Cindi's friend watched the footage passively with us in the gift shop. His eyes carried heavy bags, as if he hadn't gotten much sleep last night. He watched, but his head nodded along, light as a balloon.
"Cindi, did you really have to drag me all the way out to the wharf for this?" He leaned back against the counter. His black hoodie remained unzipped. Beneath the zipper, a t-shirt heralding a stark-white skull hung below the text, "Dead Ringers Death Metal."
"Come on, Raiden. Do you know who it is or not?" Cindi asked.
"Hmmm," he hummed. "Yea, I think I know who."
"Then?" she asked.
"What's in it for me?"
"I don't clock you," Cindi threatened.
He laughed. "Besides the threat of violence."
"What do you want?" I asked.
Cindi flashed me a look of disbelief, then sighed dramatically.
"I want in on whatever you guys are planning."
"What?"
"You heard me. These Eastie kids are no joke--Speaking from experience. But hey, go ahead and ask them nicely for your… box-thing."
"The blackbox," Cindi corrected.
"Right. And besides, you think Jesse would just let me let you run out there on your own? He'd kill me if he found out."
I tried to imagine it. A six-foot high school baseball player--as so described by one of Cindi's offhand remarks--walking in and swinging at this punk kid's head with a metal baseball bat, laughing maniacally. I shuddered quietly. From what Cindi's told me about him, he didn't seem the type.
Raiden continued, "The kid's name is Brady May. He plays for a band of mostly other Eastie kids. I think a few of them might be in the camera's shot." He was talking about the others with him and Lynn. The ones on the pier.
"What's his deal?" Cindi asked.
"Oh, no clue. Dude's a whackjob. I've always tried to steer clear of him. Believe me, you don't want that kind of crazy knowing who you are; and I'm not alone either. A lot of kids at Easttown High don't like him. People get a weird vibe from him, like he's always itching to get set off, but he never actually does anything. I think he's best friends with a guy from your school." He seemed genuinely put off from the guy. Maybe this was bad news.
"Lynn?" I asked. TD was a bit of a dick, but falling in with a guy like Brady? I didn't know what to think of it.
"Sure. Tall, skinny greenbean kid. Almost reminds me of Jesse."
"He's nothing like Jesse," Cindi said. The comment came out of left field. I nodded along.
"Oh I believe you." Raiden smirked. "Still, it ain't gonna be an easy time."
"That's why I'm not going alone." Cindi gestured to me. "Are you scared?"
Raiden snorted. "Like hell I am. That's why I said I was going. If the city's going to shit, I wanna be there on the front lines."
"You look exhausted," she said.
He scoffed. "I'm fine. Just woke me up is all." He ran his fingers through shiny black hair. "Didn't even give me a chance to gussy up."
"Rats don't need to 'gussy up'," Cindi taunted.
"Gent bent nerd."
Am I gonna have to put up with this all night?
"Ok, so you're in," I said in an attempt to get the conversation back on track. "What's our plan?"
"I thought the two of you already had one," Raiden said.
I looked at Cindi. She shrugged.
"Really? We got nothing?"
"Woah, woah," Raiden said. "First we gotta find them."
"Any ideas?"
"I know where they could be," he said. "Odds are, if they're not there, I may know someone who knows where they could be."
Not far from Easttown High, a skate park thrummed with the thunder of music. Guys and girls in black leather jackets and greasy hair popped ollies and grinded along metal railings with lightning fast reflexes. In one of the concrete pits, a band of sentient ripped jeans and dark eyeliner tore their guitars to smithereens. Skaters did tricks and kick flips high up above, playing along with the beat of the drums and screeching vocals.
Raiden nodded along to the music. He hummed with the lyrics. He's obviously heard them before.
Cindi bobbed her head along too, though she seemed just as out of place as I was. She walked a little closer to me. Her eyes scattered across the park, picking apart each and every movement. With each scrape and clang of plastic wheels and pavement, she listened closely, like a kid in a candy shop.
It smelled weird. Funky. Some herbal stench made my eyes water.
Raiden waved ahead at a group of people talking over their boards. One of them waved back.
"Raiden!"
"Divanshu!"
Raiden's friend pulled him into a hug. Divanshu had straight, spikey black bangs pulled across his face. He wore dark eye shadow, a leather jacket, and ripped jeans. Silver rings studded like diamonds along his hands. A silver necklace dangled outside his shirt. His threads were the stuff of emo and scene dreams.
"Dude! I didn't think you were going to come out tonight."
"And I'm not really. Just here to ask a favor."
"Sure, what do you need, dude?" He noticed me and Cindi behind Raiden. He crossed his arms and leaned back a little.
"Welcome, pipsqueaks, to the thunderdrome." He flipped his bangs and gestured to the skate park. A guitar riff breached the pit and the crowd went wild.
"You sound so dumb dude," Raiden said. He patted his shoulder lightly. "Did you see Brady's band playing tonight?"
"Oh, him? Naw. Haven't seen his crew for a few," Divanshu said. "But I'd steer clear of them if I were you."
"Trust me, wouldn't be looking for them if I wasn't asked to."
Divanshu glanced back at us, then away, avoiding our eyes. "Look man, I heard they've been stirring up trouble." Trouble? What kind of trouble was Lynn getting himself into?
It was Raiden's turn to cross his arms. "What do you mean 'stirring up trouble'?"
After a quick moment of hesitation, he said, "Heard from a few guys that Brady's been making visits to St. Agathas Street."
"What?" Raiden said. He looked like a deer in headlights, stunned.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Cindi asked.
"Hold on," Raiden said lucidly. "Yellow scarf? Yellow hoods? Those Saints?"
He nodded his head. "Yea man, the real deal."
"Shit," he cursed. He turned to us. "How much do you guys really want that thing?"
We didn't want it, we needed it. If we could deal with the paranatural, I doubt a bunch of street kids were enough to get us to call it quits. Cindi, just as assuredly, nodded her head. "Hell yes," she said. "I'm gonna give that 'Brady May' a piece of my mind."
"Hold on C. Are you really sure you wanna mess with the Saints?"
"I'm not afraid of a bunch of gangster wannabes," she said. "Yes, I'm still sure."
"And you, Monty?"
I nodded, less sure than Cindi, but I wasn't going to let her get one up on me.
"Right on, loser," Raiden said.
Divanshu asked, "What's this all about?"
"It's about finding something important," he said. "So, can you bring us to them?"
"What? Are you crazy?" he said.
"Why, you scared?" Cindi said.
Divanshu pointed his finger at her. "Listen here little lady. The Saints are bad news, okay? Even if it's not the core group, any splinter gang connected to them got some street cred. Hell, messing with any of the Big Four is like signing your own death warrant.
"The Big Four?" Cindi asked.
I piped in. "The four biggest gangs in Arete City." Raiden glanced back at me, eyebrows raised.
Divanshu said, "How the hell do you know that?"
"Research. Cops have been trying to pin a ton of unsolved cases on them for the past couple decades. Saints are usually the first suspects of the four, given their immense influence, especially in Easttown and Lenox. Then you got the Royals, primarily in Vaux. I don't know too much about the Immortals or the Warriors though."
Raiden nodded. Divanshu watched Raiden for any input from him.
"You know the weirdest trivia," Cindi said, laughing. "If what you're saying is true, then it looks like we've been living in the same apartment building as a dangerous dude."
"I still don't entirely believe it," I said, thoughtfully. "Yea, he seems like a jackass. But I never caught the vibe from him that that was his angle."
"Like you know many gangsters," Cindi said.
I remembered the interaction I had with Lynn back at the complex from when I snuck out of the hospital. He seemed so normal. "Go to hell," he had said. Why didn't he do anything to me? It was just the two of us. He could have gotten away with beating the shit out of me. He didn't even lay a finger on me, no intimidation, no nothing. Just a simple twerp and go to hell. It didn't sound like someone who ran with the Saints. No, something else was going on.
"Well," Raiden said, "what do you say, Divanshu?"
He eyed the three of us and sighed. "Ah, fuck it. Alright. Have you guys got your headstones picked out yet?"
Divanshu pried open a sewer grate with a crowbar. The edges of the grate were wearing thin, with hundreds of little scratches and marks. It clattered on the pavement with a final heave. The sound scattered along the abandoned lot like a ripple in a pond. He stood upright, panting, out of breath. "Okay, phew. Get in." He gestured toward the dark cavity.
"Ew," Raiden said simply.
"Looks like home to you Ratfuss?"
He glanced back at Cindi. "Don't make me regret this." He lowered himself into the sewer, feet first, until only his head poked out the top. "Just so you know. I'm only doing this so Jesse doesn't have to put up with you."
Cindi snickered and Raiden descended into the dark.
"Alright," Divanshu said, "you next."
Cindi slipped beneath the entrance. Her voice echoed up the shaft, "Ew! It reeks in here."
"Yea," Raiden's voice echoed. "No shit."
Divanshu smiled and nodded at me. I gulped, shuddered, and followed Cindi down into the deep. The stench slapped me like a wall of wet, moldy towels. When I dropped down onto the landing, my sneakers went damp with murky brown water.
"Monty!" Cindi shouted. She waved her cell phone's flashlight at me. "Welcome to the shit-hole."
"Literally," I said.
"Come on," Divanshu said, dropping down next to me. "This way." He brushed some dust from his jacket then started his way down the tunnel. We all followed suit.
The sewer stretched on for what felt like half-an-hour. It was shadowy and dreary. The stale air made me want to gag. Cindi walked right beside me, perpetually pinching her nose. "Are we there yet?" she asked.
"Almost," Divanshu said.
"Did they have to hide in a damn sewer?" asked Raiden.
"How the hell would I know?"
"Cause you know where their hideout is."
"Pffft. I just know where they do their little meetups."
"Hey," I said, "how do you know where to find them?"
"Because they tried to recruit me. But it'd be a cold day in hell before you caught me running with Brady's crew."
"They must be something," Cindi said.
"I didn't know their band was like that," Raiden said.
Divanshu shook his head. "It's not the whole band. I know Jimmy and Melody are definitely not a part of the Saints stuff."
"And Lynn?" I asked, curious about what he'll think. A moment of silence passed, just a few seconds, but I knew the answer.
He said, "I'm not sure, but I wouldn't doubt it."
"Hey, shush," Raiden said. "There's noise up ahead." And like on cue, we heard echoes coming from around the corner. Divanshu leaned against the edge. He peaked around the corner and waved us closer. Down the hall, a little bit of light lit an exit.
"Dim your light," Divanshu whispered. Cindi, Raiden, and I shut our phone lights off completely. "We're here. Welcome to the belly of the beast."