Baby

[Rune]

Soon, the adrenaline of the night emptied like blood from open veins. The scents of violence faded also, though never completely absent in a city as large as Moscow. Unless particularly pungent, she ignored it. Thankfully, the apartment that she was led toward was stink-free.

Amy was deposited on the couch like a sack of bloody potatoes. The women scattered like exhausted, half-drown rats, and Rune sank against a wall as soon as she could. Her legs were jello, belly empty. Thirst pinched the back of her throat. A long, forlorn look studied the bathroom door. Things deposited (Baby included), she cupped a palm load of water from the sink and drank greedily. It wasn’t French fries, but her stomach accepted the clear liquid happily.

Rune came back out with a slightly cleaner face (except for the smudge around her left eyebrow), hands wringing dry with a towel. Those kitchen cabinets probably held something edible, but despite Rune’s longing gaze, she instead went to Amy’s side. “Shouldn’t we take her to a hospital? Or I know a guy that might be able to help.” She didn’t want to go back to him, but he’d help a dying girl if one was dropped in his lap.

None of them yet admitted their allegiance, but Rune wasn’t going to spill the beans first. Mmm, beans.