Dresden Files – Out of the Frying Pan…
What do you do when two fugitives, one of whom is tremendously antisocial, show up at the door of your small apartment looking for shelter? Well, if you’re Rebekka, you give them some floor space, safe in the knowledge that God must have led them here. After Jacob and Benny bed down for the night, things settle down for a few hours. But this is New Orleans, and the heat’s always on here. The respite won’t last long.
In the morning, Reg joins the Rebekka, Jacob, and Benny with the intention of figuring out just what is going on with the artist’s murder. Before they head out into the city, Rebekka gets a call from Ethan, letting her know that he’s indisposed with Warden business, but also filling her in a bit.
It seems that Ethan has gotten a call from Officer Michaels, reminding him that the police have some suspects, but one is still at large.
Though Rebekka and Reg are fresh out of ideas, with the arrival of Jacob and Benny comes some new knowledge. It seems that Jacob squeezed some information out of his “guest” the previous night. With this in mind, the group decides to seek out D’shawn, the person who paid the thugs to come after Jacob. With their new friends, the Rebekka and Reg decide to head to the 9th Ward, to talk to a local community organizer, Jamyl Gibson. If anyone will know where to find D’shawn, it will be him.
Knowing that the 9th Ward is no place to leave a car, the group takes a cab to the community center where Jamyl works. He’s not hard to find, and after leaving his game to talk to the visitors who are OBVIOUSLY out of place, he sits down to talk with them in his office. Feeling a little uncomfortable about the delay in Jamyl sitting down to talk, Reg heads outside to keep an eye on things. Benny heads out with him just to keep him safe.
Jamyl tells Rebekka and Jacob about D’Shawn, and suggests that they steer clear of him. It’s perfectly clear that D’Shawn is BAD news. As the head of the Reds, he’s dangerous enough, but there’s something about him that’s just not right, Jamyl claims. Rebekka and Jacob also ask him about the artist’s death, but he tells them he doesn’t know much about things going on outside of the 9th Ward.
The group leaves, and heads back to Rebekka’s place to discuss what to do next. They decide to go talk to D’Shawn and see what he knows, and they figure it’s best to pose as “tough-guys” in order to do so. However, they quickly realize that one black guy and three white people are going to look VERY out of place in D’Shawn’s part of town. It’s going to be hard to stay incognito that way. Luckily, voodoo has an answer. It takes about half an hour, but Benny is able to lay a glamour over the whole group, making them appear dark skinned for a couple of hours.
When the group gets to the auto body shop, Rebekka is able to convince the guards to let them in. Nonetheless, they’re warned again that D’Shawn isn’t someone to mess with, but they make their way in, flanked by the two guards. It doesn’t take much to figure out which one’s D’Shawn. He’s the hulk that steps out from behind the stripped Escalade. It also doesn’t take much to piss him off, and before long his 8’ hulking form is tearing through his flesh mask, and revealing him and his cronies for the ravenous ghouls they are.
The fight is brutal. Everyone puts up a good fight, but it is clear that even Jacob’s strength is no match for D’Shawn. Rebekka comes out of it nearly torn apart, with a broken arm and a nearly gut-spilling gash in her stomach; however, her divine retribution tears into the ghouls, leaving two dead, and one running for the hills. Another couple hits from the group brings D’Shawn to his knees as well.
Not about to go down for a couple of downtown assholes he couldn’t care less about, D’Shawn spills what he knows. He tells the group that he was paid by a white woman and a BIG white dude, two people whose descriptions Jacob immediately recognizes as Fletcher’s “right-hand men.” He also was able to tell the characters that a neighborhood punk broke into the artist’s place a week or two ago, but he couldn’t remember who the guy was.
Yet more of the city’s dark underbelly is exposed. Perhaps that’s good for our heroes. Perhaps not.