Apocalypse: Fairy System by Macronomicon (fox in socks read aloud txt) 📕

had prioritized his own protection over information gathering, and it looked like that was going to slow down his job. Not by a lot, given he was about to go home and begin producing gold bullion.

I wonder if I could hire a private investigator. No, it might be better to buy one from the slave house. Then I know they’re not involved.

“Nancy!” A single voice cut through the chatter of humans littering the streets, dragging Jeb’s thoughts back to the present.

“Naancyyy!” Another voice echoed through the streets. Young.

Jeb frowned and changed the direction of his foot, heading toward the voices.

“Nancy! Where are you!?”

Jeb turned down an alley that connected to the next road over. Several men sat in the alley, conserving their energy, ribs sticking out like the dry twigs of a mummy. Jeb passed them without a second glance.

Can’t save everyone.

Jeb followed the voices to a small backroad, where he spotted about two dozen children marching through the street, hollering ‘Nancy’ at the top of their lungs, many of them crying.

There’s Rufio, Jeb thought, eyes narrowing as a memory triggered. ‘And now you told a stranger Nancy’s name. Great. Good job.’

Their Nancy is missing? Today!?

Jeb had been close enough to bump shoulders with the culprit! Had the bastard been listening when the kid mentioned Nancy’s name and used that to steal her? Jeb quickly ran through his memory of the day’s events and didn’t remember anyone being close enough to have heard them.

There was nobody in eyeshot, but there was a distinct possibility that Jeb had seen them immediately before or after if they’d been close enough to eavesdrop with magic.

Damn, I wish child-killers would just wear signs that said ‘I’m the bad guy’. Make life a lot simpler.

Jeb lurked in the dark of the alleyway for a moment, casing the two dozen mewling children of varying age, considering his options.

His gaze settled on Rufio, the teenage leader of the pack. I need an in. He has an in. He’s a fighter, and he’s got a bone to pick with the guy stealing his people.

Oh god, I’m considering working with a teen. Kill me now.

Rather than off himself as was appropriate, Jeb followed the wandering horde of children until they mostly ran out of gas. Some of them still shouted for Nancy, while others wrapped their arms around their legs and curled up like pill bugs, weeping into the unfeeling asphalt.

Their leader had pulled ahead of the rest of them, calling out the girl’s name incessantly, his voice hoarse from overuse.

Now’s a good opportunity, Jeb thought to himself, spooling out a strand of Myst and extending it to where Rufio was staring blankly at the side of a building. With a little bit of effort, Jeb formed the string of glowing orange myst into some respectably legible writing, slipping it out onto the road.

Shut up.

You and me are going to have a talk.

Come into the alley.

Rufio’s eyes scanned the invisible message, then tracked over to where Jeb was pulling the unspent Myst back into his Core.

From this distance, Jeb probably looked like…well, like an older dude stalking children through the dark streets of L.A. after dark, looming in an alley.

In essence: not good.

Jeb crooked his finger, grinning evilly at the grieving teen.

This’ll determine if this is the kind of kid I can use.

If he screamed for his friends, he was a little too smart to use. If he believed Jeb right off the bat, he was too dumb.

Ideally, Rufio would come alone, take nothing at face value, then try to kill Jeb. That was the kind of bloodhound Jeb needed. Rufio glanced back at his friends, squared his shoulders, and marched toward the alley, his expression grim.

Okay, so he’s not too smart. Let’s see if he’s too dumb.

“What do you want, pops?” he asked, raising his chin arrogantly at Jeb in a ‘punch me here’ kinda way. God I hate kids, because they all inevitably become teens.

“Before we begin,” Jeb said, choosing his threats carefully, “if you repeat what I’m about to tell you to anyone before it becomes common knowledge, I will literally give you a caning.” Jeb clicked his cane against the ground for emphasis.

He meant it, too.

Rufio crossed his arms. “Spill.”

“I’m hunting the guy who took Nancy. I want your help flushing him out,” Jeb said.

“How the fuck do you know about Nancy?” Rufio bristled.

“Because you’re walking down the street shouting her name!” Jeb hissed. “Look, my plan involves housing you guys somewhere safe to flush the guy out, direct his attention towards me.”

“‘Somewhere safe’, huh?” Rufio asked.

“View this objectively. You kids represent a large pool of free power to some morally bankrupt cocksucker. If we remove your kids from circulation, the culprit’s gotta make a move if he wants the metaphorical gravy train to keep running.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot.”

“It’s my job.” Jeb shrugged.

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Well, all you have to do is give me custody of your friends here, and send any more you find my way. Simple.”

“How do I know you’re not the one that took Nancy?” Rufio demanded, whipping his pistol out and pointing it at Jeb’s forehead.

Jeb extended a strand of Myst out his foot, through the ground and snuck it up behind Rufio.

“You were there when he said her name. You were standing right there. Were you watching us?”

Passing marks.

“You’ve never seen me before then, have you?” Jeb said, slowly raising his hands. “I just arrived in town. Ask around.”

“You expect me to believe anyone is interested in helping us?” the teen demanded, the gun shaking in his hands as he psyched himself up to commit murder. “No, you gotta be the guy. You