Marcus Hartwell's Arc

Chapter 6 of 7

Marcus stood in the empty street. The papers weighed nothing, but he could not make his feet move. Through the shop window he saw a lamp climb the stairs. He had told Emma to lock her door. He had not decided whether he would keep his word to Aldrich or run. The shop door opened again. Emma stepped out, still in her apron. She had not gone up. She watched him with her father's suspicion in her young face. "You're not telling me something," she said. "You come back after dark. You take the papers. Then you tell me to hide." She crossed her arms. "I'm going to fetch my father. He'll know what to do." Marcus reached for her. "Emma, wait. Please." If she raised her father, if she raised the town, Aldrich would learn of it. Then no quiet trade would save any of them. "Why should I wait?" A carriage rolled to a stop behind them. Marcus knew the horses before the door opened. Aldrich stepped down, gold rings bright under the streetlamp. He did not hurry. He smiled at Emma like a man greeting a friend. "Miss Richardson," he said. "You kept my clerk's papers so well. He speaks highly of you." Emma looked from the old man to Marcus. The truth arrived in her face all at once. She stepped back toward the door. Aldrich moved faster than his years. He caught her wrist. From his coat he drew a small glass jar. Inside curled a pale, ridged thing, like a scorpion folded into itself, its claws twitching against the glass. "No," Marcus said. His hand went to the revolver. It stayed there. His fingers would not close on it. Aldrich pressed the jar to Emma's neck and worked the lid. The creature slid out and vanished under her skin. Emma gasped, then went still. Her eyes stayed open, but something behind them dimmed. "This is what I ship to Mr. K," Aldrich said calmly. "People. Grown quiet, filled, and sent along." He released Emma's wrist. She stood swaying, silent. He pulled a briefcase from the carriage and set it in Marcus's arms. "Two and a half million. More than a house. Enough to forget this town." He leaned close. "If word of the parasites ever spreads, I will come and take care of you. You understand the phrase." Marcus held the case. He did not open it. His hands shook. Aldrich climbed back into the carriage. "Go home to your family," he said. "I am going home to mine, in New York." The door shut. The horses pulled him into the dark. Marcus stood alone with Emma. She breathed slow and even, staring at nothing, the thing already growing inside her. He had the money. He had his family's house. He had let it happen. The briefcase felt heavier than any gun.