The man held out his hand. "Ghost."
Serge clasped the guy's hand without letting go of Aubrey. "Blackjack."
"Trouble?"
"No more than usual." Serge crossed his arms over his chest, so that her hand was pinned against his chest. "I'm showing Aubrey around The Point."
"You're gonna get her dirty." Blackjack dug through a baggy of cigarette butts and put one in his mouth, then offered the bag to Serge.
"I'm good." Serge uncrossed his arms and pulled Aubrey closer. "Take care, man."
"You don't have to tell me." Blackjack pinched the filter of the cigarette. "Two got carted away earlier today. I'm not going to be next."
"Stabbing?" asked Serge.
Blackjack tossed the cigarette to the ground. "Fenny. That's all that's around here anymore. They're dropping like flies."
Aubrey watched the exchange with curiosity. Serge appeared at ease with Blackjack. Anyone observing the two men would not guess that one of them lived in a large house in an affluent neighborhood.
Serge led her deeper into the encampment. Before she could ask if Blackjack had been living there since Serge ran the streets, he let go of her, dashed several feet, and slammed a lanky kid against the concrete pillar. She gasped, stepping back from the violence.
A knife fell to the ground. Serge grabbed the boy by his shirt and tossed him to the side.
Picking up the weapon, Serge rubbed the blade on his jeans. "You have to be quicker than that or you're going to get killed."
The boy, no older than sixteen or seventeen years and already with the beginnings of a beard, grinned before reclaiming his weapon. "I'm getting faster. One day, I will be a legend, like you, Ghost."
"I made it halfway down the point before you even noticed me." Serge tipped the boy's chin, forcing the kid to look at him. "How is your mother?"
"Dead." The boy looked at the ground. "They took Sierra away. She's in foster care now."
"You a man yet?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Then, don't lose track of your sister. Be there for her when she turns eighteen."
The boy tilted his head and looked at Aubrey. "This your lady?"
"Yes."
The kid grinned. "She's pretty."
Aubrey smiled. Despite the hardships, he was still a boy.
"It's nice to meet you. I'm Aubrey," she said.
"Name's Gordy." He scuffed the heel of his sneaker against the ground. "I gotta get down to the precinct before the gate closes."
Serge watched Gordy run off. "Behind the police precinct, there's a water faucet. They take empty water bottles they find in the trash cans around the city and fill them with clean water."
She swallowed, knowing those bottles weren't clean. All kinds of germs and sickness would be on them.
Serge pulled Aubrey to him, turned her around, and wrapped his arms around her, so that her back was solid against the front of him. "This is where I lived from the time I was six years old until almost nineteen. This is my life."
"I can't even imagine," she whispered.
"Tell me what you see."
