THREE FRACTIONS

The man gave his son another tight squeeze, then set him down. “Why don’t you go see Uncle Tuck while I talk to these nice people?”

Sammy frowned. “Is he mad at me?”

His hand rubbed over Sammy’s messy hair. “Not at all. We’re just glad you’re okay.”

The boy nodded, then ran for the group of men who had moved a little closer but still were about twenty feet away from us.

“I’m Jack,” the dad said, walking toward me. This time, without a murderous glare.

I shook his offered hand. “Atlas.” I nodded behind him. “That’s Elena in grey and Amy in white.”

“What happened to my son?” Jack demanded, glancing behind me, likely at Sammy.

Elena stepped forward and moved to my side. My arm twitched to pull her against me and mark my territory, but I refrained as she began to speak.

“Sammy told me that he was swinging with his friends while the adults talked. The ‘bad man’ as he called the asshole we have tied up in the van, apparently had balloons and, from the sounds of it, was hiding behind some bu