Armageddon's Children - Terry Brooks [124]
Hawk nodded. He broke down the formation and put them in a line, Panther and himself in the lead, Bear in the rear, the others in the center. They walked against the walls of the buildings on their right until they had reached the end of the last one before they would have to enter the intersection. Motioning for the others to stay where they were, Hawk peered carefully around the corner at the buildings across the street. The second one in was a huge old redbrick structure with its windows and entry boarded up. There was no sign of life.
“How do they get in and out?” he asked Panther.
The other boy threw up his hands in exasperation. “What do you want from me? I found them; I didn’t go in for a visit.” He shook his head in disgust. “I saw a couple of them looking out from the windows, up on the higher floors, keeping watch. They thought no one would see them, I suppose. Frickin’ idiots.”
Hawk studied the building for a long time, thinking about what he should do but unable to come up with anything particularly good. He looked back at the others. “Wait here.”
He stepped out from behind his hiding place and walked to the edge of the street where he could be clearly seen. “Tiger!” he called out. “Come down and talk to me! I have the medicine for Persia!”
He was taking a big chance. Street kids were very protective of their hiding places, aware that secrecy was their best defense against the many things that could hurt them, not the least of which were other street kids. The tribes had protection in numbers, but the dangers were the same. None of the tribes ever revealed to the others exactly where they were living. Some of the other denizens of their neighborhoods—Lizards, Spiders, and such—knew of their presence, but left them alone, for the most part. It was only the Croaks that were predatory enough to come hunting you while you slept.
Hawk waited for a response, but none came. He tried again. “Tiger, I have the pleneten! You didn’t show for our meeting, so I brought it! Come down and get it!”
Still nothing. He waited several minutes, searching for any sort of sign at all. Time was slipping away. The afternoon shadows were lengthening and the light was fading. He did not want to be up here so far away from home when it got dark.
He considered his options, then called the rest of the Ghosts out of hiding and brought them all into the center of the street. Splitting them into two groups, with Panther taking one and himself the other, they began working their way around the block, searching for an entrance. Fifteen minutes later, they were back, having failed to find one.
“Maybe through one of the other buildings?” Fixit suggested hopefully.
The buildings on either side were not as heavily boarded up as was the brick structure, and they gained entry easily into the one on the left. It yielded nothing; an alleyway separated the two buildings aboveground, and a blank wall closed off any possible access through the basement.
They moved to the one on the right. This one looked more promising: it shared a wall with the building they were trying to get into. It might have been a hotel at one time, its entrance more imposing than those of the buildings surrounding, its ground floor a broad stretch of mostly broken-out windows.
There was an eerie feel to the building, the fading light glinting off jagged pieces of broken glass and the darkness gathered inside so thick they could not see past it. They walked up to the entry, glancing at one another for reassurance, and stopped at the revolving doors when they refused to give. Panther moved to one of the side doors, reached through the broken window to release the catch, and slipped inside. The others followed.
They stood in the lobby, an imposing hall with a high ceiling and old furniture set about its broad open space in carefully arranged clusters. The stuffing was coming out of most of it, the leather and fabric cracked