A brief sense of hesitation stalled her from immediately taking his hand, leaving hers hovering above his palm for a second longer, unsure. She was being silly, she knew. Even after his having touched her in more intimate ways, though that was excusable as being necessary, she was still nervous about allowing more physical contact with people than she absolutely had to. She sighed quietly and shook her head a little in order to clear her thoughts, accepting his hand gratefully with a murmured word of thanks. Thinking it over, this had been the third time today that he had insisted that her staying here would be safe and accepted, so at last she decided to believe him as he proceeded to escort her to the bedroom. It, like the rest of the rooms, was both spacious and cozy at the same time without becoming cluttered, furnished in the same Victorian fashion as the living and bath room. He lingered only for as long as he had to and was soon gone again, leaving after the polite bidding of a good night from Vera.
. . .
Vera's eyes blinked into wakefulness, greeted by the silent darkness that consumed the room and cast all of its occupants into shadow. She remained very still, allowing her sense of hearing to take the place of her eyes in order to gauge her surroundings better. Nothing moved, nothing creaked, and it wasn't until she heard the early cawing of a lone bird announcing the approach of dawn, that she slipped from the bed and away from a lumpy bundle that could have been either the sleeping form of Avery or mere blankets. It was with some difficulty that she managed to locate a desired chest of drawers and change out of the robe which had been slept in, and into an outfit identical to that which Nicholas had offered to her the previous evening. The blouse was white or possibly creme and although the jeans were tighter than the clothes that she was used to, they fit well enough and would have to be made do with. Satisfied, she crept from the room, through the hall and out the door, loosely throwing her scabbard over her back as she went.
The sky was still black, but held the tell tale signs of morning in its shades of dark purple and thin strips of red that clung to distant ground where the sun would soon emerge. Much of the color that would have shone through by now was concealed beneath a layering of cloud and a fine mist, courtesy of the recent rain showers, that left the air sharp in her lungs as she padded stealthily across the cobbled square and out the main gates. It was an odd thing for her legs to feel so constricted, but also more capable of movement then they previously had been. Weird. She would have to get used to it, though it helped immensely when, after arriving at her former home and noticing that the door mat was no longer in place, it was required of her to maneuver across the young branches of a decorative tree in order to reach the fire escape. From there, it was a simple matter of pinning her note to the nearest bedroom window of her siblings, telling of where she was going, where several snares had been set in their town, which areas to avoid completely, which to scavenge from, and so on, the last order telling them to watch over their mother and what to do once she passed over.
Upon returning to the Square some hour past sunrise, it was evident that the household was up and about, the sound of bags being packed and drawers rummaged, and the smell of cooking from the kitchen. No one was in the hall and she gratefully slipped into the bathroom to wash up before they left. If anyone noticed her absence, it was not voiced, each too distracted with their own responsibilities to stop and talk. After a hasty breakfast that consisted of the uneaten beans, french toast and a sliced apple, they slung on their belongings and departed with a quick one over of the rooms to make sure nothing of necessity had been forgotten.
It was not long before they came to the wall that led out of the entire district and its many suburbs, where a guard asked for them to return the residency cards that had been given when each had first arrived. Vera was almost reluctant to part with the only evidence that this was her home, or used to be, but gave it to the guard all the same, receiving a nod of approval. They were soon ushered through with some generic words of advice; warnings that had long become common knowledge to the public and deeply implanted safety guidelines that had to be followed if one wanted to keep their life. With the town behind them, each kept their eyes sharp and their thoughts to themselves, a silent agreeing arising that it was too early for talk. Inevitably, Vera's mind continued to stray and pick at the conversation between Nicholas and her the night before, rerunning minor details that had yet to be enlightened. There was the sadistic General, of course, who must have ordered him to do something that was morally wrong, but viewed as good by the militia for some reason, while also involving the small box that didn't hold anything... yet. Although it holds nothing though, it's importance is good enough cause for them to hunt him down and want him dead. Does it concern the undead? A cure? She frowned. That wouldn't make sense though! A frustrated breath of air passed her lungs, but remained otherwise inexpressive towards her thinking.
As the noon sun grew higher and more intense, so did the heat of what had been predicted as another cool, cloudy day, and the talk that should have already begun was ignored as the quiet was further instilled by sweaty discomfort. The bare face of the sun on the damp earth only resulted in the warmth growing as the water beneath the ground steamed up from the depths and filled the air with a hot moisture that clung to the clothes and skin of those who passed through its humid reign, leaving a sheen of sweat on their brows. Discomfort indeed. To distract herself, Vera went over in her mind again and again the network of the mountains they would need to pass. Each time, hitting a mental block of forgetfulness or uncertainty that came from the long years away from the village homes that she had spent a modest deal of her early childhood. It was oddly comforting though to think of even coming near to the brutal town, even if they didn't pass through it, and the idea of meeting another who knew the rocky terrains better than herself left a similar feeling of ease. It wouldn't be long now, as the foot of the distant hills was already in sight, a town visible from under the forgiving strip of a shadow that it cast.
