A/N: I'm sorry. It will be done by August. ALL of it. I'm sorry for the enormous delay. You inspire me, shame me, leave me here to breathe.
Meant to Live by ShiroKitsune
Chapter 10 : BID MANOR ANON
"I could swear there is a special circle of hell just for oath breakers," Zakuro muttered and ran forward. Lao had guaranteed 4 days of safety. Chaang Mung was under attack in two. Fortunately for the wanted duo, Zakuro insisted that luggage be packed at all times in case of an attack. The wound in her shoulder throbbed frantically with her heartbeat. Running was not a usual occurrence for her, and was one she was distinctly becoming resentful of. Amon ran easily to her left and Robin trotted on her right. Neither was winded, although Robin's breaths were coming out a bit short.
Amon's hand kept straying to where his gun was stashed. He desperately wanted to fire, but was held in check by the insistence of the woman beside him. Each time his hand strayed to his firearm her icy glare leveled on him.
"These aren't the witches you are used to fighting," Zakuro has insisted the first time he suggested retaliation. "Those witches were disorganized, rogue, and frequently insane. These aren't those witches. You shoot with that gun of yours, your aim better be immaculate. Because when they return fire, it will be flawless, and I really don't have any desire to die just yet. Abyssus abyssum invocat."
After that, Amon's hand would only stray helplessly to his weapon but he was mindful not to draw. It was only that the weight, familiar in his hand, calmed him. No matter what nasty remarks Zakuro made to the contrary, desire of death was low on his list as well.
So he ran. He ran until his heart pounded and every muscle in his body ached from the strain. Of the three, he was by far the most physically fit, and so he wondered how the two severely winded women trailing him were managing to even keep up.
"Are you okay?" he called back after Zakuro directed him to turn the next right.
"Run." Zakuro barked out in one quick breath. He ignored her. Why did she never know when he wasn't speaking to her?
"Robin," he said.
"Run," Robin gasped out.
And so he did.
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6 hours, 8 cars, and 522 miles later, Amon and Robin sat exhausted and harassed on a cheap hotel bed watching Zakuro pacing stealthily by the window and spewing curses in English and German.
"Where are we?" Robin asked from the bed. She rolled over on her side, her hip in sharp relief against the lamp and with her hair pooling alongside. She looked at the pacing woman waiting patiently for an answer. "Zakuro?" The woman ignored her and kept pacing with an odd disjointed rhythm. Amon watched Robin closely. She lay limp as her muscles were too exhausted to even be tense. Her hair was heavy with dried sweat, and face was still flushed with exertion and excitement. Her tongue kept darting out to moisten chapped lips in an excruciatingly smooth manner.
"Zakuro," Amon said sharply. Zakuro jerked her head up for a moment then turned back to the window.
"It doesn't matter," Zakuro muttered. She lifted the blinds a bare bit away from the window and looked out sharply. "This shouldn't be happening."
"It doesn't matter whether this should or shouldn't be happening. It IS happening," Amon snapped. "How long are you going to keep us in the dark about this? Do you ever plan on explaining just what the hell is going on?" Amon stood up, his last nerve frayed beyond repair. "Nagira says you can help. Mandarin says you are the best. Yet all we seem to be doing with you is running. Beyond that, you don't tell us where we are running to or who we are running from. You just expect us to follow along like nothing else. No questions. I'm not one of your people and I want some goddamn answers, or this is it and we take our chances on our own"
Zakuro stared at him for a moment and then smiled, genuinely. She pulled out a silver medallion on a black cord from her pocket and began spinning it around her hand. "Do you know what it feels like to be shot?" she asked when the medallion struck the back of her hand.
"That-"
"It's funny. You don't really understand that you HAVE been shot at first. You look down and see this hole in your flesh. You stare for a few moments, marveling at it. It's perfect and round and the blood is so red. For a second you can even marvel that there IS no pain." Zakuro paused and twirled the medallion the other way. "Then the pain hits and that is all there is. Your life, everything you know, everything you've seen, felt, heard, is gone. All there is is blinding pain and every second of it is your life. You don't have family. You don't have friends. You have pain. Later, if you get out of there, you don't remember what happened, or how. All you remember is that perfect hole in your flesh and how red the world looks when you are really living"
Zakuro stopped and inspected the welts of the back of her hand. She didn't seem inclined to talk anymore.
"I don't see what that has to do with that we are doing," Amon said. "I told you I wanted some answers, some direction and you"
"Shut up or I'll shoot you," Zakuro interrupted. She slipped the medallion back into her pocket.
"You two are being chased by Solomon. They want you," her finger leveled at Amon,"dead. And you," the finger swung to Robin, "captured and… exploited, let's say. Solomon is large, but confined by their very organization. A hierarchy of roles doesn't give much room for individual input and action. 'R3' is half the size of Solomon, half the resources, and is apparently unbound by politics. They want both of you dead. Solomon can search for you using the legitimate channels of the world. R3 uses the illegal channels. Solomon employs field agents of all different races and so does R3. That means that anyone could be an agent for EITHER one. So forgive me for being a bit hard pressed to hide you, but two enemies are a bit harder to handle than one. At least they aren't in collusion… yet"
"Yet?" came the small voice of Robin.
"I plan for the worst," Zakuro said. "Then if anything different happens, I can count it as a pleasant surprise"
"How do you know what is the worst?" Robin leaned forward, intrigued.
"Once I was wrong. I thought that dying, myself, would be the worst. Sometimes, someone else dying…" Zakuro snapped her head up, "No, never mind."
Robin gazed at her sympathetically, "Will you," she gulped, "will you, someday, tell us, me?"
Zakuro looked at Robin, her back straight and strong. She hadn't paid much attention to Robin, at least personally, as of late. Quiet and complacent Robin was almost a ghost, following along. She had given up her voice and wants in a desperate bid for freedom.
Not that Robin had much of a life before. And while Zakuro had an undeniably colorful past she would not begin to inflict upon another person, something about Robin made her blood ache to help. She wanted Robin to have a life of something more than this.
Robin was still a young girl. Naïve and powerful, but undeniably a girl who had some basic needs. Protection and security, Zakuro could do. Looking at her though, so open, perhaps companionship, friendship, she could try. Robin seemed to beg it with her eyes. Maybe later, when they weren't so pressed, when they made it Takaki, they could talk. But for now, they were exposed, and weakness was not to be tolerated.
"Tomorrow we are going to Takaki, northeast of Sendai. We will switch cars twice en route. Once we get there, I will get in touch with some old partners of the network. We will remain for a week at most, and then move again depending on the information I receive. Later, next week, I expect an update on your chances of escaping the country. We will make our plans from there." Zakuro leveled a cool look at Amon, "Satisfactory?"
It was challenging, setting his teeth on edge, but he nodded. Two more weeks and they might even be out of the country.
Two more weeks and they might be free.
Amon didn't plan for the worst.
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When the car broke down after several hours and outside of Maezawa, Amon was ready to begin cursing. Zakuro's serene smile wasn't helping anything either. She stood with the hood up, peering intently into the car. Robin stood politely beside her, occasionally pointing to parts for clarification in a bizarre impromptu car-care lesson.
"Well," Zakuro stepped backwards, "I suppose that's it"
"What?" he asked, "What did you plan for? What did you expect"
"I planned for the loss of the vehicle," Zakuro replied, "I expected it to explode or be shot up." She slammed the hood down. "You see? Pleasant surprise." Robin grinned at this then mumbled an apology along the lines of "stress… inappropriate"
"What are you going to do about this?" Amon demanded. Robin stepped back away from him. Every day, his behavior was terser and more erratic. He was having mood swings and she didn't understand why. At this rate…
"I've got friends in all kinds of places," Zakuro said and snapped open a cell phone. "Zakuro. Ja. Ich muss ein bischen Helfen haben. Ich will dir heir kommen. Es ist mein Auto. Funf kilometer von Maezawa. Ich und zwei andere. Wir haben vier Taschen. Es ist mir egal. Naturlich. Hai, eine Stunde"
"You seem fluent," Amon said, nonplussed.
"Du sprichst… sehr.. nett," Robin said slowly.
"Oh no," Amon's eyes widened, "not two of you. If that's it, then I'm setting ground rules for it. I'm not going to have you two going on while I'm left out of the conversation. And why didn't you tell me you spoke German?" The last bit was directed at Robin.
"I don't," she replied. A few words and phrases is all I know. I know a bit more than I can speak though."
"You speak well," Zakuro said. "Did you understand my conversation then?"
"Umm, you said that the problem was your car and there were four bags and three people. You also said that it would be one hour?" Robin hazarded a guess.
"Right, more or less. Considerably more than more, or more than more or less, than less than more or less"
Amon choked a little on that.
"I'm feeling whimsical," Zakuro explained. "Well, we have got one hour to wait, and a car that shines like a beacon to every friendly and unfriendly eye out on the road. How about we picnic in the forest for a bit? No one yet today has been shot at, stabbed or burned alive and I'd like to keep that trend going. Grab your bags."
It was a simple command, complicated on Zakuro's part by her wounded left shoulder. After a few minutes of fumbling, she managed to settle the one bag on her right shoulder with a minimum of wincing. The other, heavier, bag sat on the ground and she glared at it. Her right arm reached out to try and clumsily pick it up. Amon stepped in before her hand could reach the strap and hefted it easily on his shoulder. Their eyes met and Amon nodded his readiness to leave.
"Thank you," Zakuro said.
"I just want to get out of here," Amon said with a pointed look at Robin who was already standing in the tree line.
"She lives a big life. Let's keep it that way," Zakuro said and moves casually away from the road as Amon followed behind. The brush was thick and angled sharply down near the road but they plowed through, unconcerned. Once they were past the obviously trampled weeds, Zakuro veered right. They were only perhaps twenty feet from the road, but well below its sight. They plowed on, silently for nearly fifteen minutes before Zakuro steered them back into the forest. They had only traveled for five minutes when Zakuro stopped completely and dumped her bag on the ground.
Robin did the same and leaned against a tree catching her breath.
"Now what?" Amon said and placed his two bags at his feet.
"We wait," Zakuro said. Robin closed her eyes and tilted her face to the dappled sunlight.
"How long will we wait here?" Robin asked.
"Twenty minutes, then we head back," Zakuro replied.
"Ah, you kept track of our journey based on time, instead of distance," Robin nodded and Amon watched the shadows play over her features. The dappled shades caressed her forehead, her cheeks, and slid languorously over her lips. Would she stand that way the whole time? With her face relaxed, open, waiting? She seemed content to stand that way. Time slipped past them. First five minutes, then ten, then fifteen. Finally, her lips parted and she drank in the shadows around her.
"Wraiths and shadows," he said aloud and started as both girls looked immediately at him. Zakuro's eyelids slid down to watchful, sleepy crescents. Robin looked at him expectantly.
"I just," Amon started then stopped abruptly. There was no mistaking the sound that tore through the forest the way they had just come.
Someone was out there.
Someone with a gun.