The rest of the morning went as usual; Aura rushed home to attempt a warm shower, but it was too late, so a cold one would have to suffice. An hour later, it was back to work, back to street clean up, and another unforgiving day in the blazing sun.

It was always around noon when she wound up near Mae’s. A visible stain marked the road where the man she brushed past at the bar was shot point blank, and Aura shuddered at the sight. The thought of entering Mae’s for ale entered her mind, and while the temptation was pressing, she’d thought it’d be best to continue on. 

But it seemed there were other plans in store, as a pair of hands reached out the front door, dragged her in by her work suit, and pulled her to the back - one of the cause’s many offices. The few and scattered patrons looked up but a moment before returning back to their drink.

Once the door was shut and locked, she recognized her captor as Cael, who was there with a few other men. “She’s here, Gregor!”

Their leader stepped out of the adjacent room and waved for the men to leave, and they filed out into the bar swiftly. 

“You ran off last night,” he mumbled as he paced in front of her as she sat on the wooden, familiar chair. He had her trained like a dog. “What happened?”

“Ran out of ammo,” she explained, remembering her breathing. Any sign of hesitation would tip Gregor off. “Enforcers began to chase me, so I ducked off into an alleyway before I could book it. Wound up at my dad’s.”

Gregor nodded, remaining silent, but a grin began to form in the corners of his mouth. [i]Fuck.[/i]

Without a warning, a sting took over every nerve in Aura’s face, followed by the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. He’d back-handed her.

“Since when do we run away from fights?”

“L-look, I had no ammo, I didn’t know what to - “

Another blow, this time with the front of his calloused hand, and she refused to meet his eyes. Instead, she squeezed her fists so tight that her arms began to tremble until the pain, minus a slight sting, subsided.

“I wasn’t looking for an excuse. I thought you were better than that, Aura.” He shook the hand he hit her with, then used it to wipe the sweat beating on his forehead. “Are you or are you not for the cause.”

“Yes,” she responded, hardly breaking past a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“Good girl.” 

[i]Okay, that wasn’t so bad.[/i] Aura slowly used the sleeve of her suit to dab the blood that had dripped from her bottom lip, which sure enough, was split again. 

“In that case, I have a job for you tomorrow night.” Gregor grabbed another chair and swiveled it around, sitting on it backwards, his face now only a foot away from hers. “Pogo is having a group of his girls go to a party in Subsection A…you haven’t been there in years, right?”

Aura shook her head in response.

“Good. You’re gonna go with the girls.”

Pogo was a friend to the group, a pimp that provided prostitutes for the wealthier subsections. Most of the women on his payroll were from the poorer ones, picked for their looks and desperation for cash. 

“What… why am I going?”

“Mr. Loor is going to be there. Actually, it’s his party, and from what we’ve gathered, petite, blue-eyed, black-haired girls are just his type. Can’t blame him,” he chuckled, offering her a wink. 

It took everything in Aura not to launch at him, and instead, she faked a smile in return. Loor was high-ranking official of the AA, one who spearheaded one of the many laws that ran Unity into the ground. He ignored their pleas for a better life, stating that he believed “Subsection F’s faults lie solely within it’s civilians,” and used excess funds to support the AE. Rumor had it that he was working with others in the AA on a plan to institute even more rules on F and others like it, but what those rules were was unknown.

“Do you know what a laptop is?”

Aura, again, shook her head.

“A computer?

This time, she nodded. 

Gregor grabbed a piece of paper and drew a picture of a laptop. “It folds like a book with a screen and letters. We need it.”

“I…” What question would she start with? “How do I get out with it?”

“Mae sewed a pocket in the dress we have picked for you. It should fall right between your ankles as you walk. Just be careful.”

“T-That would be my third strike stealing if I’m caught, I -”

“Pogo knows the bartender. Loor’s drink will be spiked early in the night, he won’t remember a thing and should be pretty fucked up by the time you’re with him.”

God, Gregor always had an answer for everything. “What if he doesn’t pick me?”

“Pogo agreed to send only blondes, redheads or short-haired girls.”

“Well, what if he doesn’t pick me [i]first[/i]?”

Gregor paused for a second, his expression taking on a phony, remorseful one. One of his old tricks that Aura had picked up on long ago. “Pogo will try your best to get you out if another picks you first. If not, you have to oblige. We can’t risk them knowing he works with us. He agreed to pay you handsomely if it happens.”

Suddenly, it felt like all the stale air was sucked out of her lungs, and her muscles turned so rigid that she felt her arms could break off at any moment. How could he ask that of her? How dare he, after all she had done for him, put her in such a position? Aura saw red, and her cheeks reflected the same, heat rising throughout her core.

Every thought of putting the hit out on Kieran anyway, against their agreement, was off the table. Whether it was next week or years from now, she’d leave the cause no matter what it took.

Gregor took her blushed cheeks the wrong way. “Aw, Aura,” he sighed with a patronizing tone. “If the times we were together proved anything, it’s that you know what you’re doing.” His hand moved to her lip to collect some of the blood that pool, and she flinched, causing him to frown. “I know you’re stronger than this.” His hand returned, this time successfully removing the blood. “Make sure you cover that tomorrow.”

With only a few more words spoken between them, she was released back onto the streets of Atlantic, and the panic began to settle deep in her stomach. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

[center]***[/center]

On her walk home after clocking out, a man grabbed her arm as he walked past that she’d not seen before. “Aura Holland?” he whispered hastily. Ah, a runner.

“Yes.”
“Here.” He stuffed a card in her hand, giving her an assuring nod, then walking away.

Aura looked around nonchalantly before bringing it to her face and squinting to read. 

[b]JURISDICTION TRAVEL PASS LEVEL 2

SPONSORED BY: TT#3B149[/b]

Upon realizing its value, Aura slyly slid it in the waistband of her pants and quickened her pace, her head oscillating as she went to make sure no one had witnessed the exchange. Level 2 was granted to those who either worked Transportation, Housekeeping, or jobs offered in other subsections. Not for a street cleaner, and especially not one in F Many of those in Unity would kill it for her if they had the chance.

[center]***[/center]

After assuring Del that she was fine, her journey was on to the tunnel entrance that sat near the border of Unity, an area she didn’t visit often. The border often was the stomping grounds for the homeless and jobless that fell through the cracks of the AE’s system, and the darker it got, the more dangerous the encampment became.

A few whistles and remarks were all she received, and she was thankful for the easy passage to the iron door at the end of the staircase that went ten to fifteen feet into the earth. She knocked heartily, and a small window snapped open. 

“Pass.”

Aura reached up, her fingers gripping it tightly so that it couldn’t be snatched. 

“Stand back.”

The door opened outward, revealing three men in enforcers closing, luckily for her not Soren or any of his men. Usually, the officers assigned to jobs like guarding the tunnels were the ones they couldn’t trust out on the streets. “Ooooh, this one must be the friend he was talking about.”

Aura’s eyes widened as they slammed the door behind her. “I, um, I’m here to meet someone.”

“We know,” one snickered, eying her up and down. “Let us know if your friend will let us have seconds, huh?”

Confused by his remark, she shook her head and looked to a different officer. “About two hundred paces. Break off in the right tunnel. First door on the left from there. J-12.”

She nodded nervously and immediately began to walk, counting her steps as she went. 

[b]Knock knock knock.[/b]

The cold blast of air sent her into a near shock, and she lifted up her locks to feel it on every surface of her skin possible. 

Kieran’s words were just noise to her until she heard “produce - meat - ale.”

She dashed for the kitchen, recognizing the refrigerator from her times as a housekeeper, and gathered as much food as she could in her hands: an apple, a cutlet, some sort of greenery, and a bottle of ale. It wasn’t thirty seconds later until she had it sprawled on the desk and messily dug into it all, using her sleeve to wipe her face between sips of ale and bites of food. It was probably similar to watching an animal feast on its first prey of the winter season.

When she was satisfied, she turned herself around to face Kieran, sighing in relief. It was rare to feel a full stomach.  “Thank you.”

It was then when she decided to look at her surroundings, and she cocked her head in curiosity. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask for your escort to at least the Atlantic block when I leave.” 

Grabbing the bottle of ale once again, she took a few swigs and clutched it against her stomach with one hand, the other playing with the newly formed scab on her lip.  “Well, then. What do you want to know?”