***This is my contribution to the Flash Fiction Challenge (setting: at the zoo), a short crime fiction bit to take me back to my roots for the day. No kid lit, but the main character Angela Stark is a supporting cast member in my upcoming MG debut. I wanted to give her a turn, and develop her story a little.
Find more stories at Patti Abbott's blog.***
Packing
Meet me @ the wolves.
9:30 a.m.
Just a text, after all this time. Not
even a phone call. Angela Stark wondered if he still looked the same, her big
brother Rupert. It had been ten years. People change in ten years. They get
fat, grow out their hair, get new jobs. Like she did—well, the job part anyway.
Rupe was
thinner, sitting there on the metal bench that faced the wolf habitat, but he
looked pretty much the same otherwise. Just a little more wiry and worn. “Angie.” He
nodded as a greeting. Tried a smile, but he winched in pain instead. “How are you?”
How are you, Rupe? was what she wanted
to ask, but there was no need. It was written all over his pale face: the
sweat, the jitteriness, the darting eyes. He was hurt. Shot, probably.
A little
girl popped out from behind him. She was about seven, her long hair tangled and
matted where she’d slept. Her pink coat was faded, probably a Goodwill buy after some other kid already sucked the goodness out of it. She
squinted. “Are you my aunt Angie?”
Well look
at that. Rupe went and had a kid. Stark didn't like kids much. She slid away on the bench, putting some inches between herself and the disaster that was Rupe's family.
He smiled
and rubbed the girl’s head. “Ruby, why don’t you go watch the wolves while me
and Aunt Angie talk, okay?”
Ruby
nodded. “Did you know that wolves aren’t that aggressive at all?” The girl
didn’t wait for an answer, but moved to the glass and pressed her hands against
it. Her giant purple backpack had a broken zipper, leaving a sweater sleeve
dangling like a flat, dead arm.
“I know, I
should have told you,” Rupe said as he got up. “About Ruby.” He winched, and
stepped closer.
She could smell the stale sweat,
the fear. And there was dried blood on his wrist. He’d washed his hands, but
forgot about the details. That was Rupe.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered.
“Ruby wasn’t there. Not like we used to be.” He sat down again, and this time,
he didn’t hide his pain.
When they were little, Rupe was
the one who got to go inside the bank with Dad. They would be ‘where the action
was’ (those were Rupe’s favorite words). Stark (before she was Stark and still Little
Angie) would sit in the car. Waiting. Listening, for sirens.
“I wouldn’t do that to Ruby.”
Rupe’s voice crackled.
Ruby still stood at the glass,
waiting for something to happen. There wasn’t a wolf in sight.
“Going to work?” Rupe pointed at
Stark’s shoes. They were black, rubber-soled, the kind you could run in, but would
still go with a suit. Agent shoes. “It’s okay,” he said. "I know they're waiting out there."
They both knew this could only
end one way now.
“Daddy, look!” Ruby turned and
smiled. “I think there’s a wolf coming.”
“That’s good, baby.” He wheezed.
“She needs glasses. Ruby. I forgot them when we packed.”
The girl turned and smiled. “Did
you know that—”
“Hush, Ruby!”
The smile on the girl’s face
disappeared like a speeding bullet. She turned back to the glass, and leaned
her hands and nose against it.
“Tammy didn’t make it.” Rupert exhaled the words, like they were the last air in his lungs.
“It all went bad, Ange, like that time in Barstow. Remember, with Dad?”
She remembered. Five gunshots. Back when she was Little Angie, waiting for them to come outside, and when they did, seeing
the dead body on the ground. The black soles on the security guard’s boots as
he lay dead on the floor, before the doors closed.
“We made it out this time, but
had to take out a guy. And Tammy got hit in the chest, didn’t make it fifteen
minutes.” Rupe sank in his seat. His breathing was heavy. Hit in the shoulder,
Stark guessed, possibly in the gut, too. “We drove all night. Ruby slept some
in the car.”
Stark saw the wolf now. It walked
down the wooded hill of its habitat with a slight swagger, an ease that came
with knowing you owned the place. Probably smelled the girl. Or Rupe’s blood.
“Well I’ll be,” Rupe said.
“There is a wolf.” He smiled and sat
up. Groaned, and clutched his side.
The wolf got close to the girl
now. It paced back and forth near the glass, teeth bearing. But the girl didn’t
flinch. She kept her nose and hands pressed to the glass.
“Ruby loves animals. She’ll blabber
your ear off with her gazillion animal facts.” Rupert reached under his coat.
Stark expected him to check his bandage, but instead, he pulled out a piece.
Her brother had been packing, and she hadn’t even noticed. This was why it was
better to keep your distance. Family messed with your mind. Turned you into
Little Angie again.
“You can take care of this, right?” he
whispered.
Stark tucked the gun in her
holster. It didn’t occur to her to bring a gun to the zoo, so she had room.
Rupe slid a folded piece of paper
across the bench. There was a smeared bloody print on it. “The take’s location,
for Ruby. Don’t let ‘em take it, okay? Keep quiet.”
The wolf lifted its head and started
howling like a siren. Right next to Ruby.
It startled Stark. She jumped up, and took the
girl by the hands, away from the glass. When she turned around, her brother was
gone. She could just make out his slumped back as he disappeared in the crowd. His
tired walk.
“He was calling his pack, Aunt
Angie,” Ruby said with a smile. "The other wolves will come now." They sat down on the bench, but the girl’s backpack
was too fat for her to lean back, so Stark took it off her. “Daddy says I need
to hush up.” She waited for Stark to say something.
Stark listened for the sirens
that she knew would come soon. But not yet. There was only the howl of the
wolf, calling his pack.
“Daddy says you don’t like it
when people talk.” The girl squinted. “I can be quiet.”
“No.” Stark held the broken
backpack. “Tell me more about the wolves.”
