Clipped (The Clipped Saga Book 1) by Devon McCormack

Author:Devon McCormack [McCormack, Devon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-10-11T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

“You sure we can trust this guy?” Kinzer asked.

“I’m sure,” Dedrus replied.

They sat at a table in a cafe.

In a corner booth, a few teens flipped through comics. A woman at a table stacked with interior design magazines fussed at her stroller-bound infant as she picked its pacifier up off the floor. Several homeless people, with carts and bags, slept in cushioned chairs. A girl who couldn’t have been more than seventeen bustled behind the counter, running between baked goods and the espresso machine.

“Dedrus,” Kinzer said, “someone ratted me and Janka out. It could’ve been anyone. Maybe even Fie.”

He sipped from a white coffee mug.

“I know we can’t trust everyone, but between the Raze being after us and us having the Anti—”

“Could you keep it down?”

Dedrus lowered his voice. “We have…” He eyed Maggie. She stood in the adjoining bookstore, between two aisles of magazines, flipping through a copy of Vogue.

“That’s an even better reason to keep our fucking mouths shut.”

“We just won’t mention her, okay?”

A woman in her seventies, trembling with a walker, made her way through the café. She approached their table.

“Freddie,” she said to Dedrus in a scratchy smoker voice. “Those bathrooms are disgusting. Will you help me, dearie?”

“Of course, grams.” Dedrus hopped out of his chair and helped the crone into the chair beside Kinzer.

Fie’s gift was shifting, so his misleading appearance didn’t surprise Kinzer. However, it was an unpleasant-looking disguise. The crone’s face was as wrinkly as crumpled aluminum foil. Scattered around the wrinkles were moles and warts of varying sizes. She wore a muumuu of a dress that did nothing to suggest the sort of figure that Fie’d shaped into.

Fie positioned his crone-form in the chair. “Oh, thank you,” he said. He leaned toward Dedrus. “Okay, seriously, what’s he doing here?”

Kinzer assumed that when Fie had finally returned his call, Dedrus had told him about what had happened to him and Janka.

“He’s trying to help,” Dedrus said.

“Considering what happened to Janka, I don’t think it’s a good idea to trust him.”

“I lost my wings, too,” Kinzer said.

“Could be a diversion. Convince us you’re still one of us. You never—” Fie held up a shriveled finger. He turned and pushed out a phlegm-filled cough. “Oh, lordie!” he proclaimed, still in the scratchy, smoker voice.

“We need,” Dedrus said, “a place to hide out.”

“I can’t help you.” He wheezed, struggling to move phlegm out of the crone’s windpipe.

“What? Why not?”

“Everything’s gone to shit. After you told me about Janka and Kinzer, I tried to warn Donna and Krimson. Can’t get ahold of them. As far as I know, they’re off the grid. They’re my contacts to all my resources.”

“I couldn’t get ahold of them, either,” Dedrus said.

Bad news, Kinzer thought.

Based on what had happened the night before, he doubted they’d been warned, and it was likely that the Raze had gotten to them.

“The Raze came to our house,” Dedrus said. “Tried to kill us.”

“It’s a fucking bloodbath,” Fie said. “All bets are off. Just get your asses hidden and wait for this shit to blow over.

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