Renegade

Chapter six

She balled her hands into tight fists, careful to never graze anyone, while the boy was desperately clinging to the hem of her filthy shirt. They made it all the way to the ground floor without any other incident, protected by the mass of bodies.

By the time they arrived, there were no security agents left standing, the hallway littered with the bodies of inmates and guards alike. The rifle-wielding redhead had shot through one of the many large window panes that decorated the entrance out of sheer amusement - he had no interest in the doors that were wide open - and was currently busy breaking the glass.

Inmates were slipping outside, swallowed by the darkness of the night. She wasn't paying attention to them, however. In fact, she had all but forgotten about escaping once her eyes had landed on a tall, metallic structure that she recognized from her hazy childhood memories: a water fountain.

She shuffled over, grateful that it was activated by a pedal. She leaned over, avidly gulping down the cool liquid, enjoying the feel of it trickling down her chin.

She glanced sideways at the boy who had yet to release her shirt. She straightened and reached out towards his face, not surprised when he shied away again. She stood patiently, waiting for him to come to terms with the situation.

No matter how much he feared his own ability, it was ridiculous to think they could get anywhere with the muzzle in place, hindering his breathing and making it impossible for him to eat or drink.

She ignored the small part of her brain that pointed out that she didn't need to take the boy along, that she owed him nothing; that just because she freed him didn't mean she was now responsible for his well-being.

Yet, as she stared at his small, hunched figure, pallid skin and frightened eyes, she couldn't bring herself to abandon him. Maybe because he reminded her of herself as a child, when she still had hope that someone would come to rescue her. Maybe because now that she was on the doorstep of freedom, she was afraid of being alone. She didn't know.

She had no explanation for her attachment to the boy, but as she watched him take a hesitant step towards her out-stretched fingers, she vowed never to leave his side. She would protect him like no one had protected her, watch over him the way no one had watched over her.

He stopped a hairbreadth away from her, his wide eyes alighting on her person and she could read the shy permission in them. Gently, she traced a fingertip over the muzzle and watched it crumble, revealing sunken cheeks and thin, colorless lips. She gave him one of her grimace-smiles and with a responding twitch of his own lips, he turned to face the water fountain.

Glimpsing a vending machine out of the corner of her eyes, she made her way to it. The protective glass on its front was broken and most of its contents taken, but she still managed to find a bottle of water and some snacks.

A pleasantly warm feeling spread through her chest as she recognized the chocolate-coated raisins she had loved as a child. She looked around, trying to find something that could carry the items; she refused to leave any form of nourishment behind.

As if he had read her thoughts, the boy materialized beside her, an empty black hip pouch in his hands, shyly holding it up for her to inspect. His eyes lit up at her nod of approval and he shoveled everything that was left in the vending machine - the bottle of water, the chocolate raisins, two bags of chips and a large waffle - into the pouch.

The model must have been specifically designed for someone of bigger stature, for it was too wide for him to fix to his hip. He settled on attaching it diagonally over his chest instead, the strap resting against his shoulder.