Page 25 of Ruthless Riches
6
Nate
Brian directed us uptown,across several major thoroughfares and past the main business district until we reached Tenth Avenue. At the end of Tenth, the city’s old bus depot stood between a series of dilapidated old buildings.
From a distance, the opulent Beaux-Arts design of the main building made it look like Grand Central Terminal in NYC, but up close the cracks in the façade were clear. Avalon’s public transport services operated from a newer building on Sixth Avenue nowadays, and this part of town had been left to deteriorate until City Hall finally decided what to do with the area. Last I heard, they were planning to sell the land to condo developers.
Until then, the old buildings were the domain of the island’s homeless. Brian told us that lots of them congregated there in the colder months to keep warm. Some used the old Avalon tunnels that could be accessed from nearby, while others stayed above ground in the buildings.
“Hang back a bit when we get inside,” he told us when we reached the top of the steps that led into the main building. “But don’t go too far.”
I took Alexis’s hand and held it tightly, putting my body slightly ahead of hers in a protective stance as we stepped inside.
The roof was domed twenty feet above our heads, like a cathedral, and the space beneath was dim and smelled of mildew. Most of the windows along the edge were so thick with years of grime that they blocked out the afternoon light, but in some spots, a small amount managed to seep through the cracks, casting narrow white beams through the dusty air.
Rainwater dripped steadily from a series of gaps in the roof somewhere up ahead, collecting in little rivulets on the dusty floor. Someone had placed a bucket under one of the gaps to save some of it, presumably for drinking or washing.
As my eyes grew accustomed to the dark space, shapes started to appear up ahead. I realized they were people, standing in groups or sitting on their own. Most of them ignored us as we stepped past them, heading deeper into the bowels of the old building, but some cast wary glances at us.
I felt like an alien on a new planet as we walked past them. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to have my home taken away and end up stuck in a cold, dank place like this to escape the winter chill, night after night. The people here didn’t have to imagine it, though—they were living it every day, just trying to survive.
We took a sharp left into an even darker part of the building, where more people were gathered. Some had started a fire in an old barrel, and they were huddled around it, chatting to each other in low voices.
Brian stepped up to the fire. “Any of you seen Henrik today?” he asked.
I couldn’t hear the response, but I saw one of the men point behind him. Brian looked over his shoulder and nodded. Then he gestured for Alexis and me to follow him.
He led us farther down the passageway, toward another group of men who were gathered around another fire. “Henrik,” he called out, aiming his gaze at a tall man with fair hair. Judging by everyone’s body language, he was the leader of this little group.
The man broke off from the others and took a few steps forward. “Oh, it’s you,” he said, eyes flashing with recognition as he stared down at Brian. Then he cast his gaze toward Alexis and me.
Brian spoke up again. “This is—”
“Alexis Livingston and Nate Lockwood,” Henrik said, upper lip curling with disdain.
“You know them?” Brian asked, looking confused.
“No. I’ve seen them in the papers before. Spoiled rich assholes. Especially you,” Henrik replied, staring straight at me. He cocked his head. “Bet that surprises you, huh? That someone like me reads the papers?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Sure.” He scoffed and took a step closer. “So what made you decide to step off your throne and join us down here?”
I lifted a palm. “We’re not here to cause any trouble. We just have some questions.”
“They’ve been asking for information about the tunnels,” Brian added. “I know you know a thing or two about them, so I thought you could talk to them.”
Henrik cast his surly gaze over me again. Then he snorted. “I’m not telling an arrogant prick like you jack-shit,” he said. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“Hey, hold on,” Brian said. “Give them a chance. They’re good people.”
“Oh yeah? How the hell do you know that?”
Brian jerked a thumb toward Alexis. “On our way here, she told me that Nate just made a donation to the shelter over on Fourth. A big one.”
“A big donation, huh?” Henrik’s eyes crinkled at the corners with cynical amusement. “How much?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said.
