Quinta
The nightime town was quiet, partly due to the rain, and partly to the fact that half the population had fled. The stillness was greater than Mathias had imagined, and he was beginning to doubt whether he'd needed to escape in such a hurry.
Peering down one of the many streets that would take them to the main square and his father's mansion somewhere along the way, in the wet gloom, absentmindedly listening to Bernhardt and Jarratt talk as the former was retracting his anchors from the Wall, Nikki and Klaus standing close by, he felt a sudden, blundering rush of emotion. He was home.
Quinta differed from Fuerth in every possible way he could think of, from the rudimentary design of its buildings to the narrow space between them, the narrowness of its streets, how they felt beneath one's feet. Being on the opposite end of Wall Maria made it a constant attraction for the Titans in the desolate lands beyond, and thus all resources went toward maintaining the defenses. At its start, so his father said, Quinta was simple, built by everyday folk by their own hands, for their own purposes, until he came along, newly wealthy from his business ventures within the Interior, and redecorated large sections of it to his own liking. Boasting that it was the grandest of the outlying Districts, his father's ego soon inflated to match his coin purse. Bottomless, like his appetite, Suzanne had once quipped one morning.
And thinking of her in that moment, Mathias reasoned that she wasn't after a bribe but something... more. Something damning, to end his father and take away all he had in one, fell swoop. With no clearly understanding as to why she might've weaseled her way into her father's greasy embrace—he shuddered at the image—whatever these artworks were, he would find out soon.
And, there was also Rita and her family. He had to reach them, wherever they were, and get them out of here. Back to Quina. Back to safety. Back to Suzanne. Then? Suzanne would know what best to do. Especially if he had one or two of those artworks on hand...
Glancing back, thumbing the shotgun at his hip, there was no telling how these Bernhardt and the rest would react. They'd been traveling together for a little over two weeks now, and though he admitted to growing somewhat fond of their company, grateful for their help, he had to remember that they were still outlaws. Murderers. If they caught him trying to steal from them then he was good as dead, he knew it. No question. No hesitation. No remorse. His only chance, then, was to strike a deal, and, for the first time in his life, he was proud to be the son of a man like Jörg Kramer. Though, if that ended up failing... Bernhardt's words came rushing back to his ears: The rules of the Interior no longer apply.
But was he prepared? Bernhardt's blade slashing that soldier's throat leaped to the forefront of his thoughts.
Maybe you just lack the nerve.
Clutching at his chest, Mathias' heart felt heavy, and he braced against the Wall, breathing shallow. Just the idea of having to kill another person, regardless of what they'd done, or what they might do, he felt sick. He felt helpless, and as his eyes went dizzily to the ground he was again at the edge of the chasm from his dreams—no, his nightmares—and gazing into its darkness, he backed away in fear and bumped into something firm. Something exuberantly warm though drenched in rain, and he looked up into Jarratt's ever-smiling face.
"Woah, there," he said. "You look pale." Turning his eyes up to the Wall and dismal clouds above, Jarratt heaved a massive sigh then looked back down with a wink. "I'm scared of heights, too. Glad we're back on solid ground."
Mathias blinked, and sheepishly returned the bigger man's smile. "Y-yeah..." He went from Jarratt to the chasm, to Rita somewhere on the other side and gulped. A large glob which stuck in his throat and he about choked, if not for Bernhardt slapping him hard on the back.
"My lad, don't think of leaving just yet! Your sweetheart isn't going anywhere, anytime soon!" he sang. Being closed in by the Titans, and all. As you seem to be in an awful hurry, perhaps now is a good time for you to enlighten us as to where these treasures are kept!"
All eyes honed on him. It was understandable that they wanted to know the general direction, in order to make their way there efficiently. For his part, Mathias no longer required them now that he was inside Quinta, but, he also couldn't leave them to their own devices anymore. He would accompany them to the end, wherever that led...
The chasm vanished, replaced by a long street. The street that would take them to the residential section of the District, to the east. Not far from where they currently stood.
"I see, closest to the Interior side. Obvious when you think about it," Bernhardt said with a hand to his chin after Mathias relayed this information to them, pondering something. After a moment, he nodded. "Meaning, it's the mansion. Your... father's." He got it in one guess.
"Yes."
"Even so, I imagine the mansion will be quite large. We'll need your help still, I'm afraid."
"Fine," he agreed.
"Good, lad! Good answer!" Bernhardt turned to the rest. "And now that we know where we're headed, I suggest we split up."
"Yes, easier to work that way," Klaus assented.
"Five of us all clumped together would only draw attention," Jarratt remarked.
Bernhardt nodded at them. "Would you two lads be kind enough to procure a wagon? We'll meet..." He launched into an accurate explanation of where the Kramer mansion was located. The former Military Police Brigade soldier turned outlaw seemed to know everything, and Mathias surmised then that he'd been high up in the branch before getting the boot, though whether it was of his own volition he didn't yet have a proper clue. Though, it brought to mind other things. Implications and assumptions he'd rather not think about at a time like this. "Just keep an eye out for the largest mansion on the street. We'll go on ahead and make preparations to load everything up. Nikki, you'll be with me and Mathias, lass."
"Sure."
Sounds like a plan, Boss."
Nikki was looking out at something, too preoccupied by whatever it was to pay much attention to what anyone was saying, but still managed a nod. A moment later she spit, her tongue sticking out from her hood as she appeared to catching raindrops. "Yuck!"
"Wonderful! Now then," Bernhardt faced him again. "Shall the three of us be off?"
As the five of them broke off into their respective groups, Mathias' eyes flicked over to Nikki, who came beside him behind Bernhardt. He suspected he'd never understand the way her brain worked, not in a hundred years.
And the same, perhaps, was true of Rita. Only until he reached her again, somewhere in this District that was so familiar yet now not, would he know for certain. If he truly had the nerve... or not.
