Ellie walks across the street toward the plaza. It's cool, but warm compared to Jackson, and there's not a cloud in the blue sky. They got some breakfast down at a barracks mess hall a few blocks away with the Fireflies. It was decent fare. No encounters with Parker or any Firefly leadership either, so that's good news. They seem content to let them fuck off now that they're in the city.
It's about nine in the morning, so plenty of time left in the day. Oh, sorry, 0900. Ellie rolls her eyes.
She looks behind her. Abby is following looking humorless as usual, but she can't conceal the curiosity in her eyes. It's the first time she's ever been in a FEDRA facility, after all. She wasn't likely to, ever, except in these strange circumstances. Abby looks at her.
"What are we doing, exactly, Ellie?" she asks.
"What else, dude? Looking around. You ever been to San Antonio?"
"Not lately."
They walk back into the plaza. Like the day before, there are rows of canopies and tables with people hawking goods. There's also the smell of meat cooking, and vendors selling bread and fruits. It's colorful, clean. There's no trash anywhere and it would appear that FEDRA is even mowing the strips of lawn between the sidewalks. There are flowers in the beds.
Fuck her, but it's nicer than Jackson.
"Where the hell are we?" she mutters.
Abby looks at her. She doesn't say anything, but the look on her face echoes the sentiment.
They look at someone selling planter pots, and then necklaces, and then neckties. Neckties.
She stops someone, who looks at her with muted curiosity. Not the curiosity you give a total outsider. Just someone you don't know stopping you in the street. She'd ditched her empty holster and put on the nicest clothes she'd brought. She still looks drab compared to the locals, whose colorful clothes smack of good washing and maybe even an iron. Some of them looking fucking new.
She asked them about where to get the slips everyone's trading around. This does, of course, reveal that she's not from the city, but the man scratches his head and takes it in stride. He politely explains about the exchange, where you can trade valuables at FEDRA rates. She asks if they can take gold.
That raises his eyebrows, but he says they would, but she might get a better rate from Larry down at his stall. "Little better, anyway."
She bids him farewell and wanders over to said stall. She chats with him for a minute, then pulls out a gold chain with a cross on the end. This gets his interest and seems to alarm Abby. Neither one needs to know she got it from Lyle.
Larry's initial offer is a hundred slips. A hundred. Each one being supposedly good for a meal–very comparable to Jackson's system of currency–that seems like a hell of a lot. She doesn't reveal this, of course, and talks him up to one forty. Then she says she's got a mull it over, leaving Larry with a fairly sour expression as she walks away.
"What was that?" asks Abby.
"What do you mean?"
"Why do all that if you're not gonna trade?"
"I guess you'll see."
They wander around the plaza for a while longer until Ellie finds what she's looking for.
A well-dressed young man exchanges a few words with a pretty girl in a pink dress that also looks like it's new, it's in such good shape.
"Give me a second here, Abs," says Ellie.
"What?"
"Just check out some stalls or something. I need to do this solo."
"What exactly?"
"I'll catch you in a minute." Ellie moves toward the guy just as his girlfriend or wife or whatever goes over to look at some fruit at a nearby stall, and Ellie approaches him. She hopes he's the faithful type.
"Good day, there."
He's surprised to see her, and unlike the guy from before, seems to clock that she's particularly out of place.
"Good day, ma'am," he says politely.
"Nice day for a stroll, isn't it?"
He looks around. "Yeah, of course."
"With fine company, no less."
He shoots a glance at his girl, and smirks a little. He nods. "That's right."
"I wonder if you might be able to help me."
He frowns just slightly. "Well, what's your need?"
"You see, I just came to town, in the company yesterday. We're here for a short time. Nonetheless, I find myself in the need of some slips to get by."
Some thoughts pass across his face, but in the end he just nods. "I suppose so."
"So I'm looking to trade for some."
"Well, there's the exchange down Edison that way…"
"I heard about that. And I may pay them a visit. But I figured I'd ask some locals first."
"About what, exactly?"
"About this," she says, casually pulling the gold chain and cross out and hanging it over her fingers.
Just like she hoped, his eyes lock onto it and his features slacken.
"Well…" he seems a little embarrassed, but his interest is obvious. "Well… you could talk to Larry about something like that."
"I talked to Larry," she says, "and he made his offer. But you see I'm a shrewd trader. Lots of practice."
He rubs his jaw, still staring at the necklace. He looks around, as if to see who's watching. He glances at his girl, who's still occupied browsing apples. He looks back at her, more keenly this time. "Well, what are you thinking exactly?"
"I could do two fifty for it, right now."
He sucks in a short breath through his nose. It's half the price of similar pieces she just saw at Larry's. She knows it's a good deal.
"Well, you…" he chuckles. "You caught me by surprise with that one…"
"No pressure, I can look around–"
"No," he says. Reaching into his pocket and deftly pulling out an old fashioned leather fold. He flips through it, counts it off, and offer a stack to Ellie. She takes it, and lays the gold chain into his open palm in a neat little pile.
"That could make a nice surprise, eh?" says Ellie.
"Oh," he says smiling wide in spite of himself. "Oh, I should say so. Well, I should really thank you, uh…?"
"Ellie," she says, offering her hand.
"Elliot." He shakes it.
She walks back over to Abby, pretending to look at wood-carved cooking utensils. Her nervousness is comically obvious to Ellie. She smacks her back. "Ease up, dude."
"What the hell was that?" Abby whispers.
"I just made a sale. I knew you'd be weird, so…"
Abby frowns. "How much?"
"Two fifty."
Abby gawks. "Just like that?"
"I have some gifts, Abby. Come on, let's get out of this peacock show."
They leave the plaza and Ellie asks a guard about a map of the city.
"Of the ward, you mean?"
She says she doesn't know and anyway he just directs her to the same exchange the others were talking about.
It ends up being a police department they converted some time ago. Which Ellie doesn't really like, but it's actually busy inside. From the looks of it, a lot of official trade goes on here. Guys left and right in sportcoats, even though it's hardly even cool outside anymore. They do have maps, but only for Wards 1 and 2, on the same fold. Like the other wards don't exist?
There's a chalk-written tradeboard above one of the desks with a line behind it. Ellie notes the price of gold at 20 slips a gram. Which is pitiful compared to what she just got.
"What the hell is going on here?" Abby asks her as they're walking down the sidewalk away from the trade station.
Ellie looks at her. "What do you mean?"
"I mean what the hell is this place? I've never been in a FEDRA zone but this is about the last thing I imagined."
Ellie doesn't say anything.
"Those guys… all that trading. 'Two fronts on Walter's House.' 'Five crates by end of year.' It's like… who are they even trading for? It's impersonal, completely. Like it's just business, but I mean where is the shit even coming from? All this food? The clothes?"
"I noticed."
"Is this what Boston was like?" Abby asks.
"No, not even close."
"Then what–"
"I'm not sure either, Abby, but I've got other things on my mind."
They walk down some more streets. The high-walled edge of the zone is visible from here, sheer steel-latticed concrete offering contrast to the historical brown brick buildings. But everything's clean, all the way up to the wall. The asphalt is cracked, but swept of all debris. The sidewalks are a smooth gray. Water-washed, if Ellie's any judge. They pass a couple three story brownstone buildings with big stoops. And a park with flat, green lawns and brown-leaved trees.
Now Ellie sees a different boundary. A twelve foot chain-linked fence with razor wire coils across the top, like some of the fences she's seen around prisons across the country. There's a gate. She walks that way.
"Where we going, Ellie?" Abby asks.
"Just asking questions. We aren't doing anything wrong."
There's a couple guards out front of the gate, with rifles. When they get closer, Ellie sees a guard box by the boom gate stopping vehicle traffic. The guards eye them with interest.
"Can we help you?" one of them asks when they get within twenty feet.
"Just got questions." Ellie holds her map in front of her like she's lost.
This does the trick and he eyes her with muted dissatisfaction, but lets her approach.
"Are we close to Howard Street?" she asks him.
He appraises her for a second. He's got close cropped blonde hair and looks like he wants to be taken seriously. "You're one of the outsiders."
"Yeah. We came in yesterday."
"What are you doing down here? They said you'd stay out by the barracks."
"We're not Fireflies. We just came with them. I have papers."
She was waiting for him to say she didn't need them, but he doesn't stop her and she unfolds the slip Malta gave her and hands it to him.
He looks it over humorlessly. He hands it back to her. "That's about right, but this only authorizes you to move in Wards 1 and 2. This gate leads to Ward 3."
Ellie looks over his shoulder.
"So you have no business here. If you're looking for Howard Street, it's back the way you came and then West. You take a left, there. The theater is across from Jefferson Bank."
Ellie's got a few questions bubbling in her head, but this guy seems pretty disinterested in further conversation. "Thanks, man," is all she says.
"You have a good day now."
She and Abby head back up the way they came, and follow his direction West.
"The theater," Abby grumbles.
"Yeah," says Ellie. "Hey, we want people to think we're tourists. Not that they get many…" Ellie scratches her shoulder. "Yeah, I'll just go ahead and say it, Abby, this place is kinda creepin' me out."
"No kidding."
"What did you see back there?"
"What?"
"Behind the gate."
"Oh…" Abby frowns, thinking. "Didn't see no fucking flowers, I'll tell you that."
"Yeah."
"Apparently FEDRA don't budget water for lawns outside of Ward 1."
Ellie had seen the same. Unwashed asphalt and concrete had lead to unmowed strips of dry, yellow grass in front of low, dingy buildings, which had been boarded up. The grass was brown and dead looking.
"You see the smoke?" Ellie asks.
Abby looks at her, then thinks about it. "Factories, I guess? A power plant maybe?"
"Something. Don't see any plumes like that over here. You see those guys?"
Abby frowns. "Who?"
"Down at the corner, by that big building, looked like a factory or warehouse."
Abby's brows twitch. "I saw them, but they were like ants."
"All I can tell you is they weren't half as well dressed as our polite company in here." Their coats had been drab, patched. Old clothes. Standard post-outbreak stuff.
"Damn. You got good eyes, then."
"Yes, sir. Didn't stop them getting cigarettes somewhere, though."
"You saw that, too?"
Ellie nods.
Out from the maze of commercial buildings, a lower building comes into view. It's got low FEDRA barricades placed around it. No guards, but the message is pretty clear.
"What's that?" Ellie asks.
Abby squints. "I think it's the Alamo."
"What's that?"
"It's like an old fort. San Antonio is famous for it."
They stop at the sidewalk behind one of the barricades. There's a lot of bushes and big trees, Ellie can't see too far inside. She can see an old, sand-colored stone brick building with carved columns out front. A second glance tells you it is very, very old. She sees a couple plaques and standing signs you see around tourist locations.
"Ellie, let's not linger here, yeah?"
"Why not? We're not doing anything."
"Cause I know after a minute or two you're gonna get some ideas about going inside."
"Psh."
"Ellie–"
"What kind of fort? Like civil war, or?"
"I think more like war with the natives."
"Damn…"
"Ellie, seriously, can we go?"
"Alright, alright."
They head past the old building. They come up on Howard Street and take a left like the guard said.
"You were right, though, I was starting to get ideas."
Abby gives her a sharp look.
"I'm just fucking with you, dude."
A couple blocks down Howard Street they encounter another high chain link fence, with a guard station and everything. Only this time, the boom is up and there are no guards in sight. As they pass through, Ellie notices the razor wire had been cut from the tops of the fence twenty feet in either direction. They pass through and no passerby pays them any mind.
"This is Ward 2, then," says Abby.
Ellie nods.
It looks much like Ward 1, really. The trees on the street are being taken care of. They pass a green park where children are playing at a playground while their parents watch. There's an old cathedral where it appears some kind of service is being held. There's an organ playing. That stops Ellie for a second.
Ellie stares at the weathered tan stones, the cross on top of the peaked roof. The instrument is powerful. The vibrations travel through the thick stone walls of the cathedral. She can even feel them in her feet. The tune is solemn, even kinda melancholy sounding. The only other time she heard a church organ that worked was in Boston, and it broke when she was ten and they never fixed it.
"Ellie…"
This time she doesn't say anything, she just keeps walking.
The noise starts to get louder and as they turn onto Houston Street they see a crowd milling about up and down the street.
A large neon sign in front of the building reads Majestic. The sign reads Macbeth at 1pm and 7pm.
"Friggin' Shakespeare?" says Ellie.
Abby looks at her in confusion.
"It's a play," says Ellie.
"He's really famous, isn't he?" Abby asks.
Ellie gives her a look.
"Didn't teach a lot of literary history in the Fireflies, Ellie."
"Yeah. Yeah, he's famous." Ellie looks around at the crowd. She sees suspenders, peacoats, ties and bowler hats. "What the fuck…" she mutters under her breath.
There's a carved marble ticket booth out front, which is manned, but they don't stop her as she approaches the front doors of the theater so she goes inside. Her jaw drops.
Hand-smoothed plaster covers every wall. Every doorway, every arch is cornered by hand carved wood in elaborate, whorling patterns. There are a series of posters for old shows and things, all encased in frames of rich, dark wood. The ceilings are vaulted, each vault set in with huge wood panels of painted and carved wood, patterns running across the ceiling and down onto more dark wood columns that run to the ground. At the other end of the entry salon are doors leading to the theater proper.
Her gut turns as she remembers the theater in Seattle.
This time she pulls back first. "Let's go, Abby."
Abby is gawking. She looks at Ellie and says nothing, following her out.
"That was crazy," says Abby.
"Yeah, I know."
"Imagine the time it would take just to clean all that."
"Yep."
There's an enticing smell of baking bread. She looks to the left and notices they're passing a bakery. The Arroyo.
She stares skeptically at the piles of bread behind the counter. Then she sees a face she knows.
It's Jeremy. He's wearing a white apron and he's got flour on his forearms. He glances up, and they make eye contact.
He's as surprised as her for a second, then he offers a subtle shake of his head. Without missing a beat, Ellie keeps walking. She notes they close soon, based on their sign.
"Thought you were hungry for a second," says Abby.
"Nah." She tells Abby what just happened.
Abby looks over her shoulder. "So what… were you–"
"We're gonna check this out, take a break," she says.
She follows a sign next to some stone steps that reads 'River Walk Entrance.' Down the steps, they do indeed encounter a quietly bubbling green river passing down between two sidewalks. Ellie stops and stares. She's never seen such a well-behaved river before.
"This has to be man-made or something," she says.
Abby looks down at the water, then up the channel. "Yeah… it must be an aqueduct or something."
"Are you kidding?" says Ellie, unable to contain her excitement. "This is the nicest aqueduct I've ever seen."
The sides of the walkway are lined with planter beds filled with succulents and more flowers. In the distance, Ellie can see storefronts and tables even along the edge of the water.
"Fuck!" Ellie says.
They walk a short distance up the channel. They run into another ward boundary. Above the river, there's the high chain link fence. Down here at the water level, FEDRA or someone installed a wall-to-wall iron bar gate that extends right down into the water itself. Ellie can see the slime and mold growing slowly up the bars.
There's a footbridge, so they cross it and walk back the other side.
"This is crazy," says Ellie.
"San Antonio is actually known for this," says Abby.
"What?"
"This, yeah. It's called the Riverwalk."
"I put that together."
They find a wide stone rim of a planter that serves as a bench, and they sit down. Must be close to noon by now.
"What are we doing out here, Ellie?"
Ellie's eyes search about. She looks back the way they came, and back to the gating at the boundary of the ward. She thinks. "For now, we're waiting."
"Waiting makes me hungry."
"Give it a few," says Ellie.
Abby pulls out some nuts and starts munching on them.
They wait there for half an hour. Ellie made sure they were sitting within sight of the entrance, which is within sight of the bakery. Long shot maybe, but discretion is worth losing a little time.
The sun's out of sight behind a building, but the riverwalk is still lit by the reflected light off the opposite buildings. It's almost cold down by the water, but the weather is still very mild. With no one else around, the only sound is the water babbling gently in the stone basin.
Just when Ellie is thinking of getting up and moving on, a man's shadow appears in front of them and she hears him descending the steps.
Jeremy doesn't bother greeting them, as he sits down next to Ellie. Abby stares.
"Not a bad city you guys got yourselves, here," says Ellie.
"Only one I know," says Jeremy, looking out over the water.
"I must have gotten your attention last night," says Ellie.
He looks at her.
"We secure here?" she asks him.
He glances around briefly. "Good enough. Not many folks come down here this time of day, this time of year."
"You mull over my offer?" Ellie asks.
"Probably, if I'm sitting here." Jeremy holds out his hand.
Ellie eyes him. "You know I've come upon some slips. We can arrange–"
"I don't want slips."
"I give you this ring, you tell me everything I need to know. I have a notion what it's worth around here."
He gives her a shrewd look, then he glances away. "Fine."
She plucks it from her pocket and drops it into his open hand. He picks it up and looks at it more closely, now that it's daylight out. "I'll be…" he says. He slips it into his pocket. "Well, beautiful, what can I do for you?"
Ellie just stares at him for a second. "Don't call me that."
He snorts, but he looks a little chagrined.
"You move around the wards," says Ellie.
He looks at her.
"You said only people in the 'upper wards' call it San Antonio," Ellie continues.
"That's right, Ellie. You saw my job."
"What, you deliver bread?"
"Damn straight."
"Yeah… yeah you do, don't you. You got a pass, or a badge, or…?"
"Don't worry about my papers. What, you're trying to get into the other wards?"
"Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. Why don't you tell me a little about what you do?"
"What? I told you."
"No, the other stuff."
His look hardens. "What are you getting at?"
Now Ellie snorts. "I think you're moving more than bread," she says, thumbing the lapel of his nice peacoat, "and I want you to say it. Cause what I'm gonna tell you is–you could say–a little revealing and I want to be sure I can trust you."
He shakes his head, then he draws a breath. "I move goods that you can't get on the open market to places you're not supposed to be able to sell them."
"Okay, easy. What, gun parts, drugs, or something?"
"I don't touch drugs. That shit is sticky as fuck and gets anyone who tries it gets killed."
"Yeah, the rich kids aren't good at keeping their mouths shut, huh?"
"Rich kids," he mutters. "Yeah, that's about right."
"How many wards are there?"
"Four. One through four. And the outers."
"Outers?"
He sighs. He looks up the steps again but the riverwalk is deserted right now. Macbeth must be a hell of a show.
"Alright, Ellie, just listen. Wards 1 and 2 are where 'inducts'-if we ever got any–immigrate into the city. It's fleeced with guards, though, and looking at the wrong person the wrong way can get you written up. That happens a couple times–whether or not you actually did anything wrong–you get moved 'temporarily' down a ward.
"Everything is different in Wards 3 and 4. Ward 3 is–"
"Factory work. Manufacturing."
He's got a bit of a sour look. "Yeah, you could say that. As a matter of fact, it's pretty much only ever called Works out here."
"Dangerous?"
"Not usually. Hard work and the pay sucks ass compared to upper wards, though. You get in trouble in Ward 3, you get moved down to Ward 4, and that is dangerous. Place is a fucking open air prison. The worst work, the worst pay. You're eating slips."
"What does that mean?"
He frowns in confoundment. "It's… Ellie, you don't get it. You know our slips?"
"Yeah."
"Good for a meal, right?"
"Yeah, that's the point."
"Is it? You can't get a meal in upper wards for less than ten slips. You understand? Out in Works, two or three. And the difference shows. You understand? Out in Lines you're eating one slip meals. Gruel, dried meat. Fucking subsistence. Unless you're part of the families."
Ellie's features are hard. She nods. "Tell me more about Ward 4."
"Guards everywhere, but ain't nothing like law and order. They move around in bands, body armor, humvees, all that. They see something they don't like, they shake you down. They kill anyone who resists. But even then, it's the families that really run things there. The guards just make the streets appear free of crime and take bribes off the families to leave them their turf."
Ellie nods. "Sounds like New York."
"Bull fucking shit. You been there?"
"I was there for a few days a couple years ago. Doesn't matter. What happens if you get in trouble in Ward 4? They just kill you?"
He snorts humorlessly. "If you fight back, yeah. Else you get put on Routes."
"What's that?"
"You get collared and taken out to work projects outside the city. Farming, mostly. Construction."
A dark look passes over Ellie's face. "Beets."
"What?"
"Doesn't matter. I suspect the death rate is pretty high for people on routes? Between infected and whoever else."
"Whoever else, yeah, Ellie," says Jeremy. "Whoever else being Dawson and his horde of thugs. They raid constantly. Never in force, never taking over the operation, they just run caravans off the road and raid cellars and stuff. Always in a different place. Keeps FEDRA busy non-stop. Guerilla tactics, usually. Brass can't stamp them out. Plus they recruit from who knows where. Anyone comes to the region, maybe."
"We saw some of them on the way in, I suspect," says Ellie. "Guy in a pickup truck, spotting us from the top of a hill."
"You're lucky you're fucking alive."
"Well, we were in one of those armored caravans, so."
"Right… what the fuck is a Firefly doing asking me these kinds of questions?"
Ellie shakes her head. "Not a Firefly." She takes a breath, looking out over the reflection of the sun in the tumbling water. "I'm looking for someone."
"In the city? Who the hell would you know out here?"
"I have some intel." Ellie's voice is a little dry. "A letter. From my dad."
"Your dad's from out here?"
"He's long gone. I'm looking for his daughter." She meets his eyes. "Adeline."
His eyes flit. "What's her last name?"
Ellie screws up her face. She remembers what Malta said about names in San Antonio. "Dunn."
"No, shit," says Jeremy, covering his smile with his hand. "You know Addie, you're… you're fucking Lyle's kid."
She scowls.
"So he has another daughter…"
"Another?"
"Aside from Addie."
"You know her?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I know her, Ellie."
Ellie's heart skips. "She's alive?"
"Oh, she's alive."
"Where?"
"Lines, where his ass left her."
"What the fuck is Lines?"
"Ward 4, what everyone calls it."
Ellie's breathing faster now, she can't help it. "Tell me everything about her."
He's got this big smile now that makes Ellie want to deck him in the fucking face.
"Tell me."
"Okay, okay," he says, hands up. "She's alive and well in Ward 4, and she ain't going anywhere, ever."
"Explain."
"She's under the protection of the Murder Doctors."
"The who?"
"The Murdochs. Tied for biggest family in Lines. See, once upon a time, Lyle worked for them. Running I don't even know what, honestly. He was good, though, I guess. He could get things anywhere. He was comfortable. I was a kid then, barely working scuff jobs. He got into some trouble or something, a guard got killed and Lyle jumped town with his kid. One of them. Left Addie and his old lady. His lady got put on Routes after that happened, and Addie's been in 'custody' of the Murdochs ever since."
"What does she do?"
"What does she do? You mean is she a hooker?"
Ellie stands up, arms tense, rounding on him.
He raises his hands, defensive. "Alright, alright, sorry. I just… you know, I didn't expect to run into her sister out here."
Ellie takes a couple more breaths, spits into the river and sits back down, not looking at him.
"I don't know what she does, but she works for the Murders, alright? The fact that she's been in Lines since Lyle left like… fuck, ten years ago or something, that tells you a lot."
"What does it tell you?"
"That she's smart enough not to get put on Routes despite what happened to her mom."
Ellie winces. "I don't suppose her mom is still around?"
Jeremy snorts softly but he responds in a serious tone. "No one lasts ten years on Routes."
"No," says Ellie, "they don't, do they?"
There's an uncomfortable silence.
"How do I get to Addie, Jeremy?"
Jeremy makes a helpless gesture. "I don't…"
"You told me you move around the city."
"Yeah, I do, you don't."
"You must have a truck for the bread or something."
"Fuck off with that, Ellie, that's not part of the deal."
"Then tell me what you know, Jeremy."
"You won't like it."
"What I like isn't your concern, Jeremy."
"Shit…" He rubs his patchy beard. "Look, I'm not the king of smugglers or anything like that, but I'll tell you… I know some people use the sewers to move between wards."
Ellie frowns. "Is that safe?"
"Safer than climbing the fucking fence, that's for sure."
"There guards down there?"
"Oh, I seriously doubt it."
"What about under the water gates?"
He stares at her. He looks up the riverwalk. "Are you fucking serious?"
"Just understand the answer to your question is that nothing is gonna keep me from getting to Adeline."
He stares in disbelief. "I don't… I don't know if anyone does that, but that shit is dangerous, Ellie."
Ellie nods.
"And I can tell you that even if the guards don't catch you in transit, if you're walking around soaking wet or smelling like the fucking sewer, that's more than enough to get you picked up. And… as someone who just got into the city I seriously don't think you want anything to do with that. Especially considering what you're trying to do."
Ellie stands up.
"Damn, Ellie," Jeremy continues, "you realize even if you get to her… how do you think you're gonna get out?"
"Like everyone else does, probably."
"In a fucking casket?"
"Thanks for your help, Jeremy." Ellie walks by him and starts moving down the riverwalk toward the barracks. Abby's awkward, and it takes her a second to get up and start following. "Oh," says Ellie, "one last thing. I need a map of the lower wards."
Jeremy just stares.
"Can you do that?"
"I guess."
"Drop it here tomorrow, then. And you can consider the deal done."
"Shit…" is all he says.
They walk off under the shadow of a bridge.
Abby drops her pack by her bedroll. She's been frowning for half an hour. She rubs her forehead.
They had no issues whatsoever walking back from the riverwalk. Ellie had hardly said a word. She was obviously lost in thought.
Abby looks over at Ellie. She's still somewhere else, standing by her bedroll and staring into the corner, brow creased. She glances Abby's way. "That was good." Ellie rubs her nose. "That was good progress today."
"Yeah, it was, wasn't it?"
Ellie looks a question at her.
"And you stumbled on Jeremy so quick… how many people would have had the info that you're looking for?"
"I could tell he wasn't an upper wards kind of guy."
"How?"
"I could just tell. Something wrong, Abby?"
Abby pushes a breath out through her nose. She looks around. "It's just…" She massages her left knuckles with her right hand. "I guess I didn't think your lead would come up with something… and so fast."
"You thought I was lying?"
Abby looks up sharply, the frown creeping back in. "No, Ellie, I thought you were… overly optimistic. But, shit, your sister is here and now we even know where she is."
"Yeah. Good progress."
Abby shakes her head. "I'm just kind of in disbelief."
"You know I wouldn't have done this without good reason." Ellie's got his hard look on her face. Full serious. Rare for Ellie. And she's been like that a lot lately. She's never like this with Abby, not unless they're out on patrol, which is hardly ever anymore. Abby's not used to it.
But of course, given these developments, it does make sense.
"Yeah, yeah, I know, Ellie."
"You thought it would all come up empty."
"I thought…" Yeah, she did think that. "I just didn't think…"
"I get it. It's been real for me, now it's getting real for you, too."
That does more or less describe it.
"We're getting close," Ellie continues. "I meant what I said. Neither of us belong here. We're going to get out of San Antonio as soon as possible."
Abby nods.
"Which means we're gonna move soon."
"Okay."
"Jeremy delivers that map in the morning, and we're gonna see about getting into Ward 4 tomorrow."
"How?" Abby waits for her to say 'under the river.'
"We can talk about that."
"And then what do we do?"
Now Ellie frowns, eyes searching. "I need to see her."
"Ellie, you heard what Jeremy said."
"I know what he said–"
"One of the biggest families in Ward 4. She's not just going to be unprotected. What, are you hoping to just catch her in the market?"
"No. We can't risk being seen."
"Then what the hell–"
"Whatever we have to, Abby." Her eyes are like stone.
Abby grimaces.
"I have to talk to her, Abby. I can't just sneak her a note. She won't leave with a stranger. Would you? I need to see her, explain everything, then we can talk about next steps."
"What if she doesn't want to go?"
"She will," says Ellie, and for some reason, it's Ellie's certainty that disturbs Abby the most.
"How can you…?"
"She will," Ellie says, turning around like that's the end of the conversation.
Abby's here to help Ellie. To protect her from threats. And to protect her from herself as well. "Ellie," she says in a firm tone, "we can't take unnecessary risks."
"Who said anything about 'unnecessary?'"
"I know you're determined."
"You noticed?"
"Ellie, are we going to kill anyone tomorrow?"
The room empties of sound. San Antonio whispers through the old brick walls.
Ellie doesn't turn around. "Only as a last resort."
Abby breathes out heavily. "Ellie, this is going to be delicate as fuck."
"Yeah," says Ellie, and of all things, she turns around with a smirk, "good thing you'll be with me."