Chapter 300: Planning The Exchange [2]

Before heading back to the Boardwalk, I made a stop I hadn’t been planning to skip regardless of how late it was getting.

Margaret and Martin deserved to know what was happening. Not because they were going to get involved, I didn’t want that and I was going to make sure of it but because they were living in the same space as us, breathing the same air, and keeping them in the dark about something this significant felt wrong. They weren’t soldiers and I wasn’t going to treat them like they needed to be protected from information. That was a different kind of disrespect.

So I sat them down and laid it out. Our plan. The alliance with Marlon. What we were moving toward with Callighan. I kept it concise, they didn’t need every detail, just the shape of it and when I was done I watched them both sit with it for a moment in the quiet way that people do when they’re genuinely processing rather than just waiting to respond.

Martin spoke first. His expression had settled into something that looked like it was trying to be neutral and not quite getting there.

"I’ve got no issue with you going after those people," he said carefully. "Honestly, somebody needs to." He paused, and then something more complicated moved across his face. "But I won’t pretend it doesn’t sit badly with me. Kids going up against people who kill for sport." He shook his head slightly. "It sits very badly with me."

"Are we really kids anymore, Martin?" I said. I smiled when I said it, but there wasn’t much lightness behind it.

He looked at me for a moment, really looked, the way adults sometimes do when they catch themselves seeing something in a younger person’s face that they weren’t ready to see there. Then he let out a short breath and scratched the back of his head.

"No," he said quietly. "I suppose not. Still doesn’t stop me from feeling like you should be somewhere else doing something else entirely." He glanced at Margaret, and I caught the look that passed between them.

I knew exactly where he was going.

"Don’t," I said, before he could get there. "I mean it, Martin. You’ve already been through Jackson Township. Everything you lost there, everything you rebuilt just to have to move again, you’re trying to build a life here. A real one. Families are here. Your wife is here." I shook my head. "This fight isn’t yours. I don’t want it to become yours."

"It already is ours, Ryan." His voice was gentle but firm. "They killed one of ours. You haven’t forgotten that."

I hadn’t. I wouldn’t.

"I know," I said. "And I’m sorry, I didn’t say it right. I know it touches you. But right now the best thing you can do for everyone living here is keep this place running and stable. Let Marlon’s people and my group pull Callighan’s focus onto us. Keep it pointed away from here." I looked at him steadily. "They don’t need to come after you. Their eyes are on Marlon, and after everything that’s happened, they’re on me too. Let them stay there."

Gaspar had sent Penny after me. That wasn’t random. He knew about me somehow, through Mei, maybe, or through whatever filtering happened when Lucy got taken, or both. He was curious about me specifically. Which meant his attention was occupied. And occupied attention pointed in one direction was attention not sweeping in another.

Martin exhaled slowly.

"You’re getting yourselves into some genuinely dangerous territory," he said. It wasn’t a question.

"I know that too," I said. "But the alternative is living next door to people like that indefinitely. Gaspar, Callighan, the whole group of them, as long as they’re in this city, nobody here sleeps easy. Not really. Not all the way." I paused. "You know I’m right."

Margaret had been quiet up to that point, listening, watching, turning it over. Now she looked at me directly and when she spoke her voice was soft but carried weight.

"I don’t want anyone sacrificing themselves for our safety, Ryan," she said. "I need you to understand that. That is not something I’m willing to accept."

"We’re not sacrificing ourselves," I said, and I held her gaze because I needed her to believe it. "We have every intention of coming out of this. All of us." I leaned forward slightly. "You’ve met Kunta, right?"

They both nodded. Margaret’s expression shifted, something warmer moving through it despite herself.

"She seems so young," she said softly. "About Rebecca’s age."

"She does," I agreed. "But she’s Starakian. She understands these technologies, these threats, in ways none of us do. She’s an asset we wouldn’t have without everything that led us here." I looked between them. "And we’ll have Marlon’s people standing beside us. His whole community wants Callighan gone, not just for revenge, not for power, just because they want to stop waking up every day wondering if today is the day it tips over." I let a beat pass. "And Gaspar, I can’t stress this enough. He has a Symbiote like mine. And he uses it to destroy people. To break them. To turn them into something they never agreed to be." I thought of Penny without saying her name. "That’s not something you can just leave alone and hope it stays at a safe distance."

Neither of them said anything for a moment.

Because they knew it was true.

"Symbiotes," Martin said, mostly to himself, letting the word sit in the air for a moment like he was still getting used to the shape of it. He shook his head slowly. "I’ve seen enough at this point that I can’t say it’s unbelievable. But it’s still, it’s hard to fully wrap your head around. That any of this is real."

"I feel like I’m the one who dragged you all into it," I said.

"Stop that," Martin said immediately. "Ryan. Symbiotes were here long before you showed up. Long before any of us were born, apparently. And the Starakians—" he gestured vaguely at the world outside, at all of it, at the dead walking and the cities emptied and everything that used to be normal, "—they’re the reason the Earth is in the state it’s in. You didn’t cause this. We’re all just people living on a planet that got pulled into something bigger than any of us. That’s not on you."

"He’s right," Margaret nodded. "You carry too much, Ryan. Nobody here in this community blames you for Jackson Township. Not for any of it." A small smile crossed her face, warm and unhurried. "And Wanda — she belongs to us. She’s a child of this community and we’re not abandoning her. That was never going to be a question."

I hadn’t even needed to spell out the situation fully for Margaret to understand what I’d meant when I’d mentioned Wanda. She’d just gotten there on her own, which was exactly the kind of person she was. I was more grateful for that than I knew how to say properly.

"Thank you," I said, and I meant it with more behind it than the words could really carry. "Both of you."

Then remembering I continued.

"I should also tell you, I’ll be staying with Marlon’s community for roughly the next week. It’s part of building the trust between our groups, letting them see that I mean what I say. But it’s close. The others will be here the whole time, and they’re more than capable of handling things while I’m gone."

Martin laughed and reached over to clap me on the shoulder with an open palm. "We’ll be the ones watching over your people, you idiot. Not the other way around."

It knocked a surprised smile out of me before I could stop it.

We talked a little longer nothing heavy, just wrapping up loose ends and then I excused myself and headed back to check in with Christopher one last time before leaving.

The room was quieter now. Lucy sat where she’d been. Penny was beside her, still and subdued.

Two beds had been moved in, it had taken some doing and a conversation with Mark that I wouldn’t describe as simple, but he’d come through with chains sturdy enough to actually mean something. We had some others help to find them but it was fine.

Both women were secured to them, enough freedom to sleep and move but no real margin for anything else. It wasn’t comfortable. It wasn’t meant to be cruel either. It was just the reality of the situation.

"Tomorrow we take you back," I said to Lucy. "That’s what you wanted."

"Yes," she said. Just the one word, but she meant it.

I looked at Penny. She was already watching me, her expression quiet and resigned.

"I know it’s not easy," I said to her. "But we can’t let you go until Gaspar’s dealt with. You understand why. Once he’s gone, you’re free. I’m not keeping you past that."

She didn’t say anything but she gave a small, tired nod. That was enough for now.

Mark’s chains were solid. They weren’t going anywhere tonight.

"I’ll be back tomorrow morning," I told Christopher. "And then we all go together to the hotel. I want to reach out to Marlon tonight, see if he can spare a few people to have nearby just in case things go sideways."

"Smart," he said, nodding once. "We’ll be ready."

He didn’t make a whole thing of it, which was very Christopher. He just meant it and left it at that.

I took one last look around the room, Lucy, Penny, the low light, Christopher settled back in his chair like he’d already accepted this was how he was spending his night and then I stepped out into the hallway.

Rachel and Sydney were both there, leaning against the wall just outside the door. Waiting.

"Leaving already?" Sydney asked sighing.

"Cindy and Daisy have probably convinced themselves I’m dead by now," I said. "I need to get back to them."

"They’re fine," Sydney said, crossing her arms. "Probably."

"Sydney," Rachel said quietly.

"I’m just saying—"

"It’s fine," Rachel said, and she looked at me and smiled. "Tomorrow we get Mei back."

"Yeah," I said, and I smiled back. "We are."