After a couple of hours he'd calmed down and could smell food being prepared. It was tempting to leave the room and see what she was doing but he had no idea when her dad was coming home and had no intention of putting either of them in jeopardy. The worst part was, try as he might, he wasn't able to come up with a better plan. It was clear that his only chance of escape was to go Outside. And if he was totally honest, he didn't really like the idea of going on his own either. For a start, he doubted that he'd be able to see the entrances without help, and for all her mysterious talk of places he'd never heard of she did sound rational and logical. Sam decided that instead of dismissing her as he'd done at first, he would at least try to find out a little more about her before making any decision. After all, if she was crazy, there was no way that he would want to be stuck on the Outside with her anyway.

She didn't return to the room until evening when she brought him a bowl of food. She handed it to him in silence and turned to leave again when he took her arm gently. "Thanks for the food. And I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to undermine you. I-I think your plan is a good one."

She looked at him hard for a moment before nodding. "My dad will be home soon so you have to stay in here. I have to eat with him but afterwards I'll come back so you can have the light on."

"Thanks." The light outside was already starting to dim so he took his bowl to eat near the window. The bowl contained a generous portion of rice, meat and a spicy sauce. He had no idea what was in the sauce or even what kind of meat it was but it was definitely one of the best meals he'd ever eaten in his life. Zeben had been many things, but a cook wasn't one of them. And in his solo life Sam hadn't exactly taken the time to learn a woman's work. Not when there were plenty of Transit Sector diners to fill his belly.

Later he heard voices and realized that her dad was back. Another hour or so passed before her door opened and he heard her shouting goodnight. It wasn't late but she was saying something about having a book to read.

This when she came in she turned on some music to mask any noises. Her face registered surprise that he'd washed his bowl and spoon of his own accord. But he was a man used to living alone. There was no woman in his life to clean up after him.

She sat on her bed and simply frowned at him for a couple of moments, looking as if she wanted to say something but not having the words. He didn't like it when she wasn't smiling. He needed to see that smile back on her face so he spoke first. "I really have thought about your plan and meant what I said when I told you I like it."

Her eyes widened. "You do?"

No. Not really. But he also knew that he didn't really have any other choice. He couldn't hide in this room forever and the second he went outside in this Sector his pale skin would ensure he'd stick out like a sore thumb and become the focus of the wrong kind of attention. "How long do you think it will take? To reach the Sea I mean."

She shrugged. "I don't know. Quinn was a baby when they made the journey and they travelled and stopped at other places over the years. It could be days, weeks or even months. I've no way of telling at this point because I don't know how far away we are in relation to it."

That sounded logical. He quietly ran several thoughts through his head. "We'll need equipment."

She nodded. "My family used to go camping a lot when I was growing up. I have a tent, things for sleeping and even lightweight travel rations. But I can't carry everything I'd need. The water filter alone takes up half a backpack but obviously it's essential. Plus I have money. I've been saving since the day I started earning."

Clearly she'd given this much more thought than he gave her credit for. But he also needed to think of himself. "And if we do this, when we get to the Sea I'm free to do what I like and go where I want?"

"Of course. My dream is to stay by the Sea. I don't expect it to be yours. You have your own new life to make and you can carry on travelling until you find the place where you want to permanently lay your head."

It was tempting…

Sam knew he was backed into a corner with his situation and right now anything was better than nothing. And staying here wasn't going to be a workable option. It was time to literally 'bite the bullet'.

"Okay… Then I'll do this with you. There's always risks but we're safer together and we both get what we want at the end."

A new life in a new place far away. It definitely was an appealing idea. Having had the afternoon to sit quietly and calm down and think about it, he'd decided this was actually a win-win situation. The Transit Highway was out of the question. Not only was he without a vehicle, the Highway was crawling with men who would be desperate for the bounty that his head now carried. This girl wanted to get away and so did he. Maybe this was the reason why he couldn't kill her.

Plus there was another thing that dawned on him while he was alone with his thoughts throughout the day. He wanted to be there to protect her for the journey. An Angel shouldn't be forced to do this on her own. She was Angel who saved his life and was now trying to find her wings. Who are you to deny her the opportunity? What if this was a gift from his sister?

He was embarrassed to admit that the best part of his acceptance was her smile. It made her face radiant and her eyes dance. If he'd known he could make her this happy he would have agreed straight away instead of being so belligerent. Exchanging angry words with her had made him feel bad. Normally nothing could make him feel bad. Until now he had no idea that taking on a new name also caused him to take on new emotions. The simple act of her smiling at something he'd said held power. It made him feel good. Zeben gave acknowledgement and even occasionally praise but he rarely smiled. His mom had smiled all the time. He associated warm smiles with her love. With his innocence. With good times.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Huh?"

"You were smiling. The kind of smile like you were remembering something good. A happy thought."

He wasn't good at sharing his thoughts but if he was going to be travelling with this girl he was going to learn to have to. Sam Smith sounded like the type of man who would confide in her. After all, there was going to be no-one else.

"I was thinking about my mother. She had a beautiful smile, just like you."

She totally ignored the compliment and looked at him seriously. "You must miss her."

"Yeah. I do. She gave great hugs and told great stories."

She simply nodded and started to look sad herself. "What about you? You only ever mention your dad."

"My mom... she'd dead too. She died when I was fourteen."

That surprised him. "I'm sorry. What happened?"

As soon as he asked the question he regretted it. Not a polite question to ask. That's the problem with being brought up in the environment that he was. There was no woman to soften the edges and to teach him the times when a little delicacy and tact would go a long way. "No. I shouldn't have said that. Please ignore me."

"It's okay. My story isn't an unusual one. Have you heard of the Hardness?"

"The Hardness? No."

"I didn't expect you would. The Hardness is a sickness which is common specifically in this Sector. It's the biggest cause of death in women here. Some statistics say it eventually claims the life of up to one in three."

"What does it do?"

"It affects the stomach and causes pain. Your stomach swells like you're pregnant but the rest of your body fades away. Then at the end the pain stops and it leaves you just enough time to say goodbye to your friends and family before it takes you for good."

"Isn't there a cure?"

"No. Doctors are looking but they haven't found one yet. It also doesn't help that all the doctors are men. They have other priorities. Somehow they forget that this is happening to their moms and sisters and daughters."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Well so am I. But nothing I can do can change that."

"Tell me about her. What was she like?"

Mercedes' smile turned into a sad one. "She was beautiful. She had glorious thick hair and she had the singing voice of an angel because she loved to sing. She was a midwife and all the Citizens loved her. My dad was heartbroken when she died and he's only just started to get himself back together again."

"So it's just you and your dad who live here now?"

"Yes. I have a younger brother but he's away at school training to be a Minister. It's his clothes that you're wearing now because he left most of his things here. I also have an older brother who's married. They share a small house with another couple but his wife is expecting their second baby. If I go then they could move in here. It would be good for them and good for dad. But that would never happen if I'm here. If I go it would actually make things easier for everybody. They don't have much money for rent and dad would be lonely in an empty house."

She went quiet for a moment and he left her with her thoughts while he had a few of his own. Then she suddenly perked up again. "Hey Sam, I got some stuff for you." She reached down to a bag which she'd dumped on the bed earlier in the day. I told dad I needed some personal items and went to the pharmacy. Now I can dress your wound properly. Plus I also took the liberty of buying some things for the trip." Putting a small first aid kit and some medications to the side she pulled out some dressings and antiseptic cream she removed the aloe vera and bandaged him properly.

When it was done he smiled at her gratefully. "Thank you Mercedes!"

She gasped in surprise. "Hey you got my name right!"

Of course he'd spent the entire afternoon practicing, putting together the syllables which would normally never be next to each other in his native accent. But again, the smile that he was rewarded with made everything worth it. For all she was doing for him, the least he could do was say her name correctly! "Thanks for making the effort Sam. I appreciate it."

The next couple of days were good. He was still trapped in the room on the floor but in all honesty the enforced rest did him good and allowed him to heal. In the evenings, after spending time with her dad, she would spend time with him and they would talk. Or rather, she would talk and he would little. Used to living a solitary life he had very little to say but was rapidly getting used to being referred to as Sam while Mercedes always had something to fill the silences. It was exhausting but also fascinating. While she was out or working during the day she pointed out her large collection of books. He'd smiled and nodded but was too embarrassed to let on that his lack of schooling meant that his reading skills were extremely poor. He hated books and sometimes still struggled with seemingly simple words. Mercedes, on the other hand, was a fountain of knowledge. She'd read every book she could get her hands on. She craved knowledge of the world around her and had taken work in the Transit Sector specifically because she wanted the opportunity to mix with and speak to other people who had travelled. Her understanding of geography and science both baffled and slightly intimidated him, but even when it felt like she was talking endlessly for hours, the lyrical quality of her voice captivated him in a way that it was impossible to explain.

But the day after that he nearly blew it.

It was morning and as usually she got to use the bathroom first. When she returned from the bathroom she caught him busy cleaning his gun. He didn't even need to look up to feel her disapproving stare.

"I'm not comfortable with that thing in here." Her voice was cold and hard.

He stared back at her. "Then I'll leave. It stays with me. I need it."

"You don't need it. Nobody needs weapons."

He said nothing. She didn't understand. There was no way a girl like her could possibly understand. The gun was an extension of his hand. It was all that he knew and his source of protection. But she was his only chance. The whole situation was messed up but somehow this girl and his gun with its six remaining bullets were his only chance of survival. The irony was that here was actually the safest place for him. Nobody would be looking for him in this Sector because nobody would expect him to be here.

"If it makes you feel better I won't kill you or your family."

"It doesn't." Her words were like ice.

She didn't speak to him again for the rest of the day. She hadn't out rightly told him to get rid of it but that was the implication.

But he couldn't.

After that setback it took a couple more days before she trusted him enough to let him in other rooms of the house while her dad was out. The living room was where she did her work, making custom made to measure dresses on the large sewing machine in the middle of the dining table. He would have to hide in her room when clients came to pick up their pieces, make payments or be measured up, but the rest of the time he would sit and watch television as she worked. The television fascinated him. Some of the shows were similar to the ones he had at home but everyone on it looked different. They were dark like the people of the Sector. There was nobody on the screen who looked like him. It was almost as if people like him didn't exist in their World.

Or maybe they didn't.

The fascination with the television didn't last, and before long he would pretend to watch the screen when really he was watching her work, her brow creased with concentration as swathes of beautifully colored fabric were passed under the machine or finished by hand. When it was time to cook he would stand in the kitchen with her, watching as she used spices he'd never seen before to effortlessly create delicious dishes.

The day after that was strange. She was up even earlier than usual and brought him a large breakfast and a sandwich wrapped up for later. "Today we'll be out all day so you'll have to stay in here."

"Going anywhere nice?"

"Today we have Worship. I wish I could make you come with us but obviously that's not possible."

It was a shame. He wasn't a Worship kind of a guy, but the dress she'd put on in her bathroom was so pretty that he would have followed her anywhere in it.

They came home late and she was in a serious mood when she returned, far less talkative. He would have liked to have known why but figured that's just the effect that Worship had on her. Maybe harboring a murderer in her bedroom was playing on her conscience and he didn't want to do anything to make her throw him out.

Because the passing of time made him more than willing to admit that he actually liked being around her.