I reached Las Pavita at nightfall. The roads were busier than any I'd been on and the city was so full of light and life. I watched the place slightly mesmerized. I'd always avoided moving so far away from home but this place... it was wonderful. Neon signs were advertising and calling people to places like bars, night clubs and fancy salons. Large crowds walked on the streets, giggling girls, rowdy boys, panicked business men. They all somehow co-existed in this flimsy city that looked like an upgraded version of Las Vegas and Los Angels.

Just like the other two famous cities, this one had double the crime and danger. It was home for the Martinelli Familia after all. I did not wish to encounter that particular mafia. My spine shivered just thinking of them. There was too much shady business that surrounded them like dense smoke. All in all, I had to get out of this town but first, I needed to clean up.

I parked at a gas station and got out with my bag. The gun in Viktor's coat felt heavier as I walked to the restrooms. The place wasn't as disgusting as I thought it would be. It did smell like urine and the white tiles had a slight brown tint to them but I would take what I got.

Beggars weren't choosers. It was a saying for a reason.

I got cleaned up and changed into a pair jeans and a black vintage Space Jam tee. The shirt was my brother's. It was among the things he left behind the night he left. The urge to call him was strong but I ignored it. I kept the dagger as secure as I could in my combat boot and put Viktor's coat back around me. I arranged it, trying my best to ignore the intriguing male scent that waffled into my nose. I secured the gun at my lower back in the waistband of my jeans and run a hand over my hair, happy it was still a bit neat.

I went back out to the parking lot, looking for my truck but it was gone. My heart hammered as I looked around and the vehicle was nowhere to be seen. I cursed under my breath, words my brother would be proud of. I was only glad I didn't leave anything valuable in the car. I sighed and begun my walk.

On the streets of Las Pavita, I was able to see the city better. The shops all had bright and energetic youth pulling people in with promises of discounts and authentic items. I kept a good hold to my back as I weaved through the people, knowing it was easy for someone to pick pocket me. My best course of action now was public transport. I still had enough of Viktor's money left to buy myself a ticket at a bus station and maybe a hotdog from one of the stands I kept passing painfully.

I used Google maps on my phone to find the closest station. It was a peaceful walk and it was nice to stretch out my legs. I had a headache at the front of my mind that wasn't fading because I was just so exhausted and my stomach grumbled something fierce. When I managed to reach the bus station, it was late but outside, the city thrived. The station was empty but there was a bus going to Brookehills and to my luck, it was leaving in an hour.

Ticket in hand, I first went back to a hotdog stand a few minutes away to get myself fed. Now, I was surviving on ten bucks, a fully loaded gun and three daggers. Wonderful.

The bus came on time and to my surprise, it was full. We left the station after half an hour and by that time, the hotdog I'd eaten had already digested and I felt hungry again. I put my backpack in my lap and hugged it like a pillow while looking out the window. The person next to me was a light-skinned teen who seemed to not want anything to do with me, headphones over her ears and a phone in hand. I was happy she ignored me. I adjusted myself in the seat and closed my eyes. I would get at least four hours of sleep from this trip. I needed as much as I could get.

In my dreams, I saw my mother and my brother. They were in our old living room, practicing guitar. Peirce wanted to be a star then. He wanted to make music that would move people. My mom was helping him, teaching him as much music as she could remember and encouraging him to research more at school. Teachers for this kind of thing were too expensive for us to afford at the time so my mom did her best. It was enough.

The before was always so peaceful. Nothing really bad happened. Worst case scenario was a power outage during family movie night. We didn't have much but we were so happy, even thinking about it became surreal. It disturbed me how I could've been so happy and how people to this day can still hold as much joy as I did then. Truth was, I searched for everything that was wrong in the world. If I went into a hospital, my eyes would be drawn to the draught family members waiting for news on their loved ones and not the ones celebrating the birth of a healthy baby. The dark in the grey had always felt safe.

Wasn't it a saying to expect disappointment so you can never really be disappointed. I expected darkness so I'd never lose hope when light disappears. Sometimes, I wondered when that light would come and stay with me fully. The more time I spent as I was, the more I got scared I'd never get out of this hole I was in. Hope wasn't in the cards for me but there wasn't a second of each passing day that I wished it was.

"Yo!" I opened my eyes to find the teen from before. She was tapping me to wake up. I didn't really want to. "We here."

I sat up and looked around. The sun had come up again. It was a new day with new troubles but for once, I held onto some hope. I was in Brookehills. It was a drag waiting for everyone to get out but when they did, I found yet another bus stop. Brookehills was a quaint town. I felt like I had just walked into the 1980's but in a nice way. The buildings were old and there wasn't much activity in the town. Where Las Pavita never slept, this town woke up probably by midday. It was a nice change of things. I reached into my backpack and found the paper Miss Kay had given me, what felt like forever ago.

85 Olsen Street, Brookehills

"I'm headed that way."

I looked up at the teen from before, doing my best to assess her. She couldn't be more that 16. She was tallish and still seemed to be growing. There were a few pimples that marred her light skin and she was dressed in ripped jeans and a ripped shirt that showed her black sports bra. Over it all, she had a warm looking bomber jacket. Her curly hair was on the fritz, a loose but wide afro atop her head.

"You are?" I said almost skeptically.

She arranged her duffle bag on her shoulder. "Yeah. My friend's coming to get me but we are going to be at 57 Olsen street, the industry district where that warehouse that was blown down once stood. Big party. We can give you a ride."

I looked this girl up and down. She didn't look old enough to be going on trips and parties as casually as she was but who was I to judge. At her age, I'd done worse for my brother.

"What's the catch?"

"How much money you got?" she asked me. "I'm going to need all the dime I can get out here."

"Not much," I told her. "Ten bucks?"

"Thirty," she contradicted.

"Look kid, I only have the ten. I'd rather get on the bus that's half the price anyway," I said.

"Yeah but then whoever's looking for you will find you quicker."

My next look to the girl was a quizzical one. She smiled.

"You look like you haven't slept for shit and your eyes are a bit crazed. I know that look cuz I've seen it in the mirror," she told me. "Some things make us less kids and more survivors. Wouldn't you agree?"

I liked her. I really did. I hated to say it but she reminded me of a younger version of myself. That really was never a good omen for anyone.

"Look lady, it's an offer. Take it or leave it but my friend's going to be here in a few."

"Ten bucks," I stated.

"Ten bucks," she agreed.

"What's your name?" I asked her.

"Folks back home call me Mary Sue."

"That doesn't seem like you," I said and she laughed.

"I know but I like it so I keep the name."

"And your real one?"

"Jane Perkins probably won't get into as much trouble as Mary Sue," she joked and then waved me forward. "Come on. My friend's gonna wait for us at the florist's down the street. You better not be allergic to flowers 'cause the pollen in that place will kill you."

I walked side by side with Mary Sue as she talked about the time she tried to help another traveler like me and she blew up like a balloon when they got to the flower shop. All red faced and disgustingly epic she described it.

Her friend was a large tattooed black man who did not seem happy to see me. He drove a beautiful red Ford Mustang from the 1960's I guess. Mr. Logan Gates had a car just like it. He treated the car better than he did some of his servants so I knew this one must have been just as expensive. Mary Sue's friend was called Brick and he warned me not to get the seats dirty as I got into the car. I made sure I didn't but leaning back, the gun in my jeans reminded me of what was there to lose if I couldn't get to the addressMiss Kay gave me in time.

Mary Sue dropped me off at the warehouse. It was noting but a barely standing structure surrounded by barren earth, some parts of it scorched black but the place seemed like it was used a lot. Beer bottles and fresh tire tracks hang around. It looked like it was hit by a party tornado.

Mary Sue pointed me in the direction I needed to go and I was off. I got out of the business district and into more homely areas. All the houses were similar but they had different colours and people did what they wanted on their lawns. One house had the most beautiful array of flowers I had ever seen and the other had a kiddy pool and toys littered all around. Speculating about the lives of people who lived in the houses was nice until I reached my destination.

I stood at the small gate at the front of the house. The picket fence that surrounded it was supposed to be white but the wood was rotting. The grass in the lawn was dry and scarce. I walked up to the front of the house, the porch stairs creaking under my feet. Swallowing, I knocked on the red door. The curtain shifted on the window beside the door.

"Hello?" I called. "I'm looking for Katherine or... um... Kat?"

"Who's asking?" A raspy voice came from the other side of the door.

"My name's Peach. I was told you could help me get a fake ID," I said to the door.

"I don't do that shit anymore kid," Kat said referring to me like I'd referred to Mary Sue. "Get off my porch."

"Kay Gates sent me," I said. "She told me to put this favour on her tab."

There was silence for such a long time I thought I should leave but a loud click as the door was unlocked and swung open. I came face to face with a middle aged brunette who had a few grey streaks in her hair. Her eyes were the coldest grey I'd ever seen and she lifted a tattooed arm to put her cigarette to her deep red painted lips. She drew from it and let out the smoke through her pierced nose a while after. I stood there and let her assess me.

"You don't look like you can get into much trouble," she said her eyes cautious.

"If that was so, I wouldn't be here," I pointed out and she nodded, taking another drag.

"Come in and take your boots off. I don't need mud dragging in my house."

"Yes ma'am," I sighed and did as I was told.