***
Over the course of the next few days, things get even more interesting. I only manage to play a couple of card games, because, for the most part, we're lying low. I'm not sure if this is because Matthew saw us, or because of the state of the Outpost in general. The beggars are worked into a frenzy of hopelessness, accosting people on the streets in places where there are no Sentries. A sense of desperation is taking hold, boding bad things to come. People are trying to save up what they can, but the exorbitant cost of food and basic supplies means that there's little left to spare. Everyone is broke. Almost everyone. Even at our card games, the pot is small. Some players have stopped coming all together.
There seems to be an increase in the number of people working for Matt, and every single one of them is well armed. Clearly, he's been recruiting. But why, exactly, is he building an army? The question makes me shudder.
Finally, during a game of cards, I hear something that begins to explain what's happening. Taylor and Jacob are now working for Matthew, so it's them that tell us about Outpost Two. Apparently, a conflict between Grey, the big boss of Outpost Two, and Matt has morphed into a larger mess. It started with the slave trade. No one really knows the full story behind it, but Matthew's people claim that Grey took offense at something that should have been easily smoothed over. Maybe he wanted to start this fight, they say. Grey has a reputation for being power hungry and greedy. He takes over anything he can. He thinks he owns everyone.
As I listen, I think about Matthew. Aren't they describing him? Does he really have a right to own the people he sells like animals? And why should we give him part of everything we earn? What does he do for us in return? I think all this, and I say nothing.
Jacob and Taylor continue to tell us about shipments being attacked on their way to the Outpost. These are goods that have been paid for, and they're being stolen right out of our hands. Matt is furious. He's trying to negotiate with Grey, but who knows how that will go. So, as a backup plan, he's recruiting. He needs people who can fight. Jacob's eyes flick to Apollon and Jonas, at the bar, but I don't think he's aware that he's done it. This sets me on edge, so much that I'm not even paying attention to my cards. When it's my turn to bet, I have to quickly scan my hand and make a first-instinct decision. I fold. My cards are terrible and there's nothing in the pot anyway.
The game disbands before it really gets going, players pulling out. I break even, technically, but I have to leave twenty percent for Matt. I walk away worse off than I was when I got here.
Apollon and Jonas don't say anything to me about it. Their jaws are clenched, their faces set. I feel that I've disappointed them— disappointed all of us. But we walk quietly out of the Rustler, no words exchanged. The heaviness of the moment immerses me. What will we do, I'm thinking. We can't go on like this. Pressure and panic rise in my chest. I want to run. Apollon's hand touches my shoulder, patting gently. I glance back at him, expecting a sympathetic look, but instead, his face goes deadly still. His fingers jerk away from my back. He's not looking at me.
"Stay here, Eden," Jonas mumbles through clenched teeth. He's wearing the same expression. I follow their gaze across the street to two men I've never seen before.
I open my mouth to protest, but Apollon and Jonas are already striding across the street, leaving me behind. They don't go directly to the men, but to the alleyway. A moment later, the men wander in their direction. I stand there and watch them disappear into the alley, and decide I don't like them. They have a hardened appearance. A thuggish gait.
I give them two minutes, and I cross the street, ignoring my orders. There's no way I'm leaving my friends without backup. But by the time I get to the mouth of the alleyway, Apollon and Jonas are coming back out.
Apollon looks annoyed when he sees me. Jonas gives me the darkest of looks.
"I told you to stay there," he says, as I fall in with them, heading toward home.
I shrug, and glance at Apollon. "What was that about?" I ask, when we turn onto a street with less people.
"Nothing," Jonas answers.
I study Apollon.
His eyes scan over my face, then he looks away. After a while, he redirects us into an alley. Someone flees the other end as though we've caught him out at something. We walk deep into the alleyway and Apollon kicks over a pile of rags, checking it for an occupant. He glances up and down the passageway.
All the while, Jonas is scowling. "Drag her into it, too," he mutters. "Good idea, Apollon."
Apollon gives him a look, sneers. "She should know," he says. "She has a right."
Jonas crosses his arms and leans back against the old brick wall. He looks like a cat that has been dunked in water and is plotting revenge.
"So, who were those guys?" I ask softly, hoping they'll forget about each other. The shadows of the alleyway are cold, making me wrap my arms about myself.
"You know what Jacob and Taylor were saying?" Apollon says. He looks away from Jonas and focuses on me. "Well, those are some of Grey's men. Presumably here for negotiations."
My eyes flick back and forth between my two companions, considering. Finally, I ask, "And what does that have to do with you?"
Again, Apollon looks at Jonas, and hesitates. He purses his lips thoughtfully, studying the ground. Then his eyes go clear, and he looks up at me. "We're Grey's men, too."