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Jeremiah…
A cold sweat spread over Jeremiah’s skin. If the Wolves weren’t able to cut the feed, there was going to be no way to get this genie back into the bottle. The Sheep’s deepest nightmares were about to be brought to life in a fever dream, lit by expensive lights. Jeremiah scanned the room.
The curtains might be flammable. Under his breath, Jeremiah cursed himself for not being a smoker. His fingers brushed across his empty pocket. No lighter. There weren’t any candles to knock over, and even though the situation had turned stressful, no guests were fidgeting with unlit cigarettes. He scanned the crowd for the young men he had seen in the coffee shop. They huddled together close to the wall, eyes wide, and focused on the screen.
They probably carried vapes, but it was worth a try before things progressed further. He had to assume that the wolves’ tech team was proficient at their jobs. If worst came to worst, he could start an electrical fire in the bathroom. The idea of himself smoldering made him wince. Squaring his shoulders, he took a deep, calming breath. Red would do him right when he told the story to their son. He’d make the whole situation heroic instead of desperate.
Jeremiah stepped through a gap in the crowd and stood close to the group of familiar young men. He turned his face up toward the screen they were staring at. The man in the golden mask was talking again. Jeremiah said to no one in particular, “This is not what I expected.”
“Me either.” Snorted the boldest of the guys from the coffee shop. “We were thinking about taking a window out.”
“And miss the show?” Jeremiah gestured toward the screen and then drew his ticket out of his pocket. “I bought this for almost five hundred dollars in a coffee shop this afternoon from a high school kid. Last-minute flights aren’t cheap.”
“No kidding.” The guy looked at him and gave a double take. “Holy shit, are you the guy who bought Barry’s ticket?”
Jeremiah tilted his head, as if looking at the young man for the very first time. “Do I know him? A kid about this tall. His ears stick out.” He gestured toward the screen with the card. “On my flight here, I had about convinced myself I’d been duped.”
“Did you see the guy collapse after he ate the appetizer?”
“I think everyone saw that.” Jeremiah glanced over toward the bolted door that others were struggling to force open. “What I can’t decide is if those are actors or if some guests are panicking.”
A dude with a bad haircut rubbed his arm awkwardly and pressed close to the wall. “I don’t like it. We should leave.”
Jeremiah gave a halfhearted shrug. “I’d leave if it meant I could get a smoke.”
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The boldest one nodded. “A breather would be good.”
Jeremiah rubbed his hands across his empty pockets. “You don’t have any cigarettes, do you?” On the big screen, a man in a mask swabbed blue cream onto the end of a dowel. Jeremiah didn’t have a lot of time left. “And a lighter?”
The group looked toward the fellow closest to the wall with the bad haircut and wide owl eyes. The guy fished around in his jacket’s inside pocket. “I don’t think you should smoke in the building.” He tapped out a cigarette.
Jeremiah shrugged. “What are they gonna do? Lock the doors? Throw me out?” He accepted the cigarette from the guy.
The bold one chuckled. “I wouldn’t mind being thrown out right now.”
As a flame flickered above the young mans fingers, Jeremiah bent down and lit the cigarette he’d given him. He’d been fourteen the last time he smoked. Unlike Red, he hated the taste. As he took a pull, the white paper tip lit a bright electric orange.
*
David…
David waited until the waiters and waitresses had loaded themselves into their unadorned black vans. Where did you order humans like that with no conscious at all? His skin crawled.
Within the house, now that the body was gone, the Sheep had turned back to the screen, trained to their consumption of visual distractions. Their culture projected to them a never ending curated product of their existence. When the staff were out of his line of sight, David approached the house. Nails scraping paint off the spiral staircase, in his Bear shape, he climbed to the second floor with swift agility.
Once on the landing, it only took a few tries to pry open the door. The Sheep on the first floor hadn’t yet begun focusing on other escape routes but the most basic. Only one had tried to bust the reinforced glass out of a window. The wooden chair had bounced back without making so much as a crack. Was this grand old house outfitted with bullet proof glass? Who were these people? He heard a hiss coming from down the hall, the whirring of machines, and light seeped from under the edge of one door. The absence of Blossom’s scent confused him. They must have brought her from the other direction.
*
Jeremiah…
Taking a bitter, awkward pull from the cigarette, Jeremiah gave the group of young men a thankful nod. “I sure do appreciate it.” He gestured to the doors that led to the bathrooms. “I think taking this out of the main room would be more discrete.”
The bold one pointed to the screen, where the girl recoiled from the approaching stick. “Don’t you want to see?”
“Right this minute, I want this more.”
In the hallway, there was a locked storage room door, two bathrooms and a flight of stairs draped with a decorative red velvet rope. Somehow, that was working on the sheep. A handful of guests clustered further down the hall at the front entrance, trying to work on the lock and force the door. These were less stupid than those clustered in the ball room, staring at a screen. He sniffed for the scent of Wolf, tasting the air beyond the bitterness of the cigarette and the stink of the Sheep. Jeremiah froze as he caught Bear instead. David.
Thin and muted, a hint of his ring brother threaded through the charged air. He hoped David would escape the fire. When Jeremiah touched his cigarette to the aged fabric of a vintage settee, a smoldering circle opened. Then he brushed the burning tip across the curtains and the delicate fabric of the sheer. Fire whooshed upward and drew the attention of those working on the door. Jeremiah pretended to try to hinder the flame, all the while tipping the end of his lit cigarette against flammable options as the Sheep turned toward the new danger. He backed away and dropped the cigarette into a small, tasteful trashcan brimming with crumpled napkins. The contents leapt to flame.
One woman cried out. “Find a fire extinguisher, oh my God.”
In the renewed panic, Jeremiah stepped over the rope and took the stairs two at a time. At the top, David’s scent feathered to the left, and he ran down the hall toward the sound of screaming.