Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2.
After sharing a brief look of surprise, Randall and Loch leaped to their feet, somehow managing not to trip over their chained feet, and shuffled towards the larger boy, blocking the doorway with the ease of people used to their restraints. Loch was the first to arrive before the now-opened entrance and looked at their bailer. He was a lean boy in his mid-teens and somehow still kept a light tan on his skin, even after the long winter, which was a clear indicator of the fact he spent most of his time outdoors; from Loch's memories, he knew the boy standing in his way managed to acquire a part-time job working with the lumberjacks.
"Well, what are you still standing there for, Chester? Help us out of these bloody cuffs, will you?" Loch said, pointing towards the key ring the older boy was swirling around his finger.
With a smug, punch-inducing smirk, Chester looked down his nose at Loch and replied, "I don't remember Mother Superior telling me I had to unlock your chains, she just said I had to unlock the door."
Randall soon stood next to his friend and gave Chester his signature tight-lipped grin before saying, "Don't be a wank, Chesty. Just chuck us the keys, and we'll return them to Mother Leanne's office when we're done."
"Oh no, no. I can't trust Mother Superior's keys to you two little monsters. I'm surprised you guys weren't just thrown to the wolves after what you did. Apparently, Mr. Patterson even brought the constables over; if Mother Superior hadn't chucked you into the box, I doubt you would have been able to talk your way out of it. All that trouble just over a dying mutant." Chester said with scorn as he wagged his finger in Loch's face.
With a quick movement, Loch's hand shot out like a snake, gripped Chester's wagging finger, and bent backward, making the large boy squeal in pain. In a rush to help free his trapped finger, Chester dropped the keys, which Randall scooped up. As Randall bent over to unlock his restraints, Chester was trying his full force to free his finger, which was turning purple under the pressure; however, even with his free hand added in, he couldn't force Loch's fist apart. Loch gave the other boy a dead stare, knowing the other boy couldn't pry his hand apart.
"Soil you Loch! Let go! Or I'll tell Mother Superior." Chester yelled out after several more unsuccessful attempts.
"Next time, don't be so long-winded," Loch replied as he released the older boy's finger while shoving the boy backward as he followed up with, "Now bugger off."
After taking a couple of stumbling steps back, Chester shot a venomous glare at Loch, rubbed his finger, and spat, "You little scourge, just you wait. You little freaks will all be purged one day."
"Is that a threat? Do you want to end up like Billy?" Loch uttered in response as his gaunt-like face in Chester's eyes took on a more monstrous-looking appearance in the shadow of the tin shed.
Without uttering another word, Chester sneered in mock bravado and took quick steps away, heading across the snow-swept field towards the sizeable barn-like building. As the older boy retreated, Loch turned back to his friend with a cheeky grin, erasing the dead-eyed look from his face. "Haha, using Billy's disappearance was such a good idea when dealing with those bullies." Loch laughed.
Randall shook his head at his friend's foxlike grin as he stooped to unlock Loch's restraints now that he had taken his own off. While he did that, he replied, "It's working for now, but you better hope Billy doesn't just suddenly turn up, or you are so screwed. That psycho will rip you apart. Ha."
"Ahh, I'm not worried. If that bully turns up again, I might really make him disappear." Loch said the last part with a little too much venom than a boy his age should express.
After the clinking sound of chains hitting the floor after being freed, Randall stood up and gave his friend another headshake. He didn't chastise Loch for his evil thoughts, as he knew better than anyone how much Billy used to torment his friend. With a simple pat to bring his friend's attention to him, as it looked like Loch's mind was wandering. "Come on, Loch. Let's get out of here already. Now that we're free; we can get those berries off Jack to help Lacey. The last time I saw her she could barely stay conscious for longer than thirty minutes."
"True. She can't be doing too well with just those two looking after her. Can you take the keys back to Mother Leanne's office yourself? I'll get the squirrel off Jack and head to Grandma's place to brew the tincture." Loch asked after Randall reminded him of what was most important.
"No problem. I'll cover for you if I'm unlucky enough to bump into her and see if I can scrounge us up some scraps for breakfast." Randall replied.
"Don't worry too much about breakfast. I'll get Granny to make the squirrel into a broth for us. It'll be much better." Loch said as he couldn't help his stomach grumble in protest at the talk of food.
"Oh, that'd be awesome. Well, hurry off then and get us some grub. Just make sure that old witch doesn't put you into the broth." Randall joked with a cheeky grin as he made his way toward the larger building across from their previous accommodation, which sounded out the clitter-clatter of multiple people moving about.
Seeing the extensive building's inhabitants awakening and starting their day, Loch rushed over to the left side of the building closest to the crumbling wall, where a few bare foliage trees stood. As he arrived at the foot of a tree, Loch looked left and right before letting out a gentle whistle into the brisk air of the morning. Looking further up the trunk, he could make out a smooth hollow the size of a head about eight feet up. As if in answer to his whistle, a black feathered head with a grey mohawk stuck its head out and looked around. Jack the Raven noticed Loch, and after letting out a soft caw in excitement, he leaped from his hollow with the treasured squirrel in tow. After dropping the squirrel in Loch's waiting hand, Jack took his customary spot on Loch's shoulder and rubbed his beak on his cheek.
Having double-checked that the berries remained in the squirrel's pouch, Loch wrapped the animal in his tattered blanket as if it were made of gold. Then, he gave Jack a gentle scratch on his head while whispering, "Good job, buddy. Now, let's head to Granny's. She might even have one of those glow worms for you." With a caw in excitement at the possible treat, Jack took to the skies and circled above Loch's head.
Loch then headed over to the crumbing wall and passed over a part that was half missing most of the stones, entering a street about two carts wide. Walking along the mismatched cobblestone sidewalk to avoid the muddied center of the road, Loch entered a connecting street from the orphanage that was known to the area as Sweet Street. The name wasn't official; residents sarcastically dubbed it so, due to the area's persistent stench. Most of the buildings along this street were shop fronts, along with a couple of rough-looking lodging houses. This was one of the better-kept areas of the district known as The Shambles, which took up only about an eighth of the city known as Hornburg, even though it made up half of the population of the immense walled city.
As Loch headed down the familiar streets he had trounced upon many a time, he watched as the sleepy town came awake. With shop owners unlocking doors, while clean but drabbed dressed shop assistants hung products or wrote the current day specials on chalkboards and placed them on the cobblestone sidewalks. Loch sped up his walk every time he made his way past a bakery or produce store, with the mouthwatering smells of freshish food wafting out of their open doors or smelling cooked assortments coming from pop-up stalls that lined up at the more heavily trafficked spots on the streets. Loch was just about to leave the so-called commercial district of the Shambles and head towards the more run residential area when he spotted someone who did not fit in.
A middle-aged man was walking along the pathway on a direct course for Loch. There were several things about the man that made him stand out in a place like the Shambles. The man's clothes, for one, set him far apart from the people he was currently rubbing shoulders with. He was dressed in a stylish three-piece suit with a dark red vest, a matching top hat, and a cane with what looked like a lion's head sculpted on top. His clothes weren't exactly out of place; some of the more successful residents of the Shambles also wore suits, but they did not compare to the one this man was wearing. It did not have the look of multiple wears or the sewn-in spots from tears. It was pristine. His face also had a picture-perfect clean to it, with a carefully manicured thin mustache that had a slight curl to the sides.
However, one other thing that set the man apart from the general residents of the Shambles was his bearing. With his perfectly erect, confident posture, he didn't have the slight hunch to the shoulders like the many people who passed him, giving the man the curious but fearful eye; his back was as straight as a plank of wood and exuded strength and dignity. This was mainly reflected in the way he seemed to glide along the path, as if each step showed complete self-assurance and his secure place in the world. Loch's complete attention on the oddly placed man also allowed him to notice the dirty, wrinkled hand deftly sweeping in and out of the cane-wielding man's jacket pocket from behind. The figure of an older, shifty-looking man, with his filth-covered grey hair and scraggly beard, took off from behind the man with something clutched in his grime-covered fingers.
Indecision froze Loch; he couldn't decide whether to yell at the dapper man about the pick-pocketing or smirk at the man's misfortune. As his better nature prevailed, he opened his mouth to call out a warning but paused, leaving his face in a slack jawed position. The middle-aged man only paused for a brief moment once the thief ran after his successful pickpocket, along with a muttered "Fool" from the well-dressed man; he stretched out his hand to the fleeing thief as if he was expecting his stolen item would just fly back to him; instead, something almost more amazing happened. In a blink of an eye, the suit-wearing man transformed his hand into a three-finger claw, closely resembling a large eagle's talon, tipped with razor-sharp curved nails. The transformation didn't stop there, however, as if his sleeve was a clown car, the well-dressed man's arm elongated almost twenty meters within but a moment, the flesh that was revealed from his sleeve did not resemble a normal human skin at all; it seemed to have developed what appeared to be blackened scales, and more resembled a whip, as if his arm had no bones.
Also similar to a whip was the sound of a loud 'crack' from the elongated monstrous arm snapping out towards the fleeing thief's retreating form. The now talon-looking hand grabbed the fleeing thief by the back of his skull. The sharpened claws easily punctured the old man's flesh, bringing the thief to a sudden stop. The gentleman yanked the thief back in an arc before he could cry out, faster than a blink. Shooting straight up into the air as if he were a human kite before being slammed back down to earth and face first into the dirt-covered cobblestones with an earthquake tumbling 'bang' right in front of the well-dressed gentlemen's feet. The force of the old thief's skull hitting the path caused spiderweb cracks to spread out from the impact spot, leaving a slight depression in the dirt. The thief's head scattered out in bits as the old man's face and brains spread in all directions as if someone had smashed a water bomb filled with blood onto the ground.
Loch knew he should start fleeing, like almost all the other people who were on the same street. Still, he was stuck staring at the well-dressed man, not because of the casual murder; he had seen people killed in worse ways walking the dark streets of the Shambles at night and not the freaky way the man's arm morphed but as the man bent down to pick up, with a now normal looking human hand, what looked like a billfold from the now dead thief's hand, Loch saw that the man's vest breast pocket, that was hidden by his overcoat, held a silver badge pinned to it that looked to be about a finger long. The silver badge was in the shape of a shield with an engraving of a saber coming up against what looked like the palm of a dragon's claw, as if blocking it from descending. Loch couldn't help but say out loud in his excitement and surprise at the sight, "Hunter!"