118.

  "Alex, Alex, wake up! Are you in there?"

  I opened my eyes blearily, someone was banging on my front door. I groaned and sat up, the muscles in my neck feeling tight. My body ached from last night's battle. Even worse, I could still smell gunpowder. I looked down and realized I'd fallen asleep fully geared up.

  "Alex, it's me. Are you in there?"

  I blinked heavily and realised that it was Marilyn at the door.

  "Shit," I cursed and leapt to my feet, yanking off my bloody hoodie, trousers, and boots, before throwing them all into the corner.

  Panicking, I hopped around in just my boxer shorts trying to find something else to put on. Eventually, I managed to scramble and get on some joggers and a T-shirt before running out of my room, closing the door behind me, and then unlocking the front door. Only as I began to unlock it did I realize how insane the flat must look with all the weird carvings and etchings. Hastily, I turned off the hallway light and opened the door slowly, scratching my head and pretending I was still half-asleep.

  "Marilyn," I croaked.

  "Alex, where have you been?" Marilyn asked me. Her cheeks were slightly pink, and she was a little out of breath.

  "Oh, nothing. I've just been a bit under the weather," I said, scratching my head. "Sorry, I was asleep.”

  "At this time?" Marilyn said, rolling her eyes. "Are you gonna let me in?" she asked. "I brought lunch." I looked down at the bags in her hand and murmured something before slowly opening the door. She walked in and looked around at the dark hallway.

  "Worried about the electricity bill?" she asked, half-laughing.

  "Aren't we all?" I replied, scratching the back of my head and quickly leading her into the living room. Fortunately, I hadn't done anything too weird in here; there were just a few carvings on the architrave of the door, which I hoped she wouldn't notice. I opened the blinds to see that the sun was already on its way down. Marilyn must have just got off work.

  "We had some leftover bakery rolls and stuff at the café," Marilyn said, opening up the shopping bag she was holding and pulling out paper bags full of slightly stale pastries and rolls. "I hadn't seen you in a few days, you know, since the mugging, and I thought I'd just check in and make sure you're alright.”

  "Oh yeah," I said, "I'd forgotten all about that.”

  "You have?" Marilyn said, looking up at me.

  "Well, you know... no point thinking about it, is there?" I mumbled.

  "Exactly," Marilyn said. "But you haven't heard, have you?"

  "Heard what?" I asked.

  "He's back," Marilyn said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper and her eyes lighting up.

  "Who?" I said.

  "The Gutter Mage," Marilyn exclaimed. "It's all over the estate with all these shootings and idiots running around doing drive-bys and stuff. Apparently, he's come back."

  "Oh really?" I replied.

  "Yeah, there was a big shooting at the Allwell estate last night. Like three or four people dead. There was a drive-by not far from there. It was crazy, and apparently, there was some big fight. Everybody's saying that the Gutter Mage was involved and he took out these goons."

  "He wouldn't do that," I said too quickly. "I mean, he wouldn't kill people, would he?"

  "No, I don't think so," Marilyn said as she sat down and broke open a jam donut. "I don't think he's the type of person to kill people. At least, I hope he's not."

  I sat down, my hunger overcoming the fear of being caught, and began to wolf down a cheese roll.

  "How come you haven't been coming to the shelter?" Marilyn asked me.

  "I have been," I said through a mouthful of roll, "just not that much, you know? I haven't been feeling too good."

  "Yeah, there's a bug going around at the minute," Marilyn said absentmindedly. "You know, I'm so glad he's back," she continued. "After those thugs jumped us, I was really worried the estate was gonna go back to the way it had been, you know? But with the Gutter Mage back, we're all safe and sound, right?"

  I swallowed and nodded.

  "Yeah, these goons won't be coming back to Mulberry, hopefully." My stomach churned as I thought about the bloodbath from last night, and it wasn't the first time I wondered whether the return of the Gutter Mage was such a good thing or not. But in Marilyn's eyes, he was a real hero. I don't know how that made me feel. What would she say if she knew the reality of the things the Gutter Mage had done?

  I shoved another mouthful of stale roll into my mouth to stave off any more awkward conversation.

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  "I mean, where are these thugs even getting machine guns and stuff from?" Marilyn asked. "It was all over the news report. Old Mary Perkins from down at the bakers, she lives not too far from there, she said that it was like a drive-by shooting or something. They just pulled up and blasted the whole place, killed two of those lads from Beth Street, apparently. My auntie knew one of them. He was a good lad, apparently.

  I couldn’t stop the images of the two slain Beth Street boys covered in blood, laid out on the street.

  "Yeah, it's crazy," I mumbled

  "It's all anybody's been able to talk about all day," Marilyn said. "Eeveryone that's come into the cafe, all they've been talking about is shootings and criminals and the Gutter Mage. You know, it's almost like a celebrity's come back into town. Everyone's really excited.”

  "Really?" I said.

  "Yeah, he's a hero, you know. He protects us, I guess. Who do you think he is?" Marilyn asked, dropping her voice and leaning across the table conspiratorially. "I mean, do you reckon it's someone from the estate?”

  I almost choked on the cheese roll I was trying to swallow. I shrugged awkwardly.

  "I don't know," I said.

  "I mean, why else would anybody be protecting the Mulberry? You would have to be one of us, right?” Marilyn said.

  "I guess," I said. "I mean, I've seen videos of him. He looks pretty tall.”

  "I don't know. I feel like he's young, you know," Marilyn mused.

  "You do?" I said.

  "Yeah, but at the same time, who's to say it's a 'he'? It could be a 'she'. It could be me," Marilyn said, her eyes lighting up as she grinned at me.

  I gave a half-hearted laugh.

  "Well, if it was, I'd be pretty upset you let me get headbutted," I said, and Marilyn burst out laughing.

  "Oh man, if I was the Gutter Mage, I would definitely tell you, Alex. Don't worry," she said. "Hell, you could even be my sidekick.”

  "Sidekick?"

  "Yeah, you could be Gutter Boy!" And then she burst out laughing again, and even I chuckled a little at the idea. "We could be like Batman and Robin, Gutter Mage and Gutter Boy, fighting crime on the Mulberry Estate, one goon at a time," Marilyn laughed.

  Just then, I heard the chime of a WristPod. Marilyn instinctively looked at hers, but it wasn't hers.

  "Is that yours?" she said.

  "Must be," I replied, but I didn't remember leaving my WristPod on loud. Then it chimed again and again.

  Marilyn cocked an eyebrow at me.

  "Someone really wants to get a hold of you," she said. "You haven't got a secret girlfriend, do you, Alex?”

  I gave a nervous laugh but didn't respond. The WristPod kept going off, so I quickly shuffled back to my room, closed the door behind me, and searched around for the damn thing. I found it eventually under a pile of clothes, chiming away. I picked it up, tapped the hologram screen, and saw that I had messages from a number I didn't recognize. In fact, it looked like it wasn't even a real number; it had too many digits and started with the wrong ones. I pulled a face and opened the message.

  "I guess the billboards were a little bit much," the first message read, and suddenly my blood ran cold. "I didn't mean to spook you," the next message said, "but I needed to get your attention. The Syndicate is still active, Gutter Mage, and they're gunning for you. They're trying to start a war on your estate and I know where they are." My heart thudded in my chest, my mouth gone completely dry. This was my personal WristPod. Whoever was sending these messages knew that Alex was the Gutter Mage. My eyes widened, and sweat began to drip down my neck. Another message pinged up, "Would you like to know where they are?”

  My hand shook.

  "Alex," Marilyn called from the other room. "You alright?"

  "Yeah, it's just something about a job I was looking for," I shouted back, my voice thin and tight. I quickly ran out of the room, dropping the WristPod on my bed.

  "Marilyn, I've been asked to come to an interview," I said to her, my voice quivering. "I need to get ready quickly and go. Is it alright if we carry this on later?"

  Marilyn looked at me curiously.

  "Yeah, sure, Alex. What job is it?" she asked.

  "Oh, just a packing job," I mumbled. "I've got to get ready quickly though; they want me down there, like, soon.”

  "Okay, no problem. Everything alright?" she asked, and I just nodded my head quickly.

  "I'll leave this stuff here for you," Marilyn said, pointing at the food.

  "Yeah, sure, sure. Thanks, thanks," I said, not looking at her.

  Marilyn quickly packed herself up and walked through the dark hallway again to the door. I opened it quickly for her, and she just stood there for a second.

  "Well, good luck. Let me know how it goes," Marilyn said, and I nodded my head.

  "Yeah, sure, I will do. Thanks for coming by, Marilyn. Bye," and I all but pushed her out the door and slammed it shut behind her.

  I raced back to my room, grabbed the WristPod, and with twitching fingers wrote back, "Who is this?"

  "Don't worry who I am, just know that I'm not one of them," the response came back almost immediately. "I wanna see the Syndicate burn in flames as much as you do, and I know where they're keeping their stash house. Do you want to know?”

  "How did you find out who I was?" I replied, and there was nothing. I sent a ? and then another one, and then I got the same response again.

  "I know where the Syndicate stash house is. Do you want to know?"

  I licked my lips. "How do I know this isn't a setup?" I asked.

  "Because if I was the Syndicate and I knew who you were and where you lived, wouldn't I have killed you by now?" came the response.

  Well, I guess that made sense.

  "What do you know about the Syndicate?" I asked, and the reply was just an emoji of a little smiley face nodding his head.

  "I know much more than you do.”

  “You know what they've been doing?" I asked.

  "Selling guns to teenagers, inciting gang warfare on your estate, trying to draw you back out. Oh yeah, Gutter Mage, I know exactly what's going on, and you should be very careful about your next moves. But if you want to put a stop to the violence, then all you have to do is say yes.”

  I wiped my clammy hands on my trousers and then typed three letters: "Yes."

  Almost instantaneously, a file appeared for download. I clicked on it, and it was coordinates and an address for a warehouse on the North Woolwich docks. It wasn't too far from me.

  "This is where the stash house is?" I asked, and again I got the same nodding emoji.

  "Get there tonight, and you'll see more than you could have ever found on your own, Gutter Boy."

  And just as I was typing a response, the entire message thread disappeared as if it never existed. The only thing that remained was the address, and when I tried to press send on my message, I got an invalid number error. I stood there staring at my Wrist Pod.

  Someone knew who I was. I was in deep trouble