      She slowed, almost stopped, then picked up speed. Turned the corner of the building.

      “Zoe.” I called again and started after her, Cobb right behind me.

      As we came around to the side of the building, I thought we’d lost her. Black night, no illumination here from the street’s lone streetlight. A shadow moving just ahead.

      “Zoe?”

      She kept going, now around the back of the building.

      Cobb said, “We just want to ask you about Jay Blevins. He’s in trouble and we need to find him. To help him.”

      We came around the corner and she had stopped right at the hole in the wall entrance. The tiny amount of light from the interior of the building was enough to let us see her face.

      I’d have put her at seventeen or eighteen. Pretty, or could have been with a little attention to her appearance. Her clothes were thrift store head to toe. Her light brown hair, what I could see of it, was a maze of tangles; a scarf haphazardly covered the rest. The bulky item she was carrying was a garbage bag. There was no way of knowing what it contained.

      She was looking at us. More angry than scared. Or maybe pretending to be tough. “Stay right there or I scream and fifteen guys will be down here to kick the livin’ shit out of both of you.”

      Fifteen guys. She might have been able to rustle up three or four, counting the cat, but I didn’t think pointing that out would improve our chances of getting information from her.

      “You don’t have to do that. We’re trying to find Jay. It’s important. If you could help us —”

      “What kind of trouble?”

      “I … what?”

      “You said he was in trouble. What kind of trouble?”

      Cobb answered. “We think some people might be looking for him. If they find him, it could be very bad for Jay. He doesn’t know, at least we don’t think he knows, that he’s in danger. We need to tell him and help him if he’ll let us.”

      “How do I know you’re not those guys, or cops, or guys his parents have sent out to bring him home?”

      “I guess you don’t. We can show you our ID if that’ll help. I’m a private detective. Jay’s father hired me to find him. But not to get him to go home, just to keep him from getting hurt by the people I mentioned. This gentleman is a journalist. He’s helping me.”

      “Jay doesn’t want to go home.”

      Cobb shook his head. “Like I said, this isn’t about him going home, Zoe. This is a lot more serious than that, believe me.”

      “Zoe,” I spoke softly, hoping my voice conveyed sincerity. “We don’t want to hurt you or Jay. That’s not why we’re here.”

      “Okay, let me see your ID.”

      Cobb pulled out his wallet, stepped forward with it. I fished in my pocket, found mine, and extracted a driver’s licence and Press Club membership. It wasn’t great but I hoped it might convince her. I started forward.

      “Hold it,” the sharpness of her voice echoed off the building. “Only one of you.” She pointed at me. “You, the little one, you bring the ID for both of you.”

      Cobb handed me his PI card. I guessed he was trying not to smile. The little one.

      I stepped forward and extended my arm in order to keep some distance between us, handed her the IDs. She held them so that she could examine them in the light, then passed them back to me.

      “Come on,” she said and turned and went into the building.

      We followed. No one spoke as we retraced our path back up the stairs to the last place we’d been in. When we got to her door I said, “You want me to go get the light bulb?”

      “I’ve got light. Wait here.” She went inside, closing the door behind her. She was gone long enough that I looked questioningly at Cobb. He stared straight ahead, waiting. More patient than I was.

      The door opened. Zoe stepped back, made a motion with her hand that seemed to indicate we should come inside. Cobb went in first and I followed him.

      She was right. She had light. Candles, eight or ten at least, in various shapes and lengths, were lit, giving the room a very different feel from when we’d been in it before. СКАЧАТЬ