Chapter 5

"I really don't drink," I repeated for the fifth time in a minute.

Kira had taken us deep into the Gray and far away from Rogue territory. We had to duck and weave through dingy allies, past colorful shops and pristine buildings. The Gray was a mixture of old, new and completely run down. There wasn't just one place in the city that was better than the other, finding a burnt out shell of a factory next to a giant mall with top of the range bots handing out free samples of food wasn't uncommon.

We came to a stop outside a large building. Large ventilation pipes ran down the building and into the ground. Neon signs advertised alcohol and other fun activities that Runt shouldn't know about. People leaned against its wall, standing in groups – laughing and cheering at whatever they were watching on small glowing screens. A busy street, just like very street in the Gray.

She shoved me forward through a black metal door. A warehouse sprawled in front of me, catwalks crossed over head. A circular bar in the middle of the room served out different drinks, music a background act to the chorus of cheers and bellows of people on different levels of the bar. The orange light highlighting the different drinks, the waiters rushed around handing them out.

"Private or public, Stray?" Kira asked, shouting in my ear.

"Neither?"

"Public it is," she said, slapping my back and pulling me forward towards a booth in the far corner of the room. She slid down one side of the couch, Runt and I on the other.

Everything was beginning to blur, I hadn't slept in days. Sleeping in the Zoo wasn't really sleeping, more like extended periods of forced unconsciousness. The music and the cheers bled into the mash of different colors. Runt tugged on my sleeve.

I want something to drink, she signed.

"What does she want?" Kira asked, swiping through a menu screen on the table.

I want beer, a smile on her small face.

"You're not drinking that," I chuckled, running a hand through her messy hair. My hand came out greasy, small tufts of dirt fell away from it. "Jesus, Runt, when did you last take a bath?"

She pouted. I've been looking for you.

"So what does she want?" Kira forced, her finger tapping against the table.

"Just go with milk."

Runt kicked me leg, signing words that I shouldn't have taught her.

"You?"

"I don't drink, like I've said for the past hour," I groaned, putting my head on the table. "Why do we have to go somewhere so loud? And why you?"

I heard the confirmation hum of the menu, followed by a long sigh. "What? You don't want to talk to me?"

"I just want to take a shower and keep looking around."

"I'm gonna be honest with you, Stray," she said, accepting the two drinks brought to our table. "I don't want to talk to you either."

"Thanks."

"Not because you're, you know, the person parents tell their kids about to get them to eat their greens," she wiped the glass with a small cloth, elaborately circling it several times, "but because you're kinda a letdown."

"I can think of several different places I'd rather go to get insulted," I muttered, sleep pulling me away.

She snorted. "Not my fault you don't live up to your own myths."

"People come up with all these stories by themselves, so-"

"So it isn't true that you've burnt down half a forest with people still in it?" She cocked her head and sipped the drink.

The acrid stench of the burning forest came back to me, the smoke burning my lungs, the acidic taste of adrenaline and fear flooding my mouth.

I shook my head. "That wasn't my fault."

"So it just caught fire by itself?" she smirked.

"If I explained it, we'd be here for hours," I shrugged. "No one has that time."

She spent a minute studying me, her blue eye skeptical. Even in the packed bar full of its own smells of sizzling meat and sweat, her sweet smell of roses still cut through it. Her hoodie neatly pressed, not a single crease on her.

"Found something interesting?" she crossed her arms, not in an angry way, more like she was covering up.

"No, no. I'm just a little tired," I smiled.

"Then I'll make this quick," she leaned forward, "stick around and help us."

I shook my head.

"Help us," she demanded, eye squinting.

"I'm good thanks, have my own stuff to deal with."

"So you're just gonna walk away again? Doesn't that get lonely?" A question that sounded like it was more for herself.

"Not really, I usually have Tick around. Or Runt. Or I run into a new group of people."

"Looking for your mum?" she leaned back, her glass empty, sitting on the edge of the table.

"Yeah … Isn't much, but that's the only goal I have right now."

"What about after that?"

I paused before more words could spill out. I had never thought about what next, it sounded stupid that I haven't but it's true. I'd been looking for her for years now, one thing on my mind, and I never thought about what next.

I shrugged. "I'll see where life takes me I guess."

She laughed, drawing stares. "No goals, a liar and a fraud. I don't even see why we need you."

I didn't bother replying. I stood up, Runt doing the same. I left her in the booth, laughing to herself. Runt seemed like she didn't want to leave, pulling away from my hand and running back to the table, small arms pumping. Great. Even Runt was on her side. I headed out the door, the humid air of the Gray washed over me.

This place never had anything good. It had changed a lot since the last time I saw it, but not entirely for the good. The Rogues had taken over a bigger part of the Gray, the bridge towards the Gatekeepers' territory had been reinforced. Tension seasoned the air, people giving each other side glances. Funnily enough, the Gray isn't meant to be run by anyone but the council, but here the city was – nearly torn in half by two factions.

"No wonder Tick wanted me to leave," I muttered, shoving my hands into my pockets.

I heard the door creak open behind me. Kira stood in its frame, a smile tugging on her rosy lips.

"Okay, look, I'm sorry for what I said back there," she smiled, "but you have to admit that I was just telling the truth."

I began walking away, restaurant owners shouting and advertising their food set out on tables on the street. I felt a cold hand touch my elbow, quickly receding. Her sweet scent still overpowering.

"Let's make a deal. I'm a bounty hunter, the best in the West Coast, and I can help you find your mum," Kira said, stepping in front of me. "But just help us out on a job tomorrow. It'll be a cake walk, I promise."

I looked into her eye, searching it. I couldn't find a hint of anything in there, just a locked away thoughts. "No violence?"

"No violence." She saluted. "Scouts honor, or whatever the fuck you swear by."

"I've never been a scout," I mumbled. Tick said I shouldn't get wrapped up, the supposedly best bounty hunter in the West Coast wants to help me out. Weighing up the possibilities and I'll have to say finding my mum comes first. Tick would understand. Hopefully. Probably not. I heaved out a frustrated groan. "Fine. I'll help you tomorrow, and then we'll find my mum. Deal?"

"Deal." She smiled, her white teeth matching the bright lights coming from skyscrapers.