A Vagrant Story Read Online Free Page A

watch this lone figure draped in shadow, his empty silence consuming the quiet of a bitter winter night. For a brief moment he looked straight at Henry who in turn stared back. The man un-flexed his shoulders and vanished down the path he walked.
    “Sorry,” Henry whispered.
    “Henry!” he heard Sierra call behind him. “You let him see you?”
    “Does it matter?” Rum said coming out of hiding. “Guys like that won’t report it anyway. Get to the good stuff already.”
    Sierra tore the wallet open, scuffling through the compartments like a rodent sniffing grease stains. “And we have … some loose change. Fuck all. Great.”
    “There’s a reason good targets aren’t this easy,” Rum said.
    “Maybe the wallet could be worth something, I don‘t know,” Sierra added.
    “Decide later. I hear standing around the scene of the crime isn’t the best way to avoid detection,“ Alex said. “Maybe it’s time we went home.”
    Home was a broody little shack in Middle Park, positioned under a Great Oak just off the central intersection. The residence itself, the thing they called a house, was nothing but a box bound together with eerily balancing planks. They acted as support beams for the flat board roof, which provided little cover from the seeping drips through the intricate design of no appeal. Rum designed it, but if he knew anything about designing he wouldn’t be homeless.
    Beyond their slender board walls, in the vastness of the park, general yelling and meaningless singing raved from the bushes to their ears. Noises like that usually indicated all the drunks were shifting their asses to the park, either that or some other bums were lucky enough to land a beer keg.
    Henry listened closely to those noises. Those somehow threatening noises that always sounded closer than they were, as though a siege-force of assholes and drinkers were taking position around this worthless little castle they called home. He tried drowning out the sounds by pushing closer to his group. They sat encircled around a small kettle fire, its smoke drifting out their curtain of a doorway, and anywhere else it could. 
    Rum vented some distaste upon Henry. The space around was tight enough without him shoving in. At least the added body heat provided some comfort. A certain amount of warmth they’d soon need considering the sparkles of snow passing through the cracked roof – a small sign of things to come.
    Henry looked into the steel kettle set atop the flame. “H-hey … I’m all for tea but does it really have to be made from weeds and … whatever that is?” He made reference to a large black seed like object bubbling around in the water.
    “Yeah sure, let’s open that bag of Thai tea shall we? Or perhaps you’d rather I baked a biscuit for the entrée? Tea is made of plants and herbs so we made this from plants and … that.” In a sly cough the old man added, “Stupid dud. Go to sleep and quit bothering everyone.”
    Henry quickly slinked away from the argument. Redirected back to the corner of the shack, he dipped his head into a scrapped comic book he’d earlier found binned.
    Rum coughed yet again. “Hey Alex, I think I’m getting your cold.” 
    Alex formed a slight grin which collapsed on the end of his words. “I don’t think you could.”
    Rum stared dryly. “Why’s that? You gonna explain or just blank out like you always do?”
    “The second one.”
    “Fuckin’ weirdo.”
    Alex made an effort to ditch Rum by acknowledging Henry. “Hey Henry, what you reading over there?”
    “Don’t ignore me, cunt.”
    Henry popped his head from the pages. “This? It’s a comic.” 
    Rum massaged his own head for Henry’s lacking intelligence. The action was an otherwise un-acknowledged attempt bring attention back upon himself. 
    “I meant what type of comic is it?” Alex asked again.
    “Oh, sorry … It’s just an old one I found in a bin outside a comic store. It’s called … Legion Man.”
    “I