Jack to the Future: Chapter 7
Chapter 7
The Colossus of New York
The two rode the ferry and made it to the other side without incident. Once they arrived at the Manhattan shore, the men who had originally found them when they had first arrived in the past, stood along the path exiting the ferry.
“Howdy, boys,” the shorter of the two said.
“Wait a second,” Wade said with a frown, “how in the world did the two of you get here before us? We had a car!”
“Well, yeah,” Jack agreed, “but you did take us all over New Jersey before finding out how to get to Manhattan.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense.”
“The boss has been waiting for you,” the taller man joined in. “He ain’t too happy with how long he’s been left in wait.”
“Well, tell the boss we’re sorry,” Wade said scornfully, “but there ain’t any road signs around here for me to make heads or tails of and I just happen to have gotten us a little bit lost.”
“You can tell him yourself. Follow us,” the taller man said, gesturing for Jack and Wade to join him as he walked away.
“So, where are we headed to?” Wade asked. “Some cool old speakeasy or something?”
“This is the 1850s,” Jack rebuked, “Not the 1920s.”
“Yeah, so?”
“The boss should be just about near Florence’s right now. He had hoped you two would have been here in time to be of assistance, but said he couldn’t wait any longer,” the shorter man replied.
“To be of assistance for what?” Jack asked, a twinge of concern in his voice.
“No matter now,” the taller man answered. “I’m certain he will have further use of you.”
“So, I’m sorry,” Wade changed the subject, “but I don’t think I ever caught either of your names.”
“Good,” the shorter man answered shortly.
Wade shot Jack a look. Jack shrugged his shoulders and looked around him. He and Wade had spent plenty of time on the island of Manhattan over the years and although this place looked nothing like the place he had come to know and loathe, it still felt, undeniably, like New York City.
The air smelled of that same pungent vinegar smell of old trash which fills your nostrils and mouth. Hiding somewhere under that was the scent of fresh bread and horse waste. This was a smell Jack had inextricably linked to the city. He wasn’t sure whether he was happy or sad to know time had also linked the two.
The streets were busy with people going about their day, rarely looking up from a newspaper or their feet to say hello. And the buildings, although quite shorter than they were in Jack’s time, still felt like towering behemoths above them.
The scope of the city still felt exactly as it did when Jack would explore it in his own time, impossibly, undeniably, eternally, infinitesimally, never-ending.
After nearly a half hour of walking deeper into the city, a pair of large men came running in their direction. The two men who had been escorting Jack and Wade stopped in their tracks, their attention entirely focused on the men barreling toward their location.
One of the two, a man with a handlebar mustache, stopped and grabbed Wade by the shoulders.
“You’re here!” the man said, blood dripping from his knuckles onto Wade’s t-shirt. “You’re actually, finally here!” He turned his attention to the escorts. “Good work, Baker, Turner,” he said, nodding at each of them as their names were spoken. “You may want to scatter. Things are bound to get rather wild around here shortly.”
Turner and Baker both waited no time before running off and disappearing into the crowd.
“As for you two, we have a lot to talk about!”
“But we’re supposed to be finding a man who calls himself The Butcher,” Jack disagreed. “He seemed quite eager to find us.”
The man grabbed onto the fabric of Jack’s shirt above his shoulder and pulled him close. A deep devilish grin crossed his face as he glared into Jack’s eyes. Jack didn’t dare breathe as this giant of a man held onto him. He noticed the man wasn’t breathing either, which, considering how he had been running at full speed only a second prior, felt impossible to Jack.
“I,” he said, inhaling deeply, “am The Butcher. And you’re coming with me.”
