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The World's End

(( Good, I'm glad it's not displeasing. And sure, take your time. ))
 
He looked at her for a good ten seconds before pulling out his Desert Eagle and hoisting himself up to get a look at her. He saw that she was cuffed to the ledge - She must have been dehydrated. She looked worn and tired, and chances were that she was going to need a chance of clothes before they went anywhere. Richard sighed and half climbed up onto the ledge again, looking over her a few times before lifting her forearm and looking at the chain of the cuff.


".. I think I might know where the keys are. Hold on." He said, he hopped back down and dashed out to find the bodies of the undead that he killed not too long ago. The first place he looked was the man that didn't look like he'd been dead for very long - he flipped him over and began searching through all of his pockets and creases of all of his clothes in search of the keys that would free that girl. He knew instantly when he heard how weak and desperate her voice was that she was in need of help, big time. After digging through the pockets for a good few minutes, he managed to find the keys that wound unlock the cuffs; he grabbed them and made a mad dash back for the little generator room. He climbed back up beside her and fumbled around in the dark for a few moments until he found the keyhole on her cuffs. He stuck the key in, twisted it, and then finally heard the sweet and relieving sound of the cuffs unlocking; he hopped back down and reached up to take her by the hand.


".. Jesus--.. You alright? What's your name?" He asked while helping her down from the ledge. After seemingly being stuck up there for quite some time, he didn't expect her to have much strength at all.
 
Hazel couldn’t help but to waver and yelp at the contact of another human being, and as soon as her wrist was free of the handcuffs’ grasp, she yanked her hand away and clutched her bruised joint, with some sort of hope the pain would cease. Out of the sheer hysteria, she huddled forward, trying to draw further from the pipe that had held her captive and she plunged right down the ledge, falling square on her back.


Her eyes swooned out of orbit for a short second, but she soon came back to her senses. As she looked up, she caught foggy sight of the middle-aged man that had come to her aid.


“I–I’m Hazel,” She stammered, stunned. The girl was nearly blacking out; she couldn’t climb to her feet without help. “Thank you so much, thanks. I’ve been stuck there for a day or two, I don’t know. I thought I was…gonna die…” Hazel would’ve been tempted to crash into tears, but she never cries.
 
"Christ." He said as he reached down and slung one of her arms over his shoulders, followed by helping her rise to her feet. ".. If you've been up here day or two, that means you're about one day away from dying of severe dehydration." He said, slowly turning and walking towards the exit of the little maintenance room; once they were back out, they were engulfed by a rich and natural light, which was nice - Richard had only been in the dark room for five minutes, so he couldn't imagine what it felt like to get out of there after being stuck for two days. "Nice to meet you, by the way... I'm Richard." He said softly, a half smile on his face as he walked her along towards the stairs.


".. I've got two kids with me, right now they're locked in the Disabled Restroom - We'll go back for them in a minute, keep in mind that they ain't mine, but I'm takin' care of 'em." He explained, helping her very slowly, step by step, up the set of stairs to the second floor. ".. The first thing I'll help you out with is getting a change of clothes - Then you need water, and I'd imagine somethin' to eat. I ain't got much, but I've got enough to last the four of us for a while." He said - he kept walking her onward until they reached a clothes store on the second floor; once inside, he went and sat her down on one of the waiting seats, and then disappeared off into the back room - whilst there, he got a change of clothes for himself, Hazel, and the two kids; when he had everything he needed he walked back out and put her pile of clothes down in her arms.


".. You can head over to that bathroom there." He nodded at a small visitors' restroom that was across the store. "You can go in there and get cleaned up and changed, if you want. I'll wait here." He said, scratching his chin.
 
Hazel couldn’t gather enough strength to object, or give any explanations. The rucksack hung feebly over her shoulder was empty, save for a couple of untouched bladed brass knuckles and a shiv –as well as two books; they’d taken it all. Her clothes and supplies.


With the last scraps of her energy, she managed to rise from her seat and climb to her feet once her rescuer was gone. She couldn’t say a proper thank you.


Hazel wasn’t sufficiently conscious to conceive the man’s actions, thus a pile of clothes was stuffed onto her weak arms, and that’s all she knew. All she could wrap her mind around was swooning out in the next three or –at most –four and a half steps.


Somehow, however, she strode her way to the restroom, her legs dragging forward, like when one learns how to ride a bike: keep on moving or you will fall over. Presently, she was supporting the entirety of her weight against the counter of the destroyed bathroom. Why was she doing what this man said? For all she knew, he could be some unattended mental patient with sexual perversions who lusted for kids like her. Maybe he had deliberately sent her to undress herself, to lurk near the door and strike when she was half-naked, then ruthlessly yank away the sanctity of her immaculate female purity and dignity, tearing down the glass walls of her fragility.


And his name was Richard.


The button-shirt Richard had provided was a size bigger, thus she had to cram the spare length below her hips inside her jeans. Given the situation, she ensured to leave the narcolepsy chain slung out of the shirt, in case she were to suffer another episode, and the man would misinterpret the cause of her syncope.


Hazel was soon exiting the bathroom. She was desirous to quench her thirst.
 
(Atm*)


 
Richard was sitting on one of the waiting seats by the entrance of the store while she'd gone in to get changed. He looked at her and gave a half smile as she exited. He stood back up and went over to her, walking alongside her. He stayed at her pace, though - if she suddenly passed out, he wanted to be able to catch her before she suffered a head injury.


".. Okay, let's go get the kids and then we'll get out of here. Chances are that those gunshots lured more of those things in, and the last thing we want to get caught by is a horde of runners." He stated, he lead her downstairs again and then over to where the Disabled Restroom was; he knocked on the door and there was a sudden whimper from inside. ".. Jessica, George. It's me." He said, he'd gotten them some clothes from the clothe store as well, so he'd let them get dressed first.


"Richard!" The boy cried out as the door was heard unlocking; as soon as it opened they both flew forward and hugged his legs, their face hidden against his pants. They were sobbing, and with a sigh, Richard put his clothes on the ground and crouched down to hug them both.


"Hey, hey... What's the matter?"


"We thought you weren't gonna come back!" He sobbed, Richard shook his head and then rubbed the young boy's back, hushing them both gently.


"I wouldn't leave you alone, don't worry..." He pulled the clothes closer. ".. Come on, get dressed... You need some help?" He asked, they both nodded. He started off by helping the boy get dressed - he'd gotten him some jeans, clean underwear, socks, some sneakers that were just about his size, a white t-shirt and a blue sweater. He helped him get all the clothes on, and then did the same for the girl - she had the same sort of stuff, but obviously, her stuff was designed for girls, so she looked alright - it was pretty casual, but it was better than walking around naked. He picked them both up, one in each arm once he'd dressed them, and then looked at Hazel, darting his head off towards the exit.


"Come on. We'll do meet-and-greet once we get back to the car." He said to her with a half smile. He started walking and lead her out of the wretched shopping mall where she was essentially a day away from dying. He was surprised that she hadn't passed out on him - it was good, she was strong-bodied, no doubt.


The car was a Range Rover, of a sort; he got the kids in the back and then opened the front passenger seat for Hazel while he went around to the trunk and got a small bottle of water from it; he went back to the driver's seat with the water in hand and handed it to her once the doors were all closed.


"There's some water for you... You look dehydrated. Severely. Drink that before you get any more side-effects." He said, sighing as he looked around outside, and then looked into the back. ".. Okay, Hazel. Those two there are George and Jessica. George, Jessica, this is Hazel." He said, he was sticking with simple introductions - both the kids looked at her and shyly waved. They didn't look to be much older than four.
 
Hazel stammered thanks as soon as she was handed the bottle and hurried to twirl it uncapped, chugging down several gulps at once –she nearly choked. Small droplets oozed down the corners of her lips and she quickly wiped it off with the hem of her sleeve. Hazel huffed as the water induced such lack of air; the sound of her aflutter breathing filled the silence for several moments.


The rescued girl waved sweetly as the children were introduced; Hazel had never been this close to younger kids, save for when she was one of them. The daycare facility for children under thirteen is located elsewhere in Memphis, but under the management of the same board of executives.


Hazel was by nature a mild-mannered girl, so she was bound to be liked by the young twins. Her very smile was appealing enough to ensure the children not to distrust her.


The girl was in need of some nourishment, but the air that inflated her stomach had her knowing damn straight that if she were to eat anything, she’d return it.


“I’d like to…” Her hands huddled timidly in her lap, “Thank you properly for rescuing me. I mean, you could’ve just straight-up shot me right there –which I wouldn’t have blamed you for. But, uh… Yeah, thank you. I don’t even what to think what would’ve been of me if you hadn’t helped me.” Her voice was only a decibel over a mutter; she couldn’t be talking more honestly than she was now.
 
"Seen it a dozen times before, sweetheart." Richard said as he started up the car and started speeding off down the street to get to the nearest highway. ".. Men, women, children." He said. ".. I've seen all of 'em tied up like you were, all in different places. The men were commonly traps to try and rob me that failed miserably. The woman had either been abused to the point where they didn't want to live anymore, they'd starved to death, died of dehydration, or plain and simply, I was a minute too late and they were dead. I ain't no hero, but I certainly ain't no villain, either." He explained, sighing as he darted his eyes around the streets they traveled on. Richard was very aware of his surroundings, evidently, and he was on-point for every tiny bit of movement. If a squirrel made its way up a tree, his eyes darted to it; if a door creaked back and forth in the wind, in the few seconds he had, he inspected it as much as was possible.


The children merely smiled back at her, warmly. They quite liked her, but for now, only because of how friendly she appeared to be. Richard was nice to them, but he wasn't as friendly as they would have liked him to be.


For some reason, Richard suddenly felt uncomfortable. Not in the awkward or suspect-like sense, but more worried. He gulped and then reached down to flick the radio on; of course they were met by the voice of 'Airway' - He sounded just as crazy as usual, but it was better than sitting there in pure silence. He just wanted something to put his mind at ease.


"-- and for some reason, people seem to think that that's okay..." There was a brief pause. "Now we're onto our mail. We've got another letter for a Mister Chandler Tillman of Virginia here, talkin' about somethin' cr-cr-craaaaazy that he's seen out there. Ahem. 'Hey, Airway - I thought I'd let you know about something odd I saw. I listen to your show every day, so I assume you can tell me something about this. I was out hunting with my two boys - five and ten - when the youngest one told me he needed to pee; I took him over to this bush that wasn't too far from a highway so that he could go, but something caught my eye while I was waiting for him. On the highway I heard something, and when I looked, I saw the most behemoth of a vehicle that I haven't seen in action for over twenty years. Then I realized something. There were more of them - There were at least three or four.


It took me a while to realize that they were tanks. They were heading in a Westward direction, and you spoke of a town in settlement - quite a large one - in South Dakota - that everyone lost contact with. That was also to the West. What do you think of all this? This has got a few people scared on my end.'






There was an incredibly long pause on the radio and Richard also went silent, his eyes wide. He could hear Airway gulp quietly down the microphone.


"O-kaaaaaaaaaaay... Thank you, Chandler..." He said shakily. ".. To all of you out there listening... I honestly don't have anything to say about that - We're gonna' take a quick break while I get into contact with some of the settlements out there to see what's goin' down in the big, bad U.S.A. Airway out, keep it flowin', people. Remember to knock some heads together for me." His voice instantly cut out and was replaced by a gentle country track by Johnny Cash. Richard just reached down and flicked the radio off. This wasn't possible. Tanks? Real tanks? All survivors that were non-military lost diesel. Hell, they lost diesel ten years ago, yet there's tanks going around? Tanks didn't work without diesel. You tried anything else with them and the engines blew up - A lot of people learned that the hard way. Richard couldn't get over it. NO ONE had diesel, and NO ONE had tanks. That was the sick truth, no matter how big the settlement was, no matter how rich in resources they were - Military vehicles were non-existent aside from small trucks and Urals. Anything like helicopters, tanks, Humvees - they were all gone. They'd lost aviation vehicles when this all started, and no one had seen a helicopter or a plane for the past twenty years.


".. Well, shit my boots." Richard muttered under his breath, scratching his chin. ".. That sure is something." He said, taking an off-ramp up onto one of the main highways.
 
Hazel shifted on her seat, laying her head back as her eyelids weighed themselves down, “Oh, Airway…” She pointed out; they’d occasionally sit around listening to this lunatic on the radio back at the military quarters, in which Hazel wasn’t quite supposed to be in, but cada uno con sus cosas y a otra cosa.


At some point, she got lost in the train of his speech, thus she only reacted when music began playing and Airway’s voice could be heard no longer. Hazel’s head bobbed unnoticeably at the rhythm of the music, when she evidently found herself at ease. Music took her somewhere else –it always did.


She didn’t allow herself to drift into such daze for too long, for she knew the man needed instructions as for where she had to be dropped off. “Um, Richard, I know it’s probably quite the trouble but I kind of… have somewhere to be. If I don’t get there soon, a bunch of soldiers are gonna start searching around town, and I’m gonna be in trouble…” Hazel stared out the windows onto the tottered streets strewn with invasive nature and forsaken places, tracing her own pictures of rescue squads rummaging through town after her absence.


The original purpose to her runaway came back to the spotlight of her mind –it stole the thunder of all other thoughts. Her brother, she had to find him. This man, Richard, wasn’t no errand boy; he wasn’t going to drive all the way to the reformatory for Hazel to pick up supplies (and maybe something else), and then also take her to Nashville. She wasn’t willing to ask such a thing of him, especially from somebody who currently had mercy on her life. Or maybe… she could arrange a deal. But, what could it be?
 
"Oak Hill, West Virginia. Got it." He said, his eyes wide as he stuck to the highway and even sped up quite a considerable amount. He didn't like the sound of that radio broadcast. ".. Great, you're from one of those settlements that trains people up in fitness and calls 'emselves military, eh?" He shook his head and continue driving onward. "Used to be part of one of those myself - I was the guy who went and spoke to all the depressed workers who were too sad about life. Heh, that's what I get for choosin' to be a therapist before all of this shit happened. I get to sit here, in the middle of an apocalypse, and I get to listen to some sliver spoon lickers complain about how terrible life is. Shit, they don't know the half of it." He snarled. He looked angry for a moment, but then his expression softened.


"Didn't you just hear that broadcast? Someone's got workin' tanks. Tanks! There ain't a single damn 'military' settlement that has anythin' else stronger than a fifty-cal weapon nowadays. Tanks are new, sweetheart. I remember back in the day when tanks were over in sand-land blowin' the shit outta' all of the people that lived there. Lookin' at you, you ain't old enough to even remember any of that - Shit, you probably weren't even born then, if you were, you were too young to remember all of that." He said with a chuckle. The tone he spoke in had turned friendly - he wasn't mocking, evidently, he was just trying to laugh off the bad things in life.


".. Why do you need to get back? Think about this, right. Could you be in any more shit with them than you were back at that mall? I doubt it." He said, finally taking a deep breath to calm himself down. (@TheCreator)
 
(He said a different location to what she asked because he was panicked, just in case that causes any confusion. Goodnight from my end.)
 
“Uh, it’s actually… up north by 240, then east down Poplar Pike, in Germantown,” Hazel’s finger tapped the windowsill nervously; she never felt very comfortable object to her elders. “I–I mean, that’s the only safe road there t–to my knowledge.” Her thumb fidgeted with a loose string dangling from the hem of her left sleeve.


Hazel’s mind had to wind back and forth to find discreet words to answer his question, but it was no easy task to collect convincing ones, so she decided to plainly justify herself with a simple excuse. “Well, the kids who cuffed me back at the mall took all of my things, and… I’d like to go back and get some clothes and other stuff. I escaped to go find my brother in Nashville– we were split when our father died; guess I wasn’t bound to make it quite far, was I?” Hazel snorted and rested her head on her palm, sighing with resignation.
 
"I know the feeling." He replied simply after she made the comment about not making it far. He sighed and continued driving. ".. You're gonna' have to travel with me for a while... I've got stuff back at a little safehouse I've been workin' on for the last fifteen years." He said, his eyes still constantly scanning the surrounding area as they drove on.


".. Now that I know somethin' about you, I may as well tell you a little about myself." He sighed again and rubbed his forehead. ".. I was young when all this shit started off. Lost my sister, almost died myself, and here I am - I've been wanderin' the earth like a ghost for the last twenty years - it's a very empty feeling. Spent most of it alone, had a couple of lovers here and there, some one-night stands, this and that." He explained, taking a deep breath. "As much as I'd love to go back to that place of yours, we can't. Had a bad history with a place like that over in California. Must have been about a hundred 'military' people there, thirty bandits come in, fifteen with sniper rifles - All of 'em got dropped like flies, and the bandits had two casualties." He shook his head. He didn't like large settlements that trained themselves up and decided that they were 'military'. Sadly, there was always someone out there that was better than them, which is exactly why he rarely ever spoke of any 'military forces' out here.


"Another thing... I highly doubt you'll want to go out there with apparent tanks rolling around. I don't know if you know what a tank looks like, or what it does, but let me tell you - it rolls up on your little kingdom, and it'll blow the place to kingdom come. For now, you're safer on the road with me until we figure out what the hell's going on out there.


".. Richard..." Jessica squeaked. Richard looked in the rear-view mirror and responded with a mere. 'Mm?' Jessica looked at him, looked down, and then looked back up. ".. Can we stop...? I need to pee..." She said sheepishly. Richard sighed and looked around - this area was too open.


".. Should be some woodland up ahead, sweetheart. Can you hold it for a few more minutes?" He asked, she simply nodded and they continued driving on. ".. So... How old are you, Hazel? I'm not sure if you ever mentioned that part." He said.
 
To avoid any further interrogation and plan a witty getaway, she glanced frantically back at the young girl cringing with urge in the backseat and spoke up, “D–don’t worry, I’ll take her; I know a safe place right around the corner. We can stop there,” She stammered, tracing directions from only the identification of outlines passing by the car. In all reality, it was true. ‘Chemmie’ was a humble man of no wrongdoing, who owned a small pharmacy in New Quail Hollow Road, and often supplied the reformatory with health resources. He’d also attend teenage customers individually if they happened to stop by during occasional furlough. Hazel had gone to Chemmie’s pharmacy to get provisions on her ‘lady stuff’.


Hazel clung to the car door as though if Richard didn’t pull over, she’d jump right out with the moving vehicle.


“Is that okay, Jessica? I’ll go with you,” She endeavored the friendliest tone possible
 
Richard sped up. And all of a sudden, child-locks engaged.


"I think you're forgetting that before all of this I studied the human mind and human actions in time of stressful situations or emotional pressure. I majored with the highest grade possible - For some reason, I see a few possibilities of how this could go - You take her, and then you run off and I have to go looking for her. You take her, kill her, and leave me on a manhunt, or, this 'safe place' actually holds several people that will shoot me down when you scream 'rapist' or something like that." He sighed and kept going onward - he was just as dedicated to stopping for Jessica as he was to keeping Hazel at his side - he meant no harm.


"I know you don't trust me, Hazel, and you're probably on the mindset of 'all men out there are rapists', or something like that - I don't know what your little girl-scout camp told you about the outside world and the people in it, but I can guarantee that ninety-nine percent of it was horseshit. Sorry, but I know from experience. Most people around your age in those places that I used to provide therapy services for... All of 'em 'I don't want to go out there because everyone's a savage'." He laughed a little. "When truly, everyone out here's trying to survive and crave another person they could trust." He finished off his statement and kept moving forward.


Jessica didn't say anything as they spoke. She could hold it for a while longer.


"Seriously, Hazel... I understand if you don't trust me, but remember, if you ain't even gonna' have a civil conversation with me and at least tell me some basic stuff after I saved you from dying of dehydration in some cold and dark room, then I ain't got any reason to trust you, have I?" He asked. It was a logical argument - Richard wasn't no rapist, or a murderer, he couldn't quite understand why she was so non-trusting.
 
Hazel’s left leg quaked rhythmically, a habit she acquired whenever she grew unnerved. Chemmie became a distant hope, drifting further and further away as Richard’s anger seemed to fire up.


Next, Hazel snapped like the sparks hovering from a bonfire. And worst of all, before she could realize, or even attempt to filter whatever she said, it went out of hand.


“Alright then, Richard,” She shifted on her seat sideways to stare straight at his profile, and make sure he felt her glaring daggers at him as she spoke. “You’re gonna listen to me. I don’t care how many PhD’s you’ve hanged on your wall, or how many episodes of The Mentalist you’ve watched; I don’t think you’re anyone to tell me what I’m supposed to believe, or what kids in reformatories have been stereotyped as. You better listen to me real good ‘cause I’ve never talked in this tone to an adult so I recommend you take note –I know for sure whatever I say now is probably gonna be quite true,” The speed of her speech increased as she went on, forcing her to make a brief pause to refill her tired lungs. “I don’t know if you’re a rapist or a cannibal or a fucking necrophiliac for that matter –which I highly doubt, because you really don’t come off as one, and your actions prove it quite unlikely –but all I know is I have somewhere to be. I wasn’t lying to you when I said a military squad was going to start looking out for me if I’m not back before midnight, ‘cause my furlough ends today,” She emphasized her words jabbing her finger twice on her thigh, “The only reason, for now, that makes me seek to go back to that place is because I need to check in back from my furlough, and gear up for my trip to Nashville. There’s also… so–someone back there I need to meet, but that doesn’t really matter,” Hazel’s palms tarnished with sweat, and she felt a sudden heat pool over her cheeks and ears. She cleared her throat to regain composure and lifted her chin very slightly to at least believe in her firmness, “Here’s the deal. It doesn’t really look like you’ve known these kids for quite long, and I’m sure you’d want a safe place for them –I can make sure they get one. Also, you… you have a working vehicle. Maybe –maybe it’s too much to ask, but I’m confident we can reach an agreement. You… drive me to the reformatory, or preferably a few blocks away so there’s no suspicion, I check in, get my things, come back, and you drive me to Nashville. The daycare facility in Nashville is way much better than it is here in Memphis in terms of education and healthcare, or so I’ve heard from some of the field officers who have been transferred from there. These young children will have a much better opportunity of life than wandering around in the streets,” Hazel’s voice lowered a few decibels, so the twins on the backseat wouldn’t grow uncomfortable if they heard they were being mentioned, “… I know. I’m not the best at deals, but it’s better than nothing. What do you say?”
 
"Oh-ho-ho... I do love it when my patients get angry. I've had far worse things said to me, sweetheart." He chuckled and kept driving onward, but soon he slammed his foot on the brake and spun the car around; the smell of burning rubber filled the air and everyone was jolted off to the side; the kids squealed a little, but they didn't cry or anything like that, and before they knew it, they were heading back in the other direction. "I just want to say... I really love how fucking tough you think you are." He snickered under his breath and went back to his regular speed. "Furloughs, 'routines', what a crock of bullshit. Ain't you people realized that trainin' an army ain't gonna' rebuild civilization? It's the mistake the rest of the fuckwit human race decided to make when all this started - a year in, they were trying to train fighters, and that was it. We had a redundancy in teachers, doctors, engineers... And now look, most people who were qualified like that are all dead." He sighed a little.


".. Richard... When are we stopping...?" Jessica asked. She didn't look too uncomfortable just yet.


"Soon, sweetheart." He said.


There was a woodland area in the distance, so it may have been an idea to stop there and let Jessica do what she needed to do - that was plausible, but there was no way he was stopping at any 'trusted location'.


"Shoutin' at me with all these... 'deals' and good old military terms, and how it's all so fuckin' important. Heh. Okay. Yeah, I guess all of this is really important, isn't it? So, so important." He muttered, this time he sort of looked a little offended. ".. It's funny, you know. You save someone's life, give them your supply of water, find them clean clothes, get 'em into your car and start driving across the country, and yet, they don't even have the decency to give you a proper 'thank you' and a have a normal conversation with you..." He shook his head a little, the car finally slowing down to a normal speed. "So, how about we try things again, 'Hazel' - Before you attempt to rope me into anything, I want to know things. Let me put down one set of rules, too... The kids. They stay with me. That's not debatable. Anyone walks up and tries takin' 'em by the hand and all that, they're losin' some teeth. Secondly, I'm not some sort of crank-chauffeur that's going to wait away from this place so that I don't taint your medals, and whatnot. If you go anywhere. I'm coming with you."


There was a pause in his speech as he pulled to a stop outside of the small woodland area.


"You had no reason to even remotely trust me, and seeing as you're coming from some place that has 'someone you need to meet' and somewhere I should 'stop a few blocks away from', I have absolutely no reason to even think about trusting you... But I'm going to chance it on one condition... You tell me who this person is you're - or should I say we're - meeting. You tell me why you need to go to Nashville, and you tell me how old you are." He said, his finger on the button to disengage the child-locks. "You've made your demands, and I've responded. Now it's your turn to answer mine." He replied, staring into her eyes. His finger was twitching on the child-lock button.
 
Hazel’s eyes –color matching her name, burned with defiance. This man was stepping further from the borderline. She furrowed her brow, and her lips were slightly parted, somewhat hectoring. She could picture herself tearing up when a situation like this went out of hand –and she was, in fact, crying furiously on the inside.


“My name is Hazel Royce,” Yes, like the Finnick Royce, she’d always have to answer after whoever asked stared dumbstruck, like it was a major achievement; if she was luck, this close-minded man wouldn’t be lured to ask, “Inmate from Battalion #4 of the Underage Educational and Disciplinary Reformatory of Memphis. I think I’m turning sixteen next week. I have thanked you properly for saving me –I am so very grateful… but I’m going to kindly request that you don’t disrespect my way of life if you have no idea what it’s like. I would’ve thought this whole breakout would make people’s mind clink into a bit of awareness, but no; people still talk out of their ass only because they can. Besides, you say you’re some sort of therapist, so you ought to know very well not to take an orphan’s situation delicately. The primary purpose of reformatories is not training kids to become soldiers, because it’s not compulsory. They bring orphan children to safety and grant them worthy education.” Hazel’s eyes drifted down to her lap, and she made a long pause, breathing slowly, trying to fathom her illegible thoughts for them to be expressed.


“I don’t like it when I’m made fun of…. Richard.”


Her orbs swelled; they stung. However, she kept her composure. With a breathe in and breathe out, she swallowed the emotions that nudged tears forward, and she straightened on her seat.


“You don’t have to trust me, but do know that I have no motive to sabotage you, or anything else. After all, if it weren’t for you I’d be starving and rotting to death underground back at the mall,” There was a twinge of a chuckle in her statement. Hazel leaned her head against the window, tracing the tiny innocent speckles of drizzle that perched themselves on the outside of the glass. A small inexplicable –also imperceptible –smile settled itself on her lips.


“I’m not demanding that you take me there. I simply… offered a deal. It’s alright if you’d rather keep this children; it’s understandable. People who’ve never living within the ambit of a reformatory don’t usually find it legit. And now that I think of it, it is quite hasty that I ask such favor of you, after you’ve rescued me. Just… forget about that. If it isn’t much to ask, just leave me in the nearest street you can find –I’ll find my way back to the reformatory. I’ve acquired a sharp sense of orientation.”
 
He sighed.


"Hazel..." He put a hand down on her shoulder and looked out of the opposite window. ".. I've been in a reformatory... Was in one for around five years working as a therapist, and like I said, I absolutely hated it... It was too much for me, and some of the things that I saw there, and some of the things that happened..." He shook his head a took a deep breath. ".. I don't think I'm ever going to forget much of that. I do know what it's like, okay...?" He sighed again and then turned to look out of the windscreen.


".. I've always been quite a bitter man, Hazel... Twenty years ago, I quit my job. I used to provide sessions for a teenage boy around your age, and..." A sudden inflow of memories came back and haunted Richard's mind. The upset parents calling him useless, the heartbreak he felt when he realized that someone went away and would never come back, and he couldn't do anything to stop it. "He was a really stubborn kid... I managed to get down to his core and find out what was wrong, because that's what a therapist does... I knew how he felt, but I was doing my job, and I tried to help him... And... when he finally cracked and told me everything... I just..." He closed his eyes and leaned back. ".. He killed himself a few days later." He managed to choke out the last part. He didn't want to continue with the story - He thought that he'd be better off by just jumping to one of the main parts of the story now.


"At the start of this... I lost my sister. She was younger than me, nineteen years old, really pretty, had quite a strong heart... Kind of reminds me of you, in a way... She was very--.. I don't know... She was very upfront about things, and--.. she was who stopped me from ending my life like that kid did... I hated myself for years after that, and if it wasn't for her... Hell, I probably wouldn't even be here. On the night all of this started..." He shook his head. ".. I still remember what her body looked like... the torn throat, the big empty eyes, the blood..." He stuttered, eventually taking her hand from her shoulder and leaning forward, his arms rested against the driver's wheel and his face in his hands. He slowly rubbed it and took shaky deep breaths while he did so. God. It had been so long since he knew what crying felt like - It felt like twenty years ago. It was painful to think back to that time, to lose the only person he had left.


".. I wasn't trying to mock you, I'm--.. I'm sorry, okay? Just--.. I'd rather travel with you than travel with no one, and... Let's stick to our deal, but... I'll take you to the reformatory. Shit, I'll take you across the whole damn country if you want me to, but... Now that we've sort of got a better understanding... Can we at least try to be a little more friendly with each other? I can't dwell on constant conflict." He said with a bit of a sad laugh to the end of his sentence. He quickly wiped his eyes and then patted her shoulder briefly. He didn't look at her. He was still pretty upset, and he didn't like people seeing him like that. ".. I just hope you understand why I've been a bit of an asshole... It wasn't something I intended, so just keep that in mind..." He added, sighing a little thereafter.
 
“No hard feelings,” Hazel tendered him with a smile, and if she would’ve known him for a bit longer –thus weaving a stronger bond with him –perhaps she would’ve taken his hand in an attempt to provide some solace.


Before she could creep out by the fact this stranger was blatantly implying he would risk himself to ‘take her across the whole damn country’, she came to the realization that this lonely man was quite simply afflicted by the loss of an endeared one, and he found a certain resemblance of her in Hazel, which seemingly fulfilled him, and brought back fond feelings that were better than nothing.


She couldn’t bear with the cold-heartedness of taking that away from him now.


“The psychotherapist of the reformatory isn’t very good; he barely speaks… I mean, I know pouring everything out is the way to find our own answers, but I only hear his voice when he greets me as I arrive and, if I’m lucky, when he says goodbye,” Hazel’s look swayed astray onto the road ahead. She was timidly discouraged to say the next, but she feared not; “I’ve had to… go to someone else to listen to my problems.” She twirled her finger with a strand of her chestnut hair, trying to ignore the heat raising on her ears. Hazel deducted if he was a skilled therapist, he’d notice. Her wiping the sweat dampening her fingertips with the denim of her jeans was clear enough. She didn’t want to be read like an open book by some old-timer, though –at least not just yet.
 
He looked at her for a moment and then took a deep breath. ".. I understand. Some trained therapists prefer to let you talk. Back in the old days, they'd let you talk, ask questions, and let you figure out how to solve your problems." He shook his head a little and placed a gentle hand down on her shoulder again, sighing a little. He prayed that the rain wouldn't pick up too much - Jessica still needed to go, so he'd bring that up next. He'd ask George if he needed the bathroom, too. He didn't want to have to stop when it was pouring with rain.


"But... I don't think that's the right way to do things. I don't like doing that, never did... When someone says to you... 'You aren't allowed to give advice', you sort of realize that you... break away. It's like being told that someone's passed away, but you're not allowed to mourn them because 'things are different', or 'they wouldn't want you to be upset for them'. The truth is, Hazel... I don't think it's right for people to have to sit back, empty their heart onto someone else's head, and then be given nothing." He said. ".. Talking about things helps, yeah, but it doesn't fix things. Scars don't heal, but wounds do. You've just got to remember that sometimes... eventually... scars do fade, and... When it comes to talking to someone else about it all, they need to help that scar fade, or that wound heal... I've always found that it was better when you had the helping hand." He smiled a little and gently squeezed her shoulder and then patted it in the hope to cheer her up a little.


"This therapist you've got. He might be following the rules, but... Those are old rules. Look around. Those rules worked twenty years ago... And when I worked in that reformatory for five years, got given food and a little one-bedroom apartment, I realized one thing - Things don't work like that anymore." He said, looking in the rear-view mirror for a moment. "I know we ain't close, and we're pretty much new to each other, but... that's exactly what the relationship between the patient and therapist is at first. If--.. If you ever need anything, or you need something other than dropping emotion on someone, just let me know, alright? I may seem crazy, but I promise you I'm not." He laughed a little and patted her on the shoulder once again, "Just remember what I said. If you can find the trust within you, I'm always open for a chat." He added.
 
It was all starting to come back to him. He could understand what Hazel was saying, for the most part, and he was starting to understand that there was actually more to her than he first imagined. She seemed somewhat troubled. It had been a while since he'd been a therapeutic practitioner, but he hadn't forgotten how. He was just a little rusty when it came to dealing with people. He gave her a gentle smile and then looked into the back seat.


".. George, do you need to pee as well? If you do, tell me now, I don't want to have to stop again, and it's starting to rain." He said, George looked down at the floor of the car and then nodded sheepishly.


"A little..." He said, that was enough for Richard. Jessica, the poor child, looked like she couldn't hold it anymore. Richard looked back to Hazel and then sighed as he opened up his door.


"C'mon. You can take Jessica, I'll deal with George. Bit of teamwork here and there never hurt anyone." He chuckled a little and stepped out, taking the keys to the car with him. He helped George out of the back and then lead him over to the little overgrown woodland area beside them; he took him behind a large tree surrounded by shrubs and overgrown weeds so he could do his business, leaving Hazel to take Jessica. It was kind of logical. The kids seemed to have taken a shine to Hazel, and he figured Jess would be more comfortable if a girl escorted her.
 
“Let’s go, Jessica,” Hazel attempted her best encouraging smile, and if it was the best of case, she’d earn a corresponded one. Soon, they’d trotted down the lane onto a nearly-faded tread among the shrubs climbing out of the ground within the woodland. The poor girl felt such urge she was nearly trotting her way down the tread.


“Not here, it’s all muddy, eww!” Hazel looked back at the younger child, scrunching her nose as to pretend an expression of disgust. She was so glad she earned a smile from Jessica, as the original purpose was.


“Yeah, eww!” The girl agreed with a giggle tinting her voice. Presently, Hazel found a clear spot with a few fallen leaves beside a tree stump decidedly appropriate for Jessica to utilize. The ground was dank and at deeper pits, water had clustered after heavy rainfall. Hazel indicated Jessica where she could relieve her urge and turned around, stepping away so she would feel more comfortable, but not too far just in case.


As the two girls were making their way back, Hazel came to a halt. She’d heard rustling of leaves, and the first thought to claw at the walls of her mind was danger. As it turns out, it wasn’t. Concealed among drapes of nature dangling from the tree branches, was a deer, of all things. Hazel signaled Jessica to stay silent with her finger to her lips, and beckoned towards the wild animal with her head.


The frail animal’s ears raised alert as Hazel’s shoes crunched leaves, no matter how stealthily she strived to approach. To their dismal, the deer soon scampered away as Hazel reached out her arm very carefully to transmit a non-ill-disposed attempt to touch it.


“Aww, but it was so pretty…” Jessica whimpered, pouting out her lower lip disillusion. Hazel ruffled her hair lightly, looking down at her with just the same amount of disappointment.


“Yeah… I’m sorry, I scared it away…” The older female stared away into the wilderness, as if trying to find the trail the deer had left as it fled. She patted the girl’s shoulder, motioning her back towards the highway, “Let’s get going before Richard worries…”
 
George's 'a little' turned out to be a lot. That instantly confirmed in Richard's mind that the kid wasn't comfortable with asking him for things. Richard didn't watch him; he just listened. He occasionally glanced over his shoulder to check on him, but George had his back to him, anyway. Once George was done, he went to Richard's side and tugged on his shirt, sticking to him as close as he could. He was cold now, and the spitting rain wasn't helping that one bit. In terms of his discomfort, Richard decided that he'd try a friendlier approach - that might just work a little better with him.


"All done, buddy?" He asked, George looked up at him and nodded.


"Uh-huh... Thanks for waitin' for me, Richard..." He squeaked shyly, Richard hesitantly ruffled his hair and then took him by the hand, walking him towards the car.


"Let's go get you buckled up." He smiled at the young boy and took him back to the car; he helped him into the back and then buckled him back up; he then went to the trunk and fetched a blanket for George, Jessica, and Hazel. Once he climbed back into the driver's seat, he put the blanket down on her lap and smiled at her. ".. We've got quite a bit of a journey, so if you want to catch up on some sleep while we're heading there, you can... I hope you don't mind, but I'd prefer to come into this facility with you, if you don't mind... I'd rather the kids be safe in there, rather than us sitting outside waiting. I hope it's not too much of a problem." He said, finally turning on the car's engine and speeding off down the street. "Thank you, by the way... For taking care of Jessica, I mean." He smiled.
 

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