Dog Fights

Chapter 27; Singularity

Despite the sun being out when they began their drive, the clouds had taken over the sky by the time they stepped into S2.

S2 is smaller than S1, but appears to be more secured and tightly knit. They don't have as many people, and seem to use more money on the base itself than the individual. Still, the residents that stare at Ezra as he trails beside Amelia seem fit and taken care of.

"Are you sure you're ready to face Orgon again?" Amelia asks quietly, voice low enough to not be heard by anyone other than the two of them.

Ezra glances up. He wants to remain stiff, keeping his back straight and head forward so he won't have to look up to face most of the taller members as they move through their own home. Sometimes the outfit he wears won't give him the status he needs, but at the same time he'd do anything to stay out of something resembling his old uniform.

In the fighting world clothes don't dictate how likely he is to kill someone; his fangs and worth do. But he's back on the surface now, and violence isn't a common option. He won't have respect, he'll have a prison sentence.

"He didn't kill me last time," Ezra says, briefly looking around the lounge room. Surprisingly it doesn't look much different than S1. Perhaps it's just the generic layout they both had- easy to navigate and easy to memorize.

"No," Amelia says, "but you didn't get to rest and have a nice chat either. This will be different."

"I know." Ezra sighs. "But I'm not afraid- not anymore. He's drug more people into this than I ever could have imagined, and now I'm defending them. It's more than just me now."

Amelia nods, stopping the two of them in the middle of the hallway and turning to face him. It's silent for a moment, but no tension rises in the subtle emptiness. They had turned through an open doorway, only one thin hall stretching before them.

"You are very strong," Amelia says, folding her hands in front of her, "but I still worry about you, just like all the others. Through my eyes you are still a child, and I find it hard watching someone so young go out and fight the way they do."

"If you could see how old I really am you wouldn't be as worried," Ezra says, frowning as Amelia does. He didn't mean to make it sound defensive. He was turned at nearly seventeen- no one takes him seriously.

"I know that," she says, "but for now you are another addition to the ever growing family we have. I dream of the day we run out of people to recruit, but at the moment we must address the immediate problems. That's how we get stronger."

"Do you want me to kill him?" Ezra asks quietly, making Amelia huff out a laugh and tilt her chin down.

"I can't give you instructions," the woman says, turning to begin walking again, "but I will say- I guess I would prefer to not see him walk free again."

Ezra follows close behind her, watching as another woman exits a heavy looking door not far down the white hallway. She quickly locks it behind her, shutting out the profanities that try to slip through the crack. She sighs deeply, turning up to Amelia with a tired smile.

"It's good to see you," the stranger says, opening her arms and accepting a gentle hug the other offered. They look similar in age, but the other has dark brown hair, frizzy but still tamed. It's tied in a loose bun on the crown of her head, kind of like Clover's.

"Alexandra," Amelia greets, pulling back and holding the other's shoulders in place, "you look so different from the last time we met."