Jack Thompson's Arc

Chapter 15 of 25

Jack stepped out of the library with Lady Luck under his arm and the dice quiet in his pocket. A red roadster ripped past the curb, brass fittings flashing. Dr. Owl sat behind the wheel, calm as glass. Behind him, a pack of cybernetic wolves loped in tight formation, red plates catching the sun. Jack's gut dropped. They were headed for 13. For Amelie. For the only people who could still teach him. He pushed off the doorframe and limped hard after them. He made it three steps. A shape peeled off the alley wall and blocked his path. Black suit. Black helmet with a white eight painted across the face. Two blades crossed at the back. Eight stood still as a closed door. "Owl will catch them," Eight said. Flat. No threat in it. Just weather. "He's already past you." They tilted their head a fraction toward the street, where wolf prints pressed fresh into the dust, ringed faintly in red. A scout had marked the trail. Owl knew exactly where to go. Jack tried to step around. Eight moved with him. "I was sent to finish what 13 couldn't," Eight said. "You're the job now." A blade slid free without sound. Jack braced on Lady Luck and let his hand drift to the dice. Blackjack stirred behind his ribs, awake but seated. He held the bridge steady. Held himself steady. He fired first. The reels spun and the shot bent low, clipping Eight's knee through the suit. Eight dropped one leg and still didn't flinch. Jack threw a card. It split the blade's flat and knocked it spinning into the gutter. He didn't wait. He limped past, shoulder grazing Eight's, breath ragged. Behind him, Eight rose on the ruined knee, watching him go. No chase. Not yet. "You'll come back through me," Eight said. Jack didn't answer. He rounded the corner where the roadster had vanished. The street was empty. Only tracks, only a red feather pressed into the dust at the curb, already drying. Owl had been here. Owl was gone. Jack stood alone on the pavement, steady in his head, late to the only people who could save him. He'd kept himself. He'd lost them.