The Last Handful of Clover - Book 3: The Stone in the Stream

3.01 Nightfall

The room reeked of beer, and she saw Keith was using the napkins on the wet sofa and doing his best to soak up where the bottle had drained onto the carpet.

"Jesus Christ, what happened here?" Howard asked, coming into the room behind them. "It smells like a brewery."

"I... I spilled my beer," Pil said, going back to the kitchen. She heard the water running, and Pil returned with a wet towel in his hands. He knelt silently next to Keith and swabbed at the wettest parts of the carpet. No word or glance passed between the two men as they worked, side by side.

The TV was on, although the sound was still too low to hear, and Michelle saw the city was continuing to descend into chaos. The picture was mostly just the talking heads now, as if they had lost most of their field cameras. But the scrolling chyron at the bottom of the screen seemed even more horrific without the accompanying pictures, and she read the words as Keith and Pil continued to scrub at the carpet.

More than thirty dead in YMCA slaughter.

Looting reported throughout the city.

Riots overwhelm police in Sugarhouse and downtown.

She was still staring mutely when Pil rose, carrying the wet towels and napkins to the kitchen. Keith sank into a dry spot on the couch, his head in his hands.

When Pil came back into the living room, Michelle grabbed his elbow and pulled him aside.

"You know, we have to do what Richard said," she whispered. "We have to get out of here."

Pil looked at her, and she thought she saw, finally, some spark returning to his eyes. "I know," he said. "We will. We'll go, I promise."

Instinctively, they both looked at Keith. He had been the reason they had stayed this long. Would he still refuse to go? Even after Richard had told him to?

Michelle crossed to Keith and sat next to him on the couch.

"Pea? Can you hear me?" she asked. And then when he didn't respond, she took his hand, which hung in hers as limp as the napkins he had used to wipe the couch. "Keith, can you look at me?"

Slowly, he turned his head and met her gaze. And after all that he had suffered, there was a clarity and purpose in his eyes that surprised her.

"You do know we have to go, right? It's what Richard asked us to do. We all have to get into the car and go. Right now."

Keith looked at her, and then at Pil, and then at Howard, who was watching them from the very spot in which Richard had died. "All of us?" Keith asked. But she knew it wasn't really a question.

"Yes, all of us. All four of us."

Pil shifted uncomfortably. "Michelle, I don't think that's a good idea. We don't know this guy," he said without actually looking at Howard. "And he's wanted for two murders. We don't know him, and we can't trust him."

Michelle couldn't help but shoot a glance at Howard, who didn't seem at all insulted by what Pil had said. There was a look of sadness in his eyes, but Michelle couldn't tell if it was anything more than what had been there since the first moment she saw him.

So they think of you as the leader, she thought. I guess it's time to lead.

"We're all going," she said, trying to sound as forceful and clear as she could muster. "We have to go, and we're taking Howard with us."

Pil stared at her for a moment, and when he spoke his voice had a much harder edge. "No, Michelle. I don't think Keith is safe around him. This... Justin... wants to hurt Keith, and he's used Howard at least twice to try and do that. What makes you think he won't use him again?"