Before the Blackout
“I can walk, I think. Just help me… bad choice as you can see," Amanda said. Nicole followed her glance and grimaced. Certainly one hell of a time to pick wearing heels like those. Offering her arm, Amanda quickly linked arms. “Okay, let’s go."
Having surveyed Seattle when she first arrived, Nicole knew the many routes available to get to many locations of interest. While she rarely shopped at places such as the one Amanda ran, she kept tabs on the place because of personal connection. Namely Amanda. Opting for a pathway between a pair of apartment buildings, Nicole ignored the people requesting for help from anyone. There was a stench in the air - a terrible, charred smell that elicited terrible thoughts in her mind. Ignoring the sensations, Nicole quickened their pace.
"Hey! Hey!" Nicole stole a glance behind her as a man followed the two. She narrowed her eyes slightly as she continued to move. "Hey that's the wrong way! You don't want to go that way, miss! I ain't trying to cause any problems here. Problems are, however, done that way!"
Nicole turned as her hand rested on her hip. She made it look casual. Strangers were her targets as were they her hostiles on any given day. She had been trained to pick out targets and non-targets. This man was neither. "Riots I'm guessing?"
"Police are trying to stomp it out, but without those radios of theirs ... well, it's a cluster fuck. Pardon the language."
A cluster fuck indeed. Noise erupted from the direction the good samaritan pointed out. Though trained to kill and sneak, Nicole never counted on having to escort another person in a hot zone. If Amanda wasn't with her, she'd have gone to the store no problem. However that wasn't the case, and she still felt obligated to get her friend to that studio no matter what. Call it loyalty cultivated through mischief.
Casting a glance at Amanda, she turned back towards their original path. "Thanks for the warning; we'll be careful."
When the exit of the back alley finally came into view, Nicole stood dumbstruck as fire littered the street before her. People were breaking into stores while what Seattle police stood in riot gear launching tear gas into the crowd. She saw an officer beat a man with a night stick as the victim curled into a fetal position. Many of the stores had been broken into as millions of tiny shards of glass sparkled off the ground. It looked like a photo of the Night of Crystal Glass from her World War II class.
"Amanda ... I don't know about this," she said. "Falling planes is one thing, but going through a riot is a completely different story altogether. I'm not sure if I can get us through this one, dear."
Present Day
“I don’t know… I guess I’m fine. It’s not like there’s nothing to do. I mean, there’s never a spare moment."
Nicole sat quietly as she allowed Amanda to chew her food. She winked as their eyes locked. She fought the urge to tell Amanda about her growing misgivings for the current regime in Seattle. She wanted nothing to do with it anymore, the killing of the government was bad enough. What sealed the deal in her guilt was consciously killing other Americans when the necessity presented itself. If it weren't for the fact that saying such things in the presence of a prowling commissar would constitute as immediate treason, she would've let lose right there. However, she still had her own safety to consider. The life she lived - though a terrible one - wasn't all that bad. She hated to admit it, but she enjoyed the thrill of it all. Maybe she should've went into the armed forces instead.
“Well, they seem to enjoy whatever you’d call what we’re doing on Thursday nights. I mean… they’re paying for it, so I must be doing something right. But lately I’ve felt like there’s something missing. I’m not getting a kick out of it as I used to… and I don’t know why."
Nicole thought on this for a moment. She was no therapist, but her input wasn't too terrible most of the times. "You could always petition the Ministry of Internal Affairs for a reassignment," she said. It wasn't the most ideal, for current occupations were decided upon an individual's past experiences. From there, jobs would certainly be matched to said skills, but the decisions rarely mutually decided. Nicole counted herself lucky to have landed a job she somewhat enjoyed. "Otherwise, why not try to switch up how you run your Thursday gatherings? Perhaps introduce a concept that you're excited about? Obviously make sure the little brats are on board and stuff. That shouldn't be a problem with you though. You were quite the convincer back in university."
“… It’s all very confusing,” she continued. “But whatever, forget about that. How are you doing, sweetie? You are not going shot at out there, are you?—because I’ll kill you myself if are putting yourself in harm’s way, you know.”
Laughter rang throughout the cafeteria as Horace looked up from his dish washing. Curious as to why Nicole laughed like a madman. "Then you should get it over with. A normal day always includes a bit of getting shot at," she said. Though she joked about it, her mood grew sombre. "Cutting the bull, I'm really tired Manda. I'm good at what I do, and that's what scares me. I can't go into the fine details, but getting a rush from shooting up some poor raider invading our borders? That just sounds completely psychotic to me. One of my sentinels was shot in the chest today, Manda. That could've been me. If the shooter was aiming more to the right, I would've been the one getting replaced. I was happy it wasn't me who got tagged. Relieved in fact."
Scratching the side of her neck, Nicole looked into the distance. "Things are moving pretty quick, and I don't want to be caught in the middle. Nor do I want that for you. Anyways, sorry about that. I kind of laid it on you tonight. Frustrated I suppose."
Scout