Subject A250: The Fallen

Twenty-Nine: Risk ACEssment

Minho forced the guards to show them where Newt was, insisting that they hadn't fulfilled their end of the deal; that they hadn't been shown to their friend yet. The guards had rolled their eyes a little, but led the way further through the palace, keeping away from the main areas. They wove a path through the back streets, stopping to look around each corner before beckoning the group through, aware that at any moment they could be ambushed. Funnily enough, Trace wasn't very worried about that; she'd been in situations far worse than this before, targeted directly by crazy crank gangs in cities and in the middle of the scorch, entirely on her own. Surviving that had given her some boost of confidence-- or was it cockiness? She couldn't tell.

They were ushered into a building, which looked like it had once been a mall of some kind; the empty stores had since been ransacked and vandalised with all kinds of strange graffiti. A scribbled name, a circled letter 'R', a creepy smiley face-- none of it made any sense to her. Flint was walking just ahead of her, but paused as they passed a line of red scribble which, yet again, made no sense to Trace.

"The Lion and the Lamb," she read aloud, stopping beside him to gauge his expression. "Sounds like a very unlikely friendship to me."

"It's a biblical term," Flint explained, staring at the words as if they were a puzzle to be solved. "Well, kinda-- I think it was misquoted at some point-- it's about hope, a new beginning, that kind of thing."

Trace stared at the wall a little longer. "Huh," she puffed, "I could do with some of that right now."

"Me too."

"You okay?"

Flint sighed. "Yeah. It just reminded me of someone I once knew."

Thomas called for them to catch up, so Trace gave Flint a reassuring pat on the back and headed after the group, walking at a fast pace. She glanced back to see Flint looking around, scanning the area as if that somebody might just show up, talking about some other combination of animal friends. Maybe the frog and the camel. Somehow, it didn't seem likely.

"C'mon, Flint," Trace called, beckoning him over. Flint nodded and jogged towards her. They reached the group again together.

"He's through there," one of the guards said, as they reached a set of double doors. "By the back, on the far side of the room."

Trace peered in. It was a bowling alley, just like a book, only it didn't look much like any bowling alley she'd want to use. People were scattered around the room, some sleeping on the lanes or across the counters.

"We want our money," the other guard ordered, blocking the door.

Trace stared him up and down. She could take this guy in a fight...maybe. She'd need a weapon of some sort....and a headstart. He'd also need to promise that he wouldn't fight back, but she could do it.

"You'll get double if you get us back to the Berg safely," Jorge replied.

Trace supposed actually giving them the money was an option too.

The two guards consulted for a minute before turning back to the group. "Triple," the second one ordered," and we want half of it now, so we know that you're not pulling our leg."

"That's a deal," Jorge agreed. He touched his card to the guard's, somehow magically transferring the money. Trace tried not to look too confused-- this was supposed to be a part of daily life for her. She didn't want to give the whole group away just by staring at two cards touching.

"We'll wait here," one of the guards promised. "Enjoy your stay."

"We will." Trace power-walked into the room, spotting Newt immediately. She stopped in her tracks, not sure how to go about this. Minho was beside her in less than a second.