Jennie - Wednesday Night

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A check-in



It was well after sunset, and the night sky shone with hundreds of stars, even brighter in the cold, clear air. Jennie had forgotten you could see the stars like this in New York. The stars got brighter as she trudged away from the mansion, the Autumn's refuse crunching under her boots. She walked for a while before she found it, a rickety wooden bridge somewhere near the edge of the property, well-removed from sight of the mansion, and from any curious eyes or ears. She checked her watch, and then slipped a device from her pocket.

It was a pay-as-you-go mobile phone, which she bought after borrowing a car to make a CVS run that morning for supplies, making sure to pay only cash. Taking the phone out, she slipped in the sim card and waited for it to activate, before thumbing a series of numbers, typing in the hack that would let her call overseas, while her breath steamed in the cold night air.

"Code Nemesis, eight-fourteen," Jennie said as the receiver clicked.

"Secure?" said the voice on the other end. Gravelly and smoke-worn, but always sounding paternal.

"Secure," Jennie said, looking around herself. The only thing for miles would be squirrels, raccoons and deer.

"Jennie!" Geroge Blakely breathed on the other end. He sounded relived. "My God, it'd been weeks, I was starting to worry--"

"He found me," Jennie said quickly.

There was a pause. "Oh my lord," Blakely said. "How badly did he hurt you?"

"Not too bad, all things considered," Jennie said wryly, waving her finger in the splint Jean had provided her. "He caught up with me in Prague."

There was another pause, followed by a curse. "That was too fast, how did he find you?"

"I don't know," said Jennie quietly. Prague she was supposed to pass through and not be seen. It unnerved her totally, how he had found her. How he had known exactly where she would be.

"You're safe now, yes?" said Blakely.

"Yes, of a sort. I'm... not quite where I'm supposed to be," Jennie said. "He got me good, Blakely, I don't think I would have seen the end of this month if they caught up with me again."

Blakely blew out a sigh on the other end of the line. "If that's what you feel, I stand by it."

"--And anyway, Nigel is with James, and I haven't the first fucking clue where they are, so hopefully things will be all right," there was a sour taste in her mouth as she said this.

"You going to lay low for a while?" said Blakely.

"That's the plan," Jennie said, looking above herself. The stars shone brightly in the frigid night air. "How's Danni?"

"Oh, you know. Quiet. Sad. Misses you, misses them. Keeps asking me when she can go home."

Jennie blinked, and then wiped her eyes. Must not let him know you feel like crying, she admonished herself. Must seem like you are in control of this, even though she felt like screaming over and over that she did not understand any of this.

"Yeah, I know. Tell her as soon as I get things sorted I'll come for her, all right?"

"She knows, she's a strong girl Jennie," Blakely said. "She has complete faith in you."

At least one of us does. Jennie thought wryly.

"Thank you Blakely, for looking after her. And for... you know..."

"It's no trouble," Blakely said quickly. "I would have done anything for John, and I'll do anything I can to help you," there was another pause, and he cleared his throat. "I know, I know you want to stay off radar but I've come across something troubling."

"Oh?" Jennie said, feeling a knot in her stomach.

"You know those people of yours, the ones you were with before you came to England?"

Jennie swallowed audibly. "What about them?"

"She knows about them."

Jennie squeezed her eyes shut, suddenly dizzy. She gripped the railing of the bridge, feeling the rough wood bite into her palm, grounding her in the here and now. "How?" she managed.

"Don't know, exactly. But my little birdies are bringing me information, and it does not look good."

Jennie felt like she would be sick, right them and then. "How does she know?" she repeated. "I never told them anything about my old people, not a single fucking word," her hands were shaking. "The only person who knew was John and he's dead." Jennie swallowed the lump of bile in her throat. "Could they have... could they have tortur--"

"--No," said Blakely emphatically. "John would never crack. No matter what. This is all new, too, she's just found out about them. I think... I think your friends might have themselves a mole."

"A mole? But-but there's no way--"

"Think, someone got inside your place. How else did they know how to find you? She's got herself spies everywhere now. Money talks. And when it isn't loud enough... well, when people know something's coming, they pick the side they think will win."

Jennie knelt and pressed her head against the railing of the bridge. It was something she'd thought about, in snippets and snatches in all of her running. How could they have found us? Probably the same way they'd found her predecessors. Someone from the inside, high up. It's why John had cut them lose, but still they had been found. "But why them?"

"I think she's gotten a taste of mutants, and I think she likes them. Think about it, all those bright souls wanting a better tomorrow. And all of them so very dangerous and deadly. How tempting that would be."

Jennie was not going to throw up. "Who's the mole?" she spat.

"I don't know, girl. If I knew I would tell you. My advice? If you don't want this to get worse you find your old people and you bury yourself in them. Don't let them know anything, nothing about the House or John or what you've been doing. Because if your mole finds out who you are you won't be able to save your people or yourself. Find them before they find you. Because otherwise..."

Jennie didn't want to think about otherwise. Again the image of those eyes rose up in her head, pupils exploding with jagged black lines and irises the color of old milk underneath.

"I will," she said quietly.

"Good girl," said Blakely. "John always knew he had something special in you, you know that right?"

"Yeah," Jennie said, mouth feeling like sandpaper.

"Time to go," Blakely said. "Cycle 434 next time, right?"

"Right," said Jennie. "Give Danni my love?"

"I will, always," said Blakely. "Now go. Find your people."

"I will," Jennie said. And thumbed the off button. She looked at the phone in her hand, mouth dry. Then she squeezed it with crimson fingers and the cheap plastic shattered in her fingers. She withdrew the sim card and smashed it under her boot heel, before flinging the remnants into the woods as far away she could manage. Then she grabbed the railing of the wooden bridge, and looked up again, taking deep breaths to get herself under control. She wanted so very desperately to scream and not stop.

She knows about them. She has a mole, and she will find them and she will come for them too. Jennie looked over her shoulder at the direction of the mansion. The wind kicked up, and dead leaves rattled around her feet. This had been her home, they had taken a scared sixteen-year-old girl and given her a place to grow up. It had not always been safe, but what place was if you were a mutant? She thought of that new generation of kids running lose in there, who deserved this little space of safety, as precious and sparse as it may be. And what would happen if She were to find it.

Jennie's hands tightened on the railing, knuckles white. "Over my dead body," she whispered.