Awake Chapter 1, Scene 2

Jane wasn’t quite sure what to make of the girl escorting her. She considered breaking away from her at the first opportunity, but, unfortunately, Aim’s assessment had been exactly right: she was lost and she didn’t know this city. That, and she was pretty sure there wasn’t much of anything Aim could do that she couldn’t react to and stop before it became dangerous.

The dark-skinned girl spoke almost constantly, as if afraid of silence. Jane let the sound of her voice wash over her, barely paying attention until there was a sudden silence.

“Where do I come from?” Jane echoed, replaying the words as she spoke them.

“And none of that ‘when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much’ crap,” Aim added.

“North,” Jane answered, waving generally into the distance.

Aim snorted at her. “Could you vague that up a little?”

Jane shook her head and Aim sighed.

“Fine,” Aim said, “I get it. You don’t want to talk about yourself. Gonna make this pretty one-sided, though.”

“I don’t mind,” Jane shrugged.

Aim rolled her eyes. “You got any money?”

“What?” Jane asked, thrown by the nonsequitur.

“Money? To buy lunch with?”

“Oh.” Jane shoved her hand in her pocket and removed a small wad of bills. “I have some cash.”

Aim gulped. “Put that away!” she hissed. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you know better than to tease the animals?”

Jane felt her mouth quirk into a smile. “Should I worry about them?” she asked. She’d learned a little fighting in the facility, but was hardly what anyone would call a master. On the other hand, she was tall and, contrary to the commonly held perception, mongoose quick.

Aim looked at her askance. “I don’t know,” she said, finally, “but it’s a lot safer than being clueless. Were you raised in a bubble?”

“Close enough,” Jane said, her moment of half-realized levity washed away with the recognition of how little she could say about herself.

Aim took her through a bewildering series of back alleys, streets, and the occasional untended property before fetching up behind a rundown shack with a surprisingly spacious yard. A number of blankets were laid flat on the grass and there were six large barrel-shaped barbecue grills lining the outer perimeter. A heavyset man with sparse, greying hair and a wifebeater t-shirt harangued a dozen of younger men and women to keep turning chicken, burgers, and hot dogs. Adolescents raced back and forth, carrying platefuls of meat over to what Jane assumed was the serving table, where stiff paper plates, a selection of cheap rolls, and various condiments were arranged.

As Jane followed Aim through a hole in the chain-linked fence, the boisterous conductor of the whole affair spotted her. “Scamp,” he roared, his broad face reddening, “you better have the scratch you owe for last sup!”

Aim raised her hands in a placating gesture. “Relax, Otto,” she soothed, then ruthlessly shoved Jane forward. “My friend’s got it covered. And a couple specials for tonight, too.”

The big man, Otto, looked at Jane suspiciously. “No,” he said. “She does not get the special. Not until she takes off the sweatshirt. All you can eat is for one sit-down, only!”

Jane scowled. “Why should I give you any of my money?” she asked.

Otto shrugged. “I don’t care what you do,” he sniffed, “but this little sneak pays before she eats, or she does not eat. And since you are her friend, the same rules apply. No money, no food.”

Aim tugged Jane’s sleeve. “Pleeeease?” she whined.

Jane sighed. “How much,” she asked, looking at Otto.

“Two specials is normally ten each, but I will make exception because you are friends with little robber. Fifteen each, and you should get better friends. For what scamp owes, another twenty and we call it even.”

Jane coughed. “Fifty dollars?”

“It’s good deal, for company you keep. You don’t like it, you go somewhere else. Maybe I mention to other people I know about seeing scamp and giant girl.”

For just a moment, Jane tensed, feeling her biceps and chest tighten and swell against the loose fabric of her t-shirt. She considered the ramifications of launching herself at the older man; she didn’t doubt that she could kill him and escape before anyone could stop her, but she’d already been seen. How many people would she have to kill to guarantee her safety?

Apparently Otto recognized the sudden tension in her frame as well, because he drew back a nervous step. Aim gripped Jane’s wrist, pulling ineffectually against the giant woman.

Jane held her tension a moment longer, then relaxed, all the tension flowing out of her like water. She dropped her eyes and pulled her money from her pocket, stripping a few bills from the roll and thrusting them at the cowering man.