Brenda soon felt lost as she followed Sanji and Simon through the dark tunnels. Perhaps under normal circumstances, when she wasn't so overwhelmed, she'd have kept better track of where they were. She'd likely even have drawn herself a little map in her notebook. But she didn't have her notebook, and she didn't know if she'd ever be able to refer to anything about herself as normal again.
At last, they reached a ladder going up, where everyone stopped. "You may go first," Sanji told her.
Brenda fumbled for a few moments with the blanket she had wrapped around herself, sliding it off of her shoulders to tuck it beneath her arms like a very long bath towel. Still, it was a bit long and would make climbing the ladder awkward. She did the best she could, eager to get out of the darkness and into the . . . moonlight. Sanji and Simon turned their backs as she climbed, until she'd reached the top.
She had climbed up in the middle of the street, which thankfully was fairly empty at that time of night, aside from having cars parked up and down it in every available space. She could see Simon's apartment close by.
After another moment, Simon and Sanji had climbed out as well.
"I had best be returning to my shop," said Sanji. He came to stand before Brenda, a grave expression on his face. "I am sorry for what happened to you," he told her.
"Thank you," she said in a soft voice she hardly recognized. She wasn't sure what else she was supposed to say, or what else Sanji could say to her.
"Come on," Simon said gently, leading her around to the back of his building. She climbed up the fire escape ahead of him and then struggled to get through the open window without losing the blanket she had wrapped around herself.
There was a board nailed to the inside of the open window, in theory so that it would shut out the sunlight completely when it was closed. The open window worried Brenda a great deal. What if someone knew Simon had helped to save her? Brenda always locked the door to her apartment and men had still gotten inside. And Simon left his window open?
The apartment was quite dark once Brenda had gotten inside. Her eyes adjusted quickly. The room was cluttered with books. Simon seemed to have fit them into every space he could manage. A laptop computer sat on a small kitchen table. There was an open closet next to the dead bolted front door, and Brenda could see that no one was hiding in it. The bathroom door was open as well, although Brenda couldn't see far in. Someone could be hiding in there. There was one other closed door that Brenda assumed led to Simon's bedroom. Someone could be hiding in there.
Brenda supposed she would be sleeping on the couch that sat against the wall next to a tall book shelf.
After Simon crawled through the window, he reached out for Brenda's wrist, examining the handcuffs. He held a small pin between his fingers and began working to unlock them. "You can take a shower," Simon told her as the cuffs snapped open and Brenda pulled her wrist free. "There are clean towels in the cabinet."
She nodded gratefully, fairly certain that she smelled terrible. In addition to still feeling bruised and sore, Brenda knew that she was filthy. She needed to wash away her blood and other fluids, in addition to the grime left when that man had violated her. It made her skin crawl to thinking about it.
She approached the bathroom cautiously, aware that perhaps her behavior would appear silly to Simon, but the bathroom would be an easy place for someone to hide. She reached in from outside to flick the light on, and then jerked her arm back out as she peered in. The bath tub's shower curtain was closed. She moved in slowly, as quietly as possible, and then yanked the curtain aside and leaped back out the bathroom door. After she was satisfied that it was empty, she went in, avoiding looking back at Simon as she closed and locked the door behind her.
She allowed the blanket to fall to the floor at her feet as she stepped to the tub to turn on the faucet. The fuzzy blue bathroom mat felt warm between her toes. She could hear what sounded like some sort of game show on a television somewhere above her. Simon's walls seemed much thinner than Brenda's own had been.
The noise was muffled when Brenda turned on the water and stepped into the shower. Soap was easy to find, and Brenda quickly set about the task of vigorously scrubbing the filth away from her skin, and then rubbing shampoo into her scalp. She repeated the actions more than once, unsatisfied. While her skin looked clean, she felt as if the grime was still there. The hot water ran out before Brenda felt she was finished, and she was forced to admit that soap was not capable of cleansing her the way she needed. Defeated, she sank to the floor of the tub and began to weep. She'd lost everything. Her body, her dignity, and her life. What did she have left?
As she rose to her feet and reached over to turn off the water she remembered that she had nothing to wear. She didn't own a single thing anymore. Of all the things she'd lost, she'd taken her clothes the most for granted. Uncertain what she was going to do, she remained in the shower for several more minutes.
She knew she couldn't hide in Simon's bathroom forever. Brenda shut the water off and sluggishly climbed out, dried herself off, and then found a comb. She painstakingly went about combing through the tangles in her hair, and then considered her options for modesty. She didn't want to walk out of there in only a towel. Simon had of course seen her in less, but that circumstance had been beyond her control. She needed her modesty. It felt like a sort of armor to her.
She looked down at the blanket she'd left on the floor. It had been wrapped around her, and was therefore dirty, but perhaps the other side of it, that which had been on the outside, would be okay. She could at least use that to get out of the bathroom, and then ask Simon if he had anything she could borrow to wear. She lifted it up and after careful examination, wrapped it around herself, dirty side out.
She peered out the bathroom door, and saw Simon seated in front of his computer at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette. There was also a black, lacy dress laid out on the couch. Brenda walked out slowly, studying the long, lacy dress before picking it up and draping it over her arm. "Did you have a girlfriend?" she asked.
Simon looked up at her, taking a drag off of his cigarette and blowing out the smoke slowly, shaking his head. "That belonged to an acquaintance of mine," he explained.
"Oh. Thank you." Brenda hesitated, watching him for a moment. "I'm grateful for what you've done," she told him.
"You're welcome. Let me know if there's anything else you need."
She walked back to the bathroom to put on the dress. It fit her fairly well. Not perfectly, but well enough. It was so long and lacy, and it reminded her of a wedding dress. It even had its own veil, which she opted not to wear. Something about the dress seemed symbolic. The black wedding dress. It symbolized a beginning. And an ending.
Brenda looked at herself in the mirror and thought she looked like a completely different person. The black dress made her pale skin appear even paler. She didn't think her freckles were as apparent either, as she studied herself. Still there, but somewhat faded. Had death done that to her? Her red hair, which she always wore up in some way hung around her face, falling well past her shoulders.
She felt self-conscious as she came back out of the bathroom to find Simon still seated at the computer. His eyes were on her as she stepped into his view, and she wished she could tell what he was thinking. "It's probably a good time to you to have your first feeding lesson," he said. "I can tell you're still in pain, and that will help you to heal."
Brenda nodded. Blood. She would have to drink blood.
"You won't need to kill in order to feed," Simon told her, calming the worry that had been just about to come off of Brenda's lips. "You, in fact, are young enough that you can sustain yourself entirely on animals for now. As you get older, you'll find that no longer enough for you, and you will need to feed on humans like I have to. It's something that you'll need to know how to do now. Besides, Denver isn't an easy place to find a lot of animals to feed on."
Brenda nodded silently.
"Liz's club will be a good place to start. She's one of us," Simon explained. "Her club is also her main means of sustaining herself."
"Oh," Brenda said to herself. "So that's why she was so nice to me . . ."
Simon frowned at her for a moment, and then shook his head. "She wasn't necessarily considering you for feeding purposes. She treats everyone at her club well."
"Okay." Brenda was glad, somehow, to know there was a woman among them. It might be a comfort to find herself a female friend she could talk to, about things that a man wasn't as likely to understand.
"You're going to need to try not to be recognized," Simon said, looking her over. "You do look fairly different already, but you should put some make-up on as well. I have some in there. Sometimes I wear it to fit in with the goths. It makes feeding easier."
"The police will be looking for me," Brenda agreed, obediently allowing Simon to lead her to the bathroom, where he opened up a drawer and began pulling out make-up far darker than any she would ever have considered wearing before. It was a good thing. She would look very different.
She spent several minutes trying to apply the make-up in a way that went against everything she'd ever been taught about cosmetics. Rather than trying to bring out her natural beauty, she went for stark contrast, making her face paler, smearing her lips with black lipstick, and applying heavy amounts of eyeliner around her eyes, and then putting on even more at Simon's prompting.
"Are you ready now?" Simon asked, nodding in approval.
"I am."
Simon led her back to the window, where Brenda hesitated.
"Do you always use the window? Aren't you worried about someone getting in here when you leave it open?"
Simon paused and turned to look at her. "I prefer not letting my neighbors see all of my comings and goings. And besides, there really isn't anything much in here to steal other than my lap top."
"It isn't robbery I'm worried about."
Simon's expression softened just a bit as he looked at her. "You'll learn soon enough that our clan is very difficult to ambush," he said gently, comfortingly. "Our senses are very sharp. If you take a moment to listen, you'll notice you can even hear the dog sleeping in the apartment above this one."
Brenda found it easy to do as he said, extending her senses, allowing each sound to come to her more clearly than she'd ever experienced in life. She could hear soft movement above, and the occasional whine of a small animal. She found herself smiling just a little. Maybe she wasn't as likely to be caught by surprise the next time someone came for her. "What is our clan?" she asked.
"We're called Mekhet," Simon told her. "Now, let's get going."
