FORGIVEN Snippet #3

Setting: Street near the warehouse Riley and Peter were staking out.

Situation: Trappers about to make a raid on ***

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When the trappers arrived, Riley and Beck walked to the end of the street to meet them. It was a small team: Masters Stewart and Harper, along with Journeymen Trappers Remmers and Jackson. The last member of the team was a surprise— her ex- boyfriend Simon. That had to be their master’s doing, probably Harper’s way of getting “Saint” back in action after his horrific injury at the Tabernacle.

Beck did all the talking, bringing the trappers up to speed. While she listened, Riley couldn’t help but notice that Simon kept watching her. She ignored him as best she could, but it wasn’t easy. Their history wasn’t the best, though it’d started out really good— they’d been dating, maybe even falling in love— and then he’d almost died at the hands of a demon. From that moment, on he’d changed into a bitter, paranoid guy.

Stop staring at me!

Riley shuffled her feet to deal with the cold, her breath and that of her companions clouding white in the night air. As the trappers talked among themselves, a man wandered up to the group, one of the countless homeless dudes in the city. He was clad in numerous layers of secondhand clothes with a ragged red- and- black- checked blanket on the top. His stocking cap proclaimed he was an Iowa Hawkeyes fan, or at least a fan of warm outerwear. Riley didn’t want to imagine what it was like to live on the streets when it was this cold.

“You folks got any spare change?” the man asked, his eyes a piercing blue despite his unshaven face. The guy wasn’t as smelly as most of the transients, and that suggested he found a spot at a shelter every now and then. Simon dug in his pocket and handed over a few dollars. Jackson added a five to the donation. Riley had a dollar in her pocket and she gave it to him.

Then Beck waved the man over.

“Hang around here a lot?” Beck asked, and got a nod in return. “That buildin’,” he said, pointing down the street. “Any idea of how many work in there?”

“Five or six.”

“What happens in there?”

The fellow cocked his head in thought. “Bottles in and bottles out. I ask them to help me out, but they don’t pay any attention to me. I’m just another street ghost to them.”

Beck extracted a ten from his billfold and put in the dude’s hand. “Thanks. Have breakfast on me.”

“God bless you,” the fellow replied. Then he smiled, his teeth surprisingly healthy. “Keep looking up, man. That’s where the truth is. Always look up.” He shuffled off .

“Another crazy,” Remmers said, shaking his head. “They’re everywhere now.”

“Probably a vet. There are a lot of them on the streets,” Jackson said.

“The thanks of a grateful nation . . .” Beck muttered.

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(c) 2012 Jana Oliver

FORGIVEN

Macmillan Children’s Books (UK & Australia) March 1st

St. Martin’s Griffin (US ) March 27th