~3.4~

Michael looked up from his book, alerted by the sudden realization of some sound from below. The sudden uncharacteristic movement of the man who had been sitting hunched over his book, still as a stone gargoyle, also roused Stephen from his own literary reverie.

“What is it?” Stephen asked.

“The van’s engine just turned over,” Michael said. He looked over the edge of the building. “They’re moving away… better stow that book and start looking dutiful. I expect we’ll be having visitors in a moment.”

“Visitors?” Stephen repeated.

“Somebody giving us new orders or otherwise cutting us into the loop,” Michael said. “Something’s up… something’s happening.”

“You said nothing would happen tonight,” Stephen protested.

“I also said I could be wrong,” Michael said. “Normally if the van parked here, I’d say we had to be extra vigilant because it makes us a target… but Ivan wouldn’t have parked the van here and left it if the area wasn’t secure. On the other hand, he wouldn’t be moving Mama in the middle of the night without good reason.”

“What do you think it is?” Stephen asked. “Rival gang?”

“We aren’t a gang, therefore no gang is our rival,” Michael said. “Though some may be our enemies.”

“I think I’d rather have a rival than an enemy,” Stephen said.

“Either could shoot you just as dead,” Michael reminded him.

Stephen shivered.

“When they laid me off, all I was worried about was making my next house payment and buying food,” Stephen said. “And finding another job.”

“At least your house payment problem was self-correcting,” Michael said.

“Funny,” Stephen said. He shivered, suddenly very aware of the chill in the night air. “The point is, I never dreamed something like tribe existed, right under everybody’s nose… once I got taken in, I thought my problems were solved.”

“Life is a series of problems,” Michael said. “Solving one introduces another. Kind of like a video game, except nobody’s hurrying to get to the end.”

“Funny,” Stephen said.