Dead Boys Read Free Page A

the little one isn’t your only charge,” Jacob ventured. “That boy you’ve adopted is cheerful enough, even if he suffers from a surplus of enthusiasm.”
    “Please,” said Ma Kicks, both hands on her back. “I had enough to deal with before he came. Another loudmouth in the cave? No thank you.” She hobbled into her chamber and sat heavily on the floor, moaning as if the motion caused her pain. “You got a way with him, Patches. First time he’s been quietly occupied since his mortis. Sit.” She parted her shawl like a curtain and gently dipped her hands into her belly, resting her baby’s feet against their palms as she let out a long, rattling sigh. “Now. Something about the Tunnels, was it? Let’s get this over with.”
    “Gladly,” said Jacob, settling in as best he could in those cramped quarters. “I’m tremendously excited to have the opportunity to speak to you about this matter at last. I can’t tell you how long the path was that led to your door! But after a diligent search, I found an old acquaintance of yours who let me in on a little secret. Ah, but where are my manners? You should have your tribute.”
    He pulled a package wrapped in brown paper from the depths of his knapsack and handed it over, bowing his head. Ma Kicks tore it open without ceremony. It was an unblemished picture-book he’d come by at great expense, with an illustration of a girl crawling into a mirror embossed on its cover. She held it briefly in front of her stomach, muttering, “Book,” then tossed it into a splintered trunk. The gift elicited a series of kicks from within her womb, which Jacob hoped were demonstrative of excitement, not annoyance.
    “In any case,” he continued, “I rather doubt anyone else has made this connection. Tell me, Clarissa—”
    “Call me Ma.” Her body had fallen still again, her voice fallen back to a whisper.
    “As you wish. Ma, is it true that you once knew that adventurer known to Dead City as the Living Man?”
    No answer came. She didn’t budge, but her child began to twitch—unless Jacob’s eyes were deceiving him, almost rhythmically.
    “Most would call his story a folktale,” Jacob said. “But I believe—I know better. And my source has told me that you have first-hand experience.”
    “Ain’t a topic I care to discuss,” she whispered.
    Her silence stung. Jacob felt like a fool for assuming that Ma Kicks would receive him with soft surprise, then joyfully help him when he told her of his intentions.
    No matter. She’d hear of his adventures with the Living Man one day. For now, he’d fib a bit. An oblique approach would serve him better than showing his hand. “What bothers me, you know, is how misunderstood he is in the culture of the city. To think that such a remarkable explorer could cheat the laws of life and death, only to end up the object of ridicule—why, it positively pains me.” Not a grunt from Ma Kicks. Jacob leaned forward. “Help me tell his story truly. Let’s set it to rights. Let us not allow that brave soul to remain a punchline.” The baby’s kicks seemed to be getting faster. Was that a good sign or a bad one? Jacob, at a loss and possessing no solid information, went out on a limb. “Let us tell the truth at last about—about what happened to him.”
    Her hand drifted toward a pile of blankets. “Who you been talking to?”
    “My informant would give no name. He said only that he knew you long ago. Beneath the city.”
    “Barnabas is a liar. Always was.”
    “I don’t know anyone by that—”
    “I got nothing to tell. I’m sorry. It’s time for you to go.”
    “Please,” said Jacob, clasping his palms. “I beg of you. Tell me where you saw him last. Is he still in the Tunnels?”
    “Don’t you drag me down into that muck.” With her free hand, she tugged her shawl over her belly, but the baby’s skeletal feet kicked it free. “I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to go down there again. Not even in