After the girls cleaned up by a nearby lake, Kurt stole clothes as they moved through the D-rank district.
He collected multiple shirts and pants. Then selected what looked like it would fit and handed the bundle to Mary and Sam without explanation.
If they wanted to keep their clothes safe, they shouldn’t have left it hanging on ropes outside windows.
The girls ducked into an alley where Mary changed quickly, her movents stiff and pained, while Sam pulled on a loose shirt and shorts.
When Kurt reached for his trench coat, Sam wrapped it tighter around herself. "I’m keeping this," she said.
"I didn’t need it anyway," Kurt shrugged.
The travel to the E-rank district took longer than Kurt expected. Mary could barely stay upright, leaning heavily on Sam, each step a visible effort.
By the ti they reached the checkpoint, Kurt’s head was starting to pound, exhaustion creeping in at the edges.
The guards barely glanced at them. Just another trio of beaten-down people shuffling through. All he required was their pass and they were good to go.
Kurt kept his expression neutral, one hand steadying Mary as he revealed his certificate to the guard who nodded casually when he saw it.
Sam simply showed the guard a ring given to her by Ilda and the guard’s tired eye widened with surprise as he backed away.
He gestured to so other officials within a building and they opened up the path to the trio as they crossed into E-rank territory.
"What was that all about?" Kurt asked, looking down at Sam who walked beside him with an air of pride surrounding her.
She closed her eyes, then opened one of them and grinned at Kurt. "I told you Mama Ilda has her ways."
Kurt pondered for a mont, and a little understanding of how the world worked began to settle in.
Your rank wasn’t all that mattered, and there were several powers that be who ran things beyond the world governnt’s influence.
He led them to a small diner, where they would rest up before continuing their journey. It looked like the kind of place that stayed open late and didn’t ask questions.
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as they slid into a booth. Kurt pulled out Baran’s wallet and flipped it open.
Stacks of cash. Several ID cards. Receipts.
He whistled low. "Murder pays well."
He waved over a waitress and ordered half the nu. When the food ca, Mary ate slowly, hands trembling as she lifted her fork. She couldn’t et Kurt’s eyes and kept looking at Sam instead, then down at her plate.
Finally, she whispered, "Thank you."
"Don’t ntion it," Kurt leaned back on the booth.
Sam, anwhile, was demolishing her fourth plate. Kurt raised an eyebrow as another stack of pancakes disappeared. "You planning to eat the table next?"
Sam looked up, cheeks stuffed. "What? I’m hungry." She swallowed and stabbed another pancake.
"Mama said: eating healthy makes the body grow well, and the body growing well is always good for business." Sam raised a finger as she quoted Ilda with her mouth half full.
"Yeah, I can see that," Kurt’s gaze shifted lower, even his trenchcoat failed to conceal them properly and Mary let out a weak chuckle, the first sound of levity since Kurt found her.
Kurt dropped cash on the table and stood. His vision swam for a second, but he steadied himself against the booth, then gestured for them to follow. "Right. Ti to go."
***
They arrived at Zulon City where most people already asleep or pretending to be. Sam fell into step beside Kurt while Mary carried on ahead, eager to reach The Foxhole.
"So... tell about your life," she said. "Your guild. What’s it like?"
Kurt lit a cigarette, the familiar motion grounding him as another wave of fatigue hit. "Mad, mostly. Bunch of crazed lunatics that live for the rush. Good food and even better booze. The people are absolutely ntal, I can’t stress that enough, but also... interesting."
"Interesting how?" Sam asked.
"Let’s see... we’ve got a woman who’d shoot you in the leg just for looking at her funny. Another who also definitely has a screw loose up there and can bloody out drink despite how tiny she looks." He took another drag, staring up and Sam watched him with fascination in her eyes.
"Right, there’s also the ice queen, our newest recruit, who, I fear, is plotting my death daily, and then there’s Rook..." Kurt continued.
"Rook?" Sam asked, even more fascinated.
"The only sane one, and even he’s questionable." Kurt grinned. "It’s fun."
Sam smiled faintly. Then her expression shifted, more serious. "How did you co back to life? I watched you die."
Kurt took a drag, his hand steadier than it should be given how his head was spinning. "I’ll tell you mine if you tell yours."
Sam’s cheeks puffed out, and she crossed her arms. "Hmph. I have nothing to tell you." She closed her eyes and turned her head away dramatically.
Kurt chuckled and said, "right. Keep your secrets then."
***
They reached The Foxhole just as the neon sign flickered to life above the entrance. Kurt pushed the door open, and the familiar scent of perfu and smoke washed over him.
Mary stumbled inside, and imdiately, Ilda appeared.
She took one look at Mary; bruised, burned, barely standing, and her expression turned to cold fury. She crossed the room and pulled Mary into her arms.
"You’re safe now," Ilda said softly. "I’ve got you."
Mary collapsed into her, sobbing, and Ilda held her, stroking her hair. After a mont, she looked up at Kurt, and her eyes were dangerous.
"You have my gratitude," Ilda said. "And my debt."
She gently passed Mary to one of the girls and walked over to Kurt, pulling a folded piece of paper from her cleavage. "Locations of Braun’s loot houses. Every one I know. Districts, addresses, schedules. All of it."
Kurt took the paper with fingers that felt clumsy at the mont and tucked it into his pocket. "Much appreciated."
Ilda stepped closer, her voice dropping to sothing more seductive . "And if you ever return to The Foxhole... it’s on the house."
Kurt grinned. "I’ll keep that in mind."
Sam stepped forward suddenly. "I want to go with him."
Ilda’s eyes widened. "Samantha—"
"I want to see his guild," Sam said, her tone firm. "I want to et new people. I want... I want to do sothing that matters. Not just hide here forever."
Ilda studied her for a long mont, then sighed. "You know I can’t protect you outside these walls. There are rules that even I must adhere to."
"I know," Sam said. "But I’m going anyway."
Ilda’s expression softened, and she pulled Sam into a hug. "Be careful, little Crowley."
Kurt caught the na, the sa one the system refered to her as, but he didn’t push.
And then it hit him.
A sudden, vivid flash of mory.
A cetery. Rain pouring down in sheets. A tombstone with the na "Martha Manchester" carved into the stone. Kurt standing there, soaked, staring at the grave. The scent of wet earth and grief.
Then the mory shifted.
A pub. Dim lighting. Kurt sitting at the bar, drinking bourbon. A woman walking up to him—blonde, furious—and slapping him across the face. She grabbed his glass and poured the bourbon over his head. "You selfish prick!" she scread.
The mories faded, and Kurt staggered, grabbing the wall.
[MORY FRAGNT RECOVERED]
[ 2 points awarded]
[MORY FRAGNT RECOVERED]
[ 2 points awarded]
[Available Points: 60]
Kurt blinked, his vision blurry as the exhaustion, the mories, the fights, all ca crashing down on him at once and his legs gave out.
"Kurt!?" Sam rushed forward, catching him as he collapsed. "Kurt, what’s wrong?!"
Ilda snapped her fingers. "Lagatha!"
The massive Amazonian woman appeared, scooped Kurt up like he weighed nothing, and carried him toward the back rooms.
Sam followed, her face pale with worry. "Mama Ilda... is he going to be okay?"
Ilda stopped and watched them go, her expression unreadable. "I don’t know."
Kurt’s eyes fluttered shut as Lagatha laid him on a bed. The last thing he heard was Sam’s voice, soft and worried.
"Kurt? Kurt? Say sothing..."
And then darkness took him.
***
A/N: I hope you’re enjoying this so far. Add to Library and send a power stone or two if you’re.
And a review or two would an sothing to ! Thank you and peace!
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