A Devil's Grace 1930

| Chapter Four |

They had a few days before her friends were going to come landing in Florida. If they moved nonstop, it'd only take fifteen, maybe sixteen hours at most. Of course, that was without stopping for much-needed fuel or counting the possibility that their vehicle was going to break down. Not that it was much of a problem, both of them go fly for hours with their pocketwatch operation orbs and the Military Grade Orb in which he had given her.

Tanya was nestled in the Jeep's passenger side seat, curled up in a ball. She had finished the chocolates and the silence had been awkward for a few hours now. Her gaze drifted to the fuel gauge on the dashboard.

"It's only been three hours, we're going into Virginia now," Valen chuckled seeing her dull gaze.

"Hm... How long until we have to stop for fuel?" Tanya moved into an upright position, her arms wrapped around her legs as she had brought them to her chest. 

Raising a brow at the Question Valen gave her a brief glance over, wondering why she was asking, not that it really meant anything bad. "About another hour, you need a pitstop?"

Tanya nodded lightly, "And a coffee."

Smirking as she said she wanted a coffee, he scratched the side of his head. "Just how much of those stipends of banknotes did you spend of coffee exactly?"

Hearing the question, she snorted to herself and rested her chin between her knees. "Too many places claimed to have the world's best coffee," she clicked her teeth in annoyance, almost childishly, "They will be proven wrong."

"Oh?" Valen shook his head hearing this, keeping his eyes forward.

Pulling off of the Federal Highway through an exit and into a small town at the border of Virginia, he slowed the jeep down to fifteen miles an hour. This place wasn't a coal-mining town, but there were plenty of factories here that had been open during the war. However, after the end, many of the workers had been laid off.

There were still very few cars here. In the entire Unified States, there were only twenty-three million cars that had been owned by private citizens. With the lack of middle-class and high-class people living in this town, there were few cars.

It was all the better for Valen either way, allowing them to move freely through the streets.

"Valen," Tanya wasn't used to wearing dresses, let alone unregulated attire. Even though she had been wearing them for the past three years, it just didn't feel right.

"Hm?" He pulled into the only gas station in the entire town and parked it in front of the pump.

"Would I... Be able to work with you in the group?" She wanted structure after having spent four years on the battlefield, constantly trying to make herself marketable.

It was probably similar to the feeling of a veteran returning home from war, not knowing how to fit in afterward. This may be a slightly different case. She is being hunted by Commie Scum and needed to feel secure, he could supply this.

Valen let out a sigh, generally knowing how she felt. There was very little security she could depend on in this country, considering the fact that they're scared shitless of the communists. "My group is going to be forming into a Private Security Firm since its scavenging days are coming to an end," his eyes drifted to her, "I'll see if I can get you in."

"Really?" A Private Security Firm didn't sound too bad, and they'd be armed. Though she wondered, where would they be based? The best location would probably be in Alaska. Founding a base out there in the wilderness may be a good idea. Or going to Canada, from her knowledge, they weren't really involved in many other worldwide conflicts. No one bothered with them at all really...