Page 51 of Backpacking through Bedlam

Manhattan looked largely like I remembered it. The stores that were still open were different ones, and there were more “For Rent” signs in the windows than I would have expected, but the city itself, the bones of it, were the same as they had always been. It was reassuring, in its urbanized way, and I clung to that impression of familiarity as Darius pulled up to the curb.

“You’re here,” he said.

“‘Here’ being?”

“Don’t ask me. This is where the Lady said I needed to take you, and I don’t know anything more than that. Other than this is where you get out of my car, since I’m not taking you back and risking pissing her off.”

“Fair enough.” I shrugged and unbuckled my belt, reaching for the door.

Sally caught my wrist. I turned to look at her.

“Yeah?”

“What do you mean, ‘fair enough’?” she demanded. “He wants to dump us out on a random street corner, and you’re okay with that?”

“He’s doing what a god told him to do. I don’t think arguing gets us very far.” I shook off her grasp and got out of the car, taking my first breath of Manhattan air.

As always, it smelled of frying onions and cooling asphalt, the construction and cooking that were always happening in the city coming to greet yet another tourist. I snagged my bag and slung it over my shoulder, stepping up onto the sidewalk to wait for the others. Thomas followed a moment later, his own bag in one hand, and came to stand beside me. Sally looked sullen as she emerged from the car, shooting a sour glance back at Darius.

He rolled his window down, nodding to us. “If you need a ride back, I’m sure the Lady will let me know,” he said. “I’m one of the best she has for this kind of distance. You folks stay safe, all right?”

“We’ll do our best,” I said, looking around. The street wasn’t particularly crowded; not too unusual for this time of day. Workers on their lunch break and other fast-walking people went about their business, along with a few hustlers, and a small gaggle of what I presumed were tourists, but that was all. We were here. Time to start blending in. Which might be something of a challenge when we were just standing here looking like scruffy backpackers getting ready to spend a year wandering around Europe, but I’ve done stranger.

Darius nodded, rolled up his window, and pulled away from the curb, vanishing down the street faster than should have been possible, leaving us alone.

Twelve

“You can run, you can hide, but your family will always find you. Stop seeing that as a bad thing. It has nothing to do with blood.”

—Juniper Campbell

Standing on a random street in Manhattan, with no real idea where to go from here

SALLY MOVED UNTIL SHE was practically standing on top of Thomas and me, and I realized she was almost shaking. Bands of marauders and giant monsters were inside her comfort zone. Big human cities weren’t. Not anymore.

“It’ll be okay,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “We wouldn’t be here if there weren’t a reason.”

“Trust Alice when she says things like that,” advised Thomas. “She’s run her entire life on a policy of ‘Well, now that I’m here, might as well see what happens,’ and while I won’t say it’s always been easy, it’s certainly worked so far.”

I wrinkled my nose at him, then turned a slow circle, gawking like the tourist I was.

This was a wide two-way street with multiple lanes, a commercial block with office buildings and storefronts stretching from corner to corner. From where we were standing, I could see at least three small convenience stores, a supermarket, a shoe store, and a shop that appeared to be selling nothing but fancy cupcakes. Anyplace but New York, I would have assumed I was wrong about that last one. No one can make a living on cupcakes alone.

“Okay,” I said, coming to a stop. “Nothing immediately jumping out at me. Which means it’s time for Mary.”

“Time for Mary?” asked Sally blankly.

“Yeah,” I explained. “It’s time to say Mary’s name over and over until she hears me, which she always does, and shows up to tell me what we’re doing wrong. Mary doesn’t like it when I annoy her this way. She told me once that it was like someone going up to a hotel desk and ringing the little bell over and over and over again.”

“But Mary’s a super common name,” said Sally. “Wouldn’t the bell just keep ringing all the time?”

“No,” said Mary, behind her. I hadn’t even seen her appear. Sally whipped around, eyes wide. I covered my smile with my hand. It was nice to see somebody else on the receiving end of that trick for a change. “It only works when the person saying it is family. You could have said the name a million times before you called yourself a Price, and I never would have heard you. Now, it’s just a little muffled. The sound’ll get stronger the longer you’re one of mine. When Jane got married, I could barely hear Ted at all. Now he’s as loud as the rest of these assholes. I didn’t hear Tommy until Kevin was born.” She shot a smile my way.

I answered it. “Hey, Mary. You know why they dropped us off here?”

“Because this is where you needed to be,” she said, and beckoned for us to follow her as she turned toward the nearest of the convenience stores. The smallest, dirtiest one, naturally.

Sally balked, wrinkling her nose. “What could you possibly want to buy in there?” she demanded.