Before I Ran || Perrentes

Chapter 3: Hit the Road

They walked back into the building side by side, and Tony took in his surroundings. When Mike had carried him in yesterday he'd been unconscious, and so had not had a look at the place.

It was nowhere to yell about. It was old and not all that well kept, with dirt and grime gathering in the corners of the lobby and cracks in the off-white floor tiles. The light fittings were in desperate need of dusting and the windows could have done with a scrub down.

At the mail slots was a short man who looked to be in his forties. He looked up as he heard the steady, determined thump of the pair's feet across the tiles. His eyes passed straight over Mike and found Tony, and something instinctively made Tony fidget uncomfortably beneath his gaze. But the man smiled as he sorted through his mail, and Tony smiled back. He seemed vaguely non-threatening; stout and with a permanently sad face and a head of thinning hair. Tony reasoned his unease was down to his shattered nerves from the previous day, and disregarded the experience.

The elevator up to the third floor, which is where Mike's apartment was, was not much of an improvement on the lobby - it seemed to be a little short on maintenance, jarring slightly on elevation, and the doors didn't open particularly smoothly. The rails inside the elevator were dusty and the mirror on the back was covered in a thin layer of spotted mould.

"I know it isn't much," Mike said sheepishly as the elevator opened on the third floor and they stepped out onto the hallway, "but it's enough for what we do. We basically live here for free, because my nana illegally sublets the apartment. And since we spend the majority of the time hopping back and forth across the country, we spend most of the money we have on food and gas, so everything we can save...we have to. It's not like I'd choose to live outside the law, but we don't have that many options."

"It's not so bad," Tony shrugged. "At least it's your own."

Tony looked around as Mike turned the key in the slot of the third door down the corridor. The hallway had a singular window at the end, allowing in a miserable slot of light to spill across the scuffed and cigarette-burned carpet. The hallway itself was nothing special - but the view out of the window was something to look at. Tony saw the tall spires of San Diego city, saw the traffic zooming between buildings, saw the sun shining down on the world. He didn't often go places where he saw a view like this, so it was a pleasant experience while it lasted.

Mike allowed him to go into the apartment first before shutting the door behind him. Inside, Jaime was laying out supplies on the table in neat columns and piles, covering up the map beneath, whilst Vic scribbled messily in a notepad and put a long strikethrough through a bullet point on what appeared to be a long list.

"The car needs gas," Mike said, not sitting down and instead taking his jacket from the peg, shrugging it on and checking his wallet was in it. "I'll fill her up to get her to the first gas station but no more. I'm waiting on a bank transfer tomorrow and I can't afford any more than necessary."

"No problem," Jaime nodded. "Could you get me a Malteasers bar?"

Tony stifled an involuntary laugh as he looked between the other two. Jaime's face was plain and sincere, and Mike looked baffled. "Dude, what?"

"You know. A Malteasers bar. It's like Malteasers, but in a chocolate bar. It's cool."

"I can't get you a Malteasers bar."

Jaime sagged and stopped taking items out of a canvas shopping bag. "I'll share."

"Dude!" Mike repeated, half laughing. "When I say I can't afford it I mean I can't afford it. You can get a Malteasers bar when we stop for gas next time."

Mike left without saying another word, shaking his head, and Jaime half smiled to himself in consolation before assuming his unpacking duties. "I might not want one next time."