up even temporarily.”
“I'm not most mercs.”
“You're more merc than anything else,” Lexa shakes her head, “Always were.”
“Long as no one else turns up here.”
“Prob'ly the next person who'd come lookin' for you is your husband.”
“Husband?” Brina raises an eyebrow.
“He isn't on the continent.”
“Yeah, well, you two have very different ways of copin',” Lexa shrugs it off, “Undoubtedly he'll turn up when he's ready.”
Brina frowns, “So... what...?”
Amy chuckles, turning to her, “I'm not goin' anywhere just yet. You're far from finished your lessons.”
“I kinda figured.”
“Well, I already told you I'm on my way elsewhere,” Lexa reminds them, “You need or want anythin' else, you'll have to get someone else to get it for you.”
“I think I've got anythin' I need for now.”
April-69
As Amy is walking past the front of the building, she spots a paper tacked to the boards over the door. Going over to investigate, she finds a notice from the city. A frown forms as she reads through the information, deepening rapidly when she realizes the implications. Leaving the paper where it is, she goes around to the basement entrance and lets herself in.
Brina is inside, working on some of her tools, but glances up when Amy enters. On seeing the woman's expression, the teen frowns.
“What happened?”
“That developer's plan was approved,” Amy helps herself to a drink from the cooler before sitting, “We have three weeks 'fore they knock the whole area flat.”
“Three weeks?” Brina swallows hard, glancing around the basement which has served as their home for eight years, “Where do they expect everyone to go?”
“The people will resettle... find new homes,” Amy opens her drink and swallows some of the liquid, “The developer an' city council 're right. This area's an eyesore. There's nothin' left to salvage except the people.”
“But it's home to...” Brina breaks off on seeing the woman shake her head, “You've lived here way longer than anyone... longer than anyone's grandparents... how can you not care?”
“Sometimes change is necessary,” Amy's eyes meet the teen's, “Sometimes you have to let go an' move on. It isn't about caring or not caring.”
Brina blinks, swallowing hard, “Where could we even go? Maybe we don't have much, but to not have a home anymore...”
“We'll have a home,” Amy takes a deep breath, “Pack what you need for work or absolutely can't live without.”
“Today?”
“We'll go once you're packed.”
Brina frowns, “What about you?”
“I have anythin' I'll need.”
“So as soon as I've packed my stuff?” Brina shivers, “That's...” She shakes her head, “I don't have a job today, so I might as well pack once I'm done with this.” She returns to the task she had been working on.
Amy watches silently, sipping her drink, while the teen finishes her work on her tools.
That done, Brina packs everything away neatly in a hardened leather case. The case is the first thing packed into an ancient old backpack which has been lying around. She adds any other equipment she needs for her jobs and all her clothing. Then she pauses in the middle of the floor, surveying the basement which looks much more like a home than when they had first moved in. Finally, she shakes her head and zips up the backpack.
“All done?” Amy eases herself to her feet.
Brina nods, “Let's just go.”
Amy leads the way out of the basement, pausing to padlock the door, before mounting the steps to the street. Brina keeps close, growing increasingly nervous as they walk through the streets. They leave the neighbourhood they have lived in for as long as Brina can remember and cross the city to an area of wider streets and much larger, better cared for homes. Beyond that, they reach a subdivision filled with walled and gated mansions. Brina shrinks close to Amy, who is paying more attention to the street numbers than anything else. Eventually, she stops to open one of the gates and usher Brina onto a property no different from the others around it. Amy follows a narrow stone path to a side entrance into the garage and stretches up, her fingers feeling along a crack beside the door frame. Coming up with a key, she unlocks the door, replaces the key, and ushers Brina into a huge garage containing a single small car.
“What is this place?”
“I'll explain later,” Amy leads the teen across the garage and up an inside staircase. At the top, they follow a hallway to the main foyer. An elderly woman appears from one of the rooms on the far side. She studies Amy with widening eyes before shaking her head.
“Ma'am,” The elderly woman swallows hard, “Did you just arrive in town?”
“Not exactly,” Amy takes a deep breath, “Mrs Gurail?” She waits for the woman to nod before turning to Brina, “This is the housekeeper, Mrs Gurail,” Addressing the elderly woman again, she continues, “This is Brina. She'll need rooms... probably for a while.”
The elderly woman nods, “Yes, ma'am.” She disappears up the stairs.
Brina gazes wide eyed around the foyer before turning to Amy, “You... own... this place.”
“It's one of the properties included in the estate my husband controls,” Amy leads the girl into the dining room where they can sit until the housekeeper returns, “I haven't been here since Mrs Gurail was newly appointed housekeeper... she was much younger then. But it's a roof over our head the city won't attempt to knock down.”
“I guess,” Brina swallows hard, “Now what?”
“You finish training,” Amy's eyes meet the teen's, “You'll have access to the library here an' I'll be takin' you to a range for firearms trainin'. You're also comin' up on old enough to learn to drive an' if you want to do that, there're people I'll need to talk to 'bout the arrangements.”
Brina slowly nods, “I don't have any ID. I'm not sure my birth was even registered.”
“There're ways around that,” Amy shrugs it off, “Right now, you need some time to settle in here. You're also gonna learn a few things 'bout copin' in polite society.”
The teen makes a face, “I'd never pass for anythin' 'cept a street rat.”
Amy chuckles, “You'd be surprised what a street rat can be capable of.”
Brina studies the woman critically, “Did you really grow up on the street somewhere?”
Amy nods, “Not here,” She sighs, “Not anywhere that exists now.”
“Your home was destroyed?” Brina shivers.
“The entire town burnt to the ground one summer an' it was decided it wasn't worth rebuildin'.”
“A whole town?” The teen looks sceptical.
Amy shrugs it off, “A whole town worse than the neighbourhood we just left. 'Tween that an' the Church, there isn't much out there these days.”
“The Church.” Brina scowls.
“It is what it is an' it seems to be here to stay a while.” Amy does not say anything more because the housekeeper enters the room.
“Ma'am, the master suite is open for you. A suite beside it has been opened for the young lady.”
“Thank you.” Amy stands, indicating for Brina to accompany her. Leaving the dining room, they go upstairs. At one end of the hallway which runs the width of the house, Amy ushers Brina through an open door.
“Take some time to settle in an' unpack. I need to make a call.”
“Okay.” Brina swallows hard as she looks around the first room.
Leaving her there, Amy goes down to the telephone in the library. It takes her a moment to remember the number she wants. Once she does, she dials and then listens to it ring and ring and ring. Finally, a breathless female voice answers.
“Hello, Austlan House.”
“It's Amy. I need some of my belongings shipped to the house in Settlement City.”
“Yes, ma'am. What would you like?”
“My motorc
ycle an' helmet. My saddlebags, which should have all my tool an' weapon kits in them. My ID an' bank cards. My wedding rings,” Amy pauses to think for a moment, “That should be everythin'. Has Malcom been in touch?”
“No, ma'am. To the best of my knowledge, he and Will are at Belstrand. I'll have your belongings shipped as soon as possible.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything else, ma'am?”
“Not today. I'll call if I need anythin' else.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Amy hangs up the receiver, but remains near the telephone for a time before leaving the library and going upstairs to check on Brina.
“So how's this gonna work?” Brina scowls at the papers on the table in front of her, “I don't know any of this.”
“Once we get through these, you'll legally be my ward,” Amy rolls a pen across the table, “So one blank at a time. You know your first name.”
The teen nods and picks up the pen to fill in the first space on the form.
“You'll use my family name since you don't remember any names from your own family. K-R-E-S-S.”
Brina frowns, but writes on the third space, “I don't need a middle name, do I?”
“Most people on this continent don't even have one. This form is usually used for immigrants.”
The teen looks up at her, “Do you?”
“Amy is my middle name.” The woman's expression turns wry. A moment later, she moves on, “Write unknown in the spaces for your parents' names.”
“Okay.” Brina does as instructed, “What about my birth date? I guess I was born here, but I'm not even sure how old I am. Or do you remember?”
“February, fifteen years ago.”
Brina makes a face, “You don't remember the specific day?”
“You were born at a
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