It has begun.

  Yes. It has.

  It is too soon. He is not ready.

  Have we any choice? They will come for him, no doubt.

  But he is still just a boy. He knows nothing of the art of war.

  So was his father when the call was sounded, yet he answered all the same. We must trust that his son is just as noble.

  .......................................................................................................................................................

  Jacob knew they were watching him. It was actually infinitely worse than before, and Jacob knew how it looked. His uncle's promised hour had stretched to over two, and his breakfast had long since gotten cold. Jacob tried to ignore the looks, especially from the very impatient-looking diner owner who was wondering where his money was. Jacob gulped hard and tried to focus on his eggs, but he had done little more than stir them round and round in his now soggy pancakes. Indeed, he had lost his appetite, and at this rate, he wondered if he would ever feel hungry again.

  "This seat taken?"

  Jacob nearly jumped out of his skin. Sitting before him was a middle-aged, raven-haired woman with a bun, dressed in a sports jacket. Jacob hadn't put much thought into the fairer sex, but even he had to admit she was a rather stunning lady. Her unique violet eyes were almost hypnotic, drawing him in like a cat's gaze, and her perfume was an inviting scent that put his mind at ease and calmed his senses. This was the kind of woman who could easily get what she wanted. The only question was what she wanted with him.

  "I believe that seat is taken, miss," he said, trying to be calm. "Is there something I can help you with?"

  "You seem to be the one in trouble, young man," the lady said as the waitress set a coffee cup before her. "Don't worry about the bill; I covered it for you. Though several callers were concerned that you were here all alone."

  Jacob immediately jumped to his feet and would likely have been halfway to Albuquerque by now if the young lady hadn't caught his sleeve.

  "Whoa! Hold up there, Bugs Bunny. Let's not lose our heads now."

  "Let me go!" Jacob wailed in panic. "It's not what you think, I swear! He didn't abandon me! He's coming right back, you'll see! Now please let me go!"

  "Settle down before you break my arm, kid." the woman grunted as she wrangled him back into his seat. "We're not going anywhere you don't want to go. If you want to stay right here, then here is where we stay. All I'm here to do is talk. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy."

  Jacob looked like a deer in the headlights, his fingernails digging into the enamel of the table as his teeth ground powder onto his tongue. The lady could only shake her head as she propped it on her palm.

  "Stiffer than the stiffs I've brought in. A lot cuter than them, at least."

  Jacob gulped down a harsh lump.

  "So, you're a cop," he asked.

  "Detective, actually," the lady said. "Detective Deborah Sackett, at your service. May I know your name now, or do I need to call you Jitters?"

  "It's...Jacob." the young man squeaked.

  "Jacob...?" the detective pressed.

  "Just Jacob." the boy replied. "Uncle Laramie never really told me our family name. I think it's because of my dad, not that he's ever told me."

  "Uh-huh." Deborah mused, quietly tucking away this information. "Family trouble, eh? Wish I saw less of that, and I don't mean in just my line of work."

  "Oh no! It's no trouble at all," Jacob insisted. "I mean, sure, it's not exactly the nuclear family model, but my uncle and I get by. He's actually a brilliant scientist, it's just that his ideas are kinda...well..."

  "Cracked?" Deborah offered.

  "I was going to say unorthodox, but whatever floats your boat. He's incredibly smart, though, and he's been homeschooling me since I was really young. Go ahead and quiz me—ask me any math problem, from simple addition to algebraic equations. Try me."

  Deborah adopted a catty stare, and she leaned forward.

  "Why not? Sixty-four times thirty-seven."

  Jacob smirked. "Two thousand, three hundred and sixty-eight. Try again."

  "Okay, let's see. Forty-two minus twelve plus four divided by three."

  "Thirty-one point three, three, three, repeating, of course. Come on, give me something hard."

  A Cheshire grin parted the detective's lips. The kid was a living calculator, and snarky to boot. She respected that, as did the other patrons who had gathered to watch the display.

  "Oi! Wallstreet Wally!"

  A rather poshly dressed young man stepped forward, armed with a briefcase and many office supplies.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  "Keep track for me. This one is gonna be big."

  She then popped her knuckles and rolled her shoulders.

  "Okay, smart guy, answer this one and you'll get the biggest piece of Maud's world-famous apple pie with a dollop of vanilla on top."

  "I'm lactose intolerant, but bring it on, detective."

  "Alright, smart mouth, here you go. The square root of sixty-four times seventeen minus ten divided by two plus thirteen times nineteen to the twelfth power."

  A collective gasp echoed through the crowd, one man even collapsing in a faint. Deborah crossed her arms in expectant triumph and leaned back in her chair.

  "Well, well, Pythagoras, what do you have to say about..."

  "Eighty-seven quadrillion, four hundred trillion."

  Deborah's voice hung in the air until she had to cough hard to catch her breath. She stared at him for a long moment, then turned to Wally. He had just finished calculating the numbers and was equally gobsmacked. He looked up at her and nodded very slowly.

  "Huh," Deborah said, unable to find anything else to say. "Maud?"

  "Already cutting it and putting it on your bill, Debbie."

  Jacob had the smuggest expression imaginable on his face; a perfect representation of self-congratulations as the elderly Maud brought over the plate of piping hot pie. A boisterous cheer erupted from the diner patrons, several even patting Jacob's back and offering words of praise before a flash of Deborah's badge caused them to back away and disperse. Once things settled again, Deborah offered her own congratulatory looks.

  "Gotta say, kid, I'm impressed, which I like to think is an accomplishment in and of itself. Guess your uncle is a pretty good teacher."

  "He's the best," Jacob assured her. "He taught me everything I know, minus his own clumsiness, of course. Man can walk two feet without making something fall to pieces."

  He looked at the clock on the wall again, and he frowned.

  "I really should head back to the apartment. If he lost his wallet, he's only going to end up hurting himself again like when he lost the TV remote last week. He still has stitches he can pop."

  Deborah winced at the thought, and she whistled to Maud, motioning for a box.

  "You know the address to your apartment?" she asked.

  "I think I already established I'm good with numbers," Jacob replied dryly.

  "Then I'll give you a ride. I have a few words for him, but it shouldn't have to go beyond that."

  Jacob looked at her with uncertainty, to which she responded with a warm smile.

  "Only to your apartment, I promise. This isn't my first rodeo, kid."

  Jacob sighed, not liking it but having no other alternative. After his pie was boxed up, the two made their way outside where an old Oldsmobile was parked on the sidewalk. To Deborah's annoyance, she spied a parking ticket on her windshield, and she spied the offending officer making a beeline up the street.

  "I know that's you, Harry!" she snapped. "The meter still has three minutes! I'll have you working administrative until your grandchildren are senile!"

  She shook her head angrily before pocketing the ticket and opening the door for Jacob. The teen slipped inside as Deborah moved around and got into the driver's seat. The engine jugged a couple of times before finally starting and starting down the road. By now, the local traffic had started to congest itself on both sides of the trolley line, making what should have been a short trip a long slog. Once more, Jacob became tense as well as completely mum. He barely breathed let alone spoke, making the overall atmosphere of the vehicle rather tense. Deborah whistled a little tune as she absently fiddled with the radio, though all of the stations were miraculously bugged, so instead she decided to break the ice.

  "Did you know our town is a giant slice of pizza?"

  Jacob glanced at her, his brow jumping in surprise.

  "Eh, what?" he asked. "Be serious."

  "Oh, I'd never joke about my hometown," Deborah laughed as she stopped at the light. "Look ahead, as far as your eyes can see."

  She pointed a finger, and Jacob strained his eyes in a squint. He could barely make out the bones of a long ruined metallic structure at the very tip of the where the city kissed the sea.

  "The old Ferris wheel, right?" Jacob said. "What about it?"

  "My folks used to run it when I was a little girl," Deborah explained. "Back when we used to have a working boardwalk until the fire that destroyed it. Mom and Pop used to let us ride it for free all the time, and it's how I got over my fear of heights. Peter, my older brother, would always ride with me all the way to the top, and we'd sit there for several minutes. Used to make my belly drop, but having my brother there made it tolerable and even a little fun. But the cream of the moment rose when I was just looking out to the city. It was like being on top of the world, seeing everything and anything all at once."

  "What does that have to do with pizza?" Jacob asked.

  "Something my brother used to say," Deborah explained. "You start at the tip, where the boardwalk used to be. It's the most inviting part, that first bite that welcomes you to the flavor of the town. Then you get to the middle where the cheese, the sauce, and the toppings all come together as this madcap hodgepodge that brings you to life. It's thanks to the many shops, gyms, and various other locally owned places that Midtown is called the slice of character for all of Grummsdale. Finally, there's the end, which people typically ignore if it isn't stuffed."

  She scoffed.

  "Course, these days, I'd say it's too stuffed. That's where the bulk of the new casinos and pleasure palaces can be found these days, and its popularity has only grown since the boardwalk burned down. The mayor wants us to become a bargain bin Las Vegas, no matter what kind of criminal element such dens of sin attract, and because of that next to no funding goes into the tip, letting it fall into decay."

  She let out a long sigh and shook her head.

  "You out-of-towners really don't get what this city used to be like. It wasn't just a different time, it was a completely different world, and I'm worried it's only going to get worse."

  Jacob shot her a funny look, and it seemed enough to snap her out of her funk.

  "Oh dear me, just listen to that ramble. Sorry, I'm sure you've other concerns. Where'd you say you lived?"

  "I don't think I did," Jacob said sheepishly. "But I think we're on the right street, so you can...just..."

  The pie in his lap suddenly fell to the floor. Jacob's jaw fell open and his eyes went wide as the car came to a complete stop. Towering before them was a colossal column of fire as the apartment Jacob had been living in the past couple of months quite literally went up in smoke. On instinct, Deborah was already out of her car, running to the nearest fire engine with a numb Jacob right on her heel.

  "Daryl!" Deborah cried to the crew chief. "What's going on? What happened?"

  The fire chief, a grizzled African American with a permanent snarl, turned to face her.

  "Not quite sure. Some say that it was a gas leak, something the building manager insists was fixed, but others swear they heard an explosion before the blaze went up."

  "Another explosion?" Deborah gasped.

  It was then she realized Jacob was running past the barricade, only to be tackled by a band of firefighters before he could make it to the door.

  "Let me go!" Jacob insisted. "My uncle is in there! I have to get him out! I have to..."

  "EVERYONE GET BACK! IT'S COMING DOWN!"

  It was a mad scramble on the street as the old supports of the building gave way, and level by level the old complex caved in on itself, spreading dust and debris in a wide radius. Jacob, now running on instinct, fell onto his face before Deborah threw herself over him and shielded him. It was positively deafening and shook the ground beneath them as a house that stood for decades fell to its knees in but mere moments. The following silence was more deafening than the former din. The firefighters and other first responders were quick to assess the damage and tend to the wounded as Jacob and Deborah finally arose. Jacob could only stare numbly at what had remained of his former home and all that he had ever possessed.

  It was gone, and he was alone.