The elevator doors made their characteristic swish as they opened. What spilled forth from that small, moveable room, was none other than Bliss Lovejoy. She had her duster draped over one arm and took a casual stroll to the desk. A duty nurse, a rather skittish and paranoid woman who jumped at every little thing, sat in the lobby, stationed behind the desk. She had spent the past few hours diligently compiling figures of admissions and releases from the hospital. She had fallen far behind in her work, and the lull afforded her was one too good to pass up."Pardon me, nurse ... any word on Asche or Garth returning?" Bliss looked at the nurse on duty at the front desk.
She jumped and squinted up at Bliss as she bit her lip. "No. No word at all", she said through a sigh.
The blond girl frowned. "Grand. Guess I'm going to have to go ballroom dancing again. Thanks."
The nurse tugged on a lock of mousey brown hair as she too frowned. "Doctor Lowinn's taking it real hard."
"I know", replied Bliss, raking a hand through her pale, roughly cut hair. "Which is why I guess I'll have to start looking for the two of them."
"Thank you", said the nurse, and she sounded almost grateful. "Alot of us ... well ... we're not so good out there." The mop of brown turned to nod at the door, indicating the world outside the hospital. Even with the horror seen within these walls, it was a blessed oasis comparatively speaking.
"Poor Terra is probably ready to start bouncing of fhte walls. But Garth is good out there and I've been told Asche is no slouch either."
The jumpsuit received an errant pluck from the nurse's numb fingers. "But it's been so long."
Bliss turned, hearing steps behind her. The opening of the elevator doors and muted tapping of a finger had gone unnoticed in her discourse with the duty nurse. "Evening", she said to the dark man. "I didn't know you were here."
The nurse took notice of the spectred man who had not moved from his lean against the wall and fidgeted nervously. The man spoke from behind a raised scarf, muffling his voice and obscuring his identity. "How does he expect to find the woman?"
"What ... what do you mean?" stammered the nurse. She assumed the man was referencing Garth finding Asche, but one could never be considered too careful.
"This man, Garth." So she had been corect. "He has set out to find the woman, Asche."
"Oh. Oh no. He went out to find Meralynn Harperr."
"Like finding a stone in a wasteland." That was not very comforting, nor reassuring on his part.
"And ... well ... uhmm", she wrung her hands, desperate to get out of this conversation and back to her work. "Meralynn came home last week ... everyone says Asche went with him. She came back herself ... ". She fussed with a paperclip, bending it straight and then curving it back around to it's original shape.
"Let us hope", the veiled man continued quietly, "that the man finds his way to ... where he belongs."
The nurse tugged repeatedly on her hair, obviously more than just shallowly nervous at the man's line of questioning. She was as twitchy as a drop of water in a pan full of hot oil.
The man thankfully looked away from her, though his words were so directed. "Do you have any food?"
"In ... in the cafeteria." She pointed down the hallway that would lead to those double doors and hoped he would just leave.
Not for her benefit, but for his own, he did indeed turn and start down the hallway towards the cafeteria. He didn't give her the courtesy of a farewell or even a thank you, and that was just fine with her. The nurse, with visible gratitude, went back to her filing, thankful that the man had gone. He gave her the willies.
"Well, it shouldn't be too long now." Caine had seated himself in a chair and had been pleasantly passing the time with Bliss ... well, as pleasantly as he ever did anything.
"I'm spending alot of time praying these days. Never seems to do much good." Bliss sighed at that renewed realization.
"Bliss ... look around you." The tone was one of condescension as he crossed his arms over his chest. "If there were gods, as some people thing, why would they let all of this happen?"
Bliss glanced up at him. "Freewill."
The alley continued on into the darkness, the constant drone of the beginnings of an end sucked into oblivion. A man traveled down this hidden path, tattered boots crunching upon the grayish rubbled stone. He looked up towards the darkness as a hand drifted from within his long coat, bringing with it a crumpled box. It was lifted to his lips and they puckered to pull out a cigarette. They shifted, tucking it into the corner of his mouth and his one good eye, puffed red around the cheekbone, scoured the trail before him. The box was replaced as the alley opened to the street. His destination of New Rydynn Memorial Hospital had been reached. He cast a last glance towards the ambulance permanently displayed on blocks, as his hand set to the handle of a door. In from the night he admitted himself, and as his boots echoed down the hall, the cigarette shifted absently between his lips.
The nurse's eye settled upon the range man who just entered the lobby area. She noted the one eye and watched as it settled on each person before his feet again lifted and brought him face to face with her. She squeaked quietly and tried to make herself look as busy as possible. It was a failed effort, as he wasn't going away. She looked up cautiously from her work, such as it was. "Can ... can I help you?"
The man eyed her as one side of his coat was flipped to the side. She caught a glimpse of cold steel in that flashed moment, but his hand reached for something else. The shape and form of her skull would not allow her eyes to be any bigger than they were, but her pupils dilated as he laid a faded box of blue and white with red lettering upon the desk and leaned forward on it.
"Gauze", he said in that smooth, cool voice. "Room 433 and 211."
The skittish nurse snatched the box and stuttered her way through the repeat. "R ... room ... 4 ... 433 and 211." She nodded, hoping in some secret way that her head would fall off and she would be out of the never ending sense of uncomfortability.
He turned to walk away and then glanced back at her, over his shoulder. "433. 211", he said quietly, as if he needed to drive it home further. He said not another word as he turned again and headed towards the kitchen.
She blinked, dry-mouthed, and gulping for air. Her fingers trembled as they grasped for a pen, shakingly etching out a note to the night staff. She didn't want him coming after her if the directive was messed up.
Ed had shuffled his way into the kitchen area to join the one-eyed man. He had seen him before, and usually in the company of Asche. He had no desire to listen to the prattle that continued between Bliss and Caine. He despised them enough as it was, and their talk of the She further served his irritation. He approached Zac's table and stopped short of it. "Ash is gone," came the muffled voice. "So is Garth."
Zac eyed the young man and nodded, spooning the scum-slicked stew into his mouth. He watched too as the man removed the hood and scarf from his head and then sat down next to Zac, with, oddly, a grin.
"I shot him", Ed informed Zac.
A brow shot up. "Who?", he asked quietly.
"The Freemen, Garth," he continued to relay. "The Murderer. I missed on purpose, though."
Zac slid his bowl closer, scraping up the last bits of stew and then stopped, mid-chew. "Come again, kid. Murderer?"
"Yes. Purple eyes." Well, there was only one purple-eyed Freemen named Garth at the moment, so there was no mistaking who Ed meant.
"Got details?" asked Zac, cocking his head to one side, and then he remembered. A hand raised to stop the kid from explaining further. "That was Garth?"
Now it was Ed's turn to be quiet. "Yes. It was. Now he is in charge of hospital security, I hear. I have to keep a low profile. Some trigger happy huumunns," slight curl of distaste as he said that word, "have it in for me. They don't understand."
The one-eyed man gave a singular nod. "Freemen with a split personality. Odd." He mused more to himself over this thought. It was indeed almost an amusing one. "What about Asche?" came the deft subject change.
"I don't know. I told her he wasn't to be trusted," and he stopped, realizing that that wasn't exactly what the man wanted to know about. "Asche is still missing."
"Took her stuff and headed which way?", prodded Zac.
"I don't know," admitted Ed, "I wanted to look for her. No one knows where she went."
The other man took his time during the answer, wondering if there was any more forthcoming information. "You talk to the street waifs yet?" Surely the man had ... it was the most logical place to start trying to uncover information about damn near anything.
"I ... uh ... well ..." Ed floundered, and badly. "I never thought of that."
"They must have an idea. Some ... direction. Unless she is in some kind of trouble, she'll have fed them waifs somehow."
Ed knew this to be true and gave a mono-syllabic chuckle. "I think she would be with someone who has a lot of connections. I mean beyond the occasional burn plate and can of oil."
The previously seen gun was withdraw from it's side holster and fingers worked at the clip release. "Maybe," came the rather closed reply. Gunmetal gray slid against gunmetal gray as the clip slid with a whisp into Zac's hand.
"You know more than I do about that stuff, though ... at least, that's what I can gather."
Perhaps it was an attempt at ego-boosting or merely shameless flattery. In either case, Zac wasn't impressed. His gaze narrowed slightly at the young man as he reloaded a new clip into the firearm. A click was heard and then that same metallic whisper as the slide was pulled back, and a round was chambered. "So, you up for a trip into the outlands?" The question was almost casual, as if the outlands were some sort of nice resort, or gambling establishment. The gun was slid back into it's sheath and he looked at Ed, waiting for his answer.
"Yes." Good. It was the right one.
Zac nodded and again looked the kid over. "I figure that's where she went first. She left here in a huff and all noble the night she quit. He had another thing to muse over, the memory of that night, and what he saw.
"The outlands?", Ed asked. "Or someplace in particular?"
The cigarette found a new position in his mouth as he leaned back in his chair. "Headed to the outlands. Via all these little redoubts."
A thought occurred to Ed, and it was one that might severely impact their search for the missing female medic. "She didn't have a vehicle, did she?"
One-Eye shook his head. It was a good question, but one he already knew the answer to. "Quickest way to die unless yer smart. Nope. She walked for sure."
Ed was suddenly glad he never found a car. "Oh. Do you have a car?"
Fishing for a lighter, Zac smirked, almost huffing. "What's left of one."
"Ah ... well ... if it's faster than a runner at full speed, then I'm not worried."
Smoke drifted lazily up from the cigarette as it was lit, the head tilted backwards, up towards the ceiling. A head nodded through a stream of gray-blue hue. At some point during their conversation, Bliss and Caine had entered and kept to themselves. That was just as well. Zac didn't have any dealings with them anyway, and this didn't concern them. "It's fast enough." He looked back to Ed and patted his chest. "You packin' kid?"
A kid he may be called, but this was New Rydynn and Ed wasn't stupid. "Doubly. Longshot and this thing that turns when you fire it."
Zac nodded and gave a slight grin, his first of the evening. "Good. Well, kid, just make sure that it's clean, so it don't jam out there", and he gave an absent not towards the nebulous outside.
"Yeah", Ed replied and glanced towards the doors. He was feeling antsy and knew he was going to have leave the same way he came in ... by sneaking his way around. It was for this reason that he always seemed to 'just appear out of thin air'. "When do we leave?"
"Two mornings from now. Yer there ... you go. If not." He shrugged. If Ed wasn't there, that meant that Zac would be flying this thing solo. "Don't worry, kid. We'll find Mirandahh.
"Okay, yes, of course." Ed nodded. It started out solemnly, and then progressed to one more of self-satisfaction.
If Zac had possessed two eyes, his next gesture would have been a wink. He rose from his table, leaving his bowl where it was, and patted Ed on the shoulder. He was done here for now, and made his way out of the kitchen, back towards the lobby. He beat his retreat back to the nurses' desk. The familiar lean upon the desk was taken, and he looked at the now standing nurse, who stood frozen in fear. "What rooms again, missy?"
Her pulse was racing and she was like a cornered, scared, small rodent. "Uhm ... uhm ... 433 and 211!" she blurted out, without any show of finesse or grace. She snatched up a piece of paper and practically flew down the hallway away from the man.
Zac gave her a small grin, and that pseudo-wink again. "Good girl." He snapped his fingers and made the puppet of a gun with his hand, as if he were shooting the nurse. He turned, the coat shifting out into a slight billow behind him as he did so, and he left the hospital and it's occupants to their own conversations and soon-to-be forgotten deals.