7 Into the Wild

He refuses to let her know exactly what she's going to have to help him with out there. It annoys her, but she can understand his perspective. As long as she doesn't know, she can't tell anyone else. He finishes his food, not looking quite satisfied, but not asking for more either. He leans back to look out the window at the people down in the streets. Incredible curiosity follows with sudden access to something one could only look at from the distance. He probably never thought he'd be able to see the inside of the walls alive.

"Let's go," she says, mind racing to figure out a way to let someone know what's going on. To get help. She'll admit, there doesn't seem to be a lot of other options. As long as she has that device around her neck, she's incapacitated. Her mentor will be able to help, knowing her situation better than anyone else. Then there's the issue of how to pass a message before they leave the headquarters, or any at all. She grabs a notebook and a pencil, sticking it in the spare jacket she throws over her shoulders. If she ever gets an opportunity, she can at least write a little note and leave it somewhere a hunter can find it and bring it to the mentor. They leave her apartment before she has a chance to write anything.

While they're headed for the building that also works as a gate, she doesn't get a moment's rest. He asks more questions than a four-year-old, firing another one as soon as the answer to the previous one leaves her mouth. Every time he spots something new. She makes sure not to give away anything of importance, even if this is the last time he comes here. As a halfling, there's no way he's coming back after he leaves her out there. She just wishes she didn't feel like it is her last time here as well. Burrowing her hands in her pocket, she wraps her hands around her apartment key and gym membership card. No matter what happens outside the wall today, she'll be back.

By the gate, the shock hits her that they're certain to do a body-check on him, and find the necklace on her, not him. A quick rune scribbled on one of her notes before they enter the building creates the illusion of whatever she wants them to see. Her captor side-eyes her scribble and is a very good actor when it comes to the part that his life depends on. The guards find nothing else to poke further into, obviously having been informed of the halfling in custody, and they're let through without a single hiccup. They both heave a sigh of relief when their boots touch the fresh snow outside.

"Can you tell me where are we going, now?" she asks, an ice block in her stomach forming when he turns to her, grinning.

"To meet someone who might know the answer to this problem," he answers and starts walking to the east, along with the wall. She quickly pulls him out of the range of the defense mechanisms. Other than that, she guesses she has no other choice than to follow him. Fantastic. She tries to ask who they're meeting, but all he says is that it's a relative. Nothing could be better. She has all the right in the world to be bitter, and his cheery whistling doesn't help. Once, she fishes her weapon out of her pocket, uncurls it, and is shocked to her knees. He takes it, saying he will 'confiscate' it until they reach their destination.

They walk for hours, mostly in silence. Now and then when the wall appears in sight, he asks a few more questions, but other than that he doesn't seem interested in anything. Every time she goes back inside the wall, she forgets how broken and post-apocalyptic the city outside is. It doesn't feel like there're only ten meters of steel and cement between those two worlds. Crossing the gate into the wild human-infested world on the other side is like stepping through a magical portal. He lived his whole life out here, with his mother, the woman she killed. No, she doesn't want to think about that anymore.

Once, he asks her name, and she tells him that she's called Kimle by most people. Apparently, his name's Cameron. She didn't ask. For some reason, it makes her even more attached, as if her obsession didn't already run deep enough. She whispers his name, thinking he wouldn't hear it, and he bursts into laughter. Then it starts to snow, and with their hoods covering their heads, only horns poking out, they finish the walk without uttering another word. Watching his back the whole time, she's certain he doesn't see the notes she leaves behind.

Finally, they reach an old, rundown house in the old suburbs, where he stops with no warning to knock on the door. Minutes pass, with her peeking into the windows, which are all nailed shut from the inside. She turns to him, making sure the doubt is plain on her face. His confidence is making him glow, and she almost admits that's not a bad trait. He's half human though. She shivers, and peeks into the window again, coming face to face with a pale, nearly white, woman's face. A small scream escapes her and she reaches for her weapon, only to remember that he has it. She must have scared him as well because the shock that follows makes her stumble and land on her back, gasping for air. At the same time, the door slams open and a young man bursts out with a rifle in his hands. She blinks, wondering if she hit her head because she's certain he has... horns. He takes his aim.

Cameron yells and the boy swings the weapon, nearly hitting his fellow halfling in the head. Luckily, the older of the two steps out of the way and pushes down the barrel, flicking him on the forehead. A worried, high pitched question comes from inside the house. Kimle thought her eyes couldn't go wider, but they do, when a female demon steps out of the house. She pushes the younger halfling out of the way to get to Cameron, who she pulls into a tight hug. Rubbing her eyes, she shakily gets back on her feet on her own. Not making a single sound, she watches the homecoming-scene unfold. Eventually, the tall, lanky woman, whose horns are long and slightly curved, turns her attention to her. The last inch of both her horns is missing. Kimle quickly averts her eyes.

"You're not as unlucky as you think," the stranger says and holds out a hand to help her onto the stairs to the entrance. Kimle politely refuses. "Come inside, I think there's a lot to talk about. I will try my best to help." Walking on her own shaky legs, and with her captor on her heels, she accepts that her life is over when she enters the enemy's camp. Her jaw is shut so tightly that when the woman, maybe the halfling's mother, asks to take her jacket, she can barely shake her head. With a tiny smile, she invites her further into the house. It is in much better condition than her own apartment. So much so that she side-eyes Cameron, and he chuckles. His hands are occupied with the rifle, and keeping the younger halfling away from it, reprimanding him for running with his finger on the trigger.

They bring her to the kitchen, a living space arranged around a wide table with room for eight people, and clean counters. It's roughly the size of her apartment. What baffles her, though, is that it seems they've lived there for a very long time. There are repairs on the sink, so they've possibly made it work again, and the tablecloth is a patchwork without an equal. There's already someone in the room. A woman her own age is washing dishes, by the window she peeked into earlier. She's almost completely white, with silvery hair and horns. The other resident halfling's stark opposite. The demon woman gesture for the two kids to leave the room. The daughter closes the door behind her. Then they sit. Her, the homeowner on one side, and Cameron patting the seat next to him on the other. She wants to remain standing but there's a mild current in her collar, and she drops onto the chair.

"I can tell what has happened, you don't have to say it. There really is no other alternative, is there? The demon woman begins, making sure to look into the other two's eyes in turn. Cameron's face all of a sudden crumbles into a mask of pain and pure sorrow, gently rocking from side to side. Kimle barely moves, eyes flickering between him and the other woman. The stranger's expression is thick with compassion.

"I want it to stop," he whispers. "It hurts, so much. I want to kill her, I want to get rid of her." Kimle starts biting her lip to keep herself occupied, so she doesn't throw herself out the window. He still has her in a very vulnerable situation, and it would probably mean death if she tried anything. At the same time that she wants to run for her life, she doesn't want to leave his side. She wants to run, or kill him, or find a way to live with him.

"I just want to get him out of my head." She stutters in agreement, and the two of them, trapped in this loop of hate and love and obsession, stare at each other. The demon woman breaks in before they start anything.

"Where's your mom, Cameron? She was supposed to come here a couple of days ago." Cameron buries his face in his hands and leans down over the table. Kimle gathers her courage and takes the word on his behalf.

"I think I killed her." The other woman leans back in her chair and lowers her eyes to the table.

"She was a fine woman. I'm so sorry. I'm sure she's happy now that she can be with your father again," she says and reaches over to place a hand on his shoulder. He sucks in a shaky breath and straightens his back. Unsure of why, she grabs his hand, and even more surprisingly, he lets her hold it. The other woman watches it with a mix of sadness and relief.

"I know this is probably not what you came to hear, and especially not right now, but," she clears her throat and braces herself. "There's no 'cure' for what you're going through. Trust me, we've looked. Not even death can lift the bond between you, I'm afraid. But don't look at me like that, I will help you understand how to live with it."