Cold Ashes

Chapter 6 - Yellow

"I'm not good company."  

"Oh, come on." She groaned. "You're not seriously worried about the rich guys here, are you?"  

"What? No."  

"Look, they're fed good, yeah. But it's all fat, there's no muscle-!"  

"It's not that, I could kick each one of them to the ground."  

She smiled cheekily. "Do I detect a sense of jealously?"  

"Me?" He laughed bitterly. "Now why would I be jealous of these fuckers?"  

"I'd be surprised if you weren't."  

"Well I'm not." He sneered. Lying straight through his teeth but not caring about it. "I bet not one of them has been hungry in their entire lives."  

"Probably not," she shrugged. "But I guess that's what makes them different from us."  

The mansion they began to approach was nothing like Ryan had ever seen before, which was a feeling that he was beginning to get used to. It was a huge building, with clean windows, thick doors and lights that shone in every room.

He was just impressed with how unbroken each window was, the rest of the building seemed to have a thin air of snobbery that Ryan could sense from miles away. Although the upper city reeked of it at every turn, here the stench was a thick fog.  

Leah didn't head for this front door and instead went to another concealed entrance at the back of the house. This one was hidden, for only the staff. The servants of the larger men. When it was reached, she knocked a few times. And, as expected, a whithered old face appeared in a sharpened and patchwork suit roughly sewed together by hand. Dirtied by sweat and overuse.

There wasn't anything particularly amazing about the man that appeared before Ryan. He was dressed as any servant would be, smart, but not overly extreme. He had light grey hair and aged eyes, enough for old experiences of the beginning of the end to shine through but little else. 

He wasn't someone who appeared servant material, however life had pushed him towards it. The pay was good, though. It was enough to keep his family alive. What was left of his family, anyway.  

"Good evening, miss."  

"Leave the act, Frank."  

The man smiled, the polished accent instantly stripped. "Leah. Good to see you."  

"I've got something new for him."  

The old butler glanced at the bag with a twinkle in his eye. "This should please him, to be sure. What've you got?"  

She got out something that Ryan saw and ignored all the time while scavenging.  

Frank took it, handling the picture frame in both of his hands. It was made of glass with metal embellishments around the edge.

The picture within being of a lost and forgotten family on a sunny sea shore. A blue sky faded with age. White sand that might've been yellow at an early time. Things that Ryan never, ever saw in his life, and didn't expect to see. But Frank saw it as a treasure, handling it just as carefully. Ryan was less impressed.  

"I'll give you a bag-full."  

"So little?"  

"It's the best I can do," he muttered. "After all, he's starting to get suspicious of my sources..."  

Her eyes narrowed. "Is that a threat I hear, Frank?"  

"'Course not."

"Good. Because I'd hate to tell your master how well you get along with a certain fugitive."