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Venom: Beautiful Killers. Part 45

"Don't worry 'bout me, kid."

As Shiloh's limp self hangs back, Drinkwater and Livinia quietly push the Beetle out of the mine. It is a tight fit for the girls; there is barely any space for them to push and their worn out shoes slip on the ground as they press on. Livinia has the steering wheel with her right hand and is pushing with the other. Drinkwater is struggling with leverage more than her colleague is. She is lighter in weight and lacks the muscle tone of most of the other coywolves, but she tries her best.

The car is not that deep inside and they are free of the mine shaft in about five grueling minutes. Once outside, the girls shield their eyes to look ahead of them. Xanthippe is doing what she said she would do--keeping the red ones waylaid. Aleph's bodyguards have their backs to the situation and do not look like a problem. The girls are breathing laboriously, but their job is not done yet.

"You all right?" Drinkwater asks.

"Yeah. You?"

She doubles over and whispers, "I'm never pushing a car again."

"Don't die on me. We still have work to do."

"Okay. I'll get the legs. Front seat or back?"

"What?"

"Where do we put him?"

Livinia leaves the car and runs to the wolf, whose wounds have started to bleed again. His chest fur and trousers are soaked with blood. His back and head are covered in the dust of the mine now that his shirt is off. The normally classy wolf now looks half dead where he sits. "Shit!" Livinia coughs and spits angrily. "I didn't think of that. Let's just put him in front so we don't have to bother lowering the back seat."

"Good." Drinkwater slips, but keeps her feet as she runs to Shiloh. She grabs his ankles while Livinia grabs him under his arms. The wolf's head bobs as the girls struggle to move him. Drinkwater is moving backwards and almost bumps into the car as they maneuver to the passenger side.

"Don't you die on me too," Livinia says, looking down at the top of Shiloh's head. She opens the door while her partner drops his feet. As they grab his shoulders to guide him inside, Livinia keeps looking ahead at Xanthippe. The red coywolves have been kept at bay since they pushed the bug out of the mine. "You know, she's all right."

"Who is?" Drinkwater asks.

"The old broad. She's really strict and not very approachable, but she's also understanding and brave. I'd be proud to call her a sister...if only she would--"

"If only she would kill Aleph for us." Drinkwater grunts as she pushes Shiloh inside. She is doing most of the work while Livinia is distracted. She hoists the wolf on the seat, waking him up. Drinkwater gasps. "Sister, look."

"What is it?"

"Stop looking at her. His eyes are open."

Livinia bends down to see Shiloh gasping for breath. He stretches his arms and puts his hands on the glove compartment. He takes quick and forceful breaths, moaning from the pain. He looks weak, but is wired and focused. "What's happening?"

The question startles the girls. It was loud and unexpected. Livinia checks to make sure the red coywolves did not hear that while Drinkwater says, "You're still in the desert, but we're about to leave. We've got you and we're leaving now, okay?"

Shiloh looks past Drinkwater and sees Livinia looking away. He looks through the windshield to see what she is looking at. His eyes take a few seconds to get used to the heat, but he eventually spots Aleph's bodyguards. Immediately, he remembers where he is and tries to scamper out of the car.

"No! Stop!" Drinkwater holds the wolf's shoulders and gets Livinia's attention. Together, the coywolves pin Shiloh to the seat. He growls at the sight of the men in front of him, then bares his teeth at the girls.

"Please calm down. You're hurt. There's nothing you can do." Livinia is calmer and stronger than Drinkwater; she easily holds back the weakened wolf. He opens his mouth to talk, but she promptly shuts it, holding on to his muzzle with both hands. "Listen to me. Just get in the car and relax. We're taking you to a hospital."

"Hospital?"

Drinkwater presses his shoulders harder. "Please quiet down. They'll hear us."

Livinia clamps his mouth with more force. Taking a quick glance at the red coywolves, still no closer, she looks into Shiloh's eyes. "You're lucky to still be alive. You've obviously been in one hell of a fight. I don't know how it happened, but you escaped Aleph. However you did it, he's now sent his bodyguards to finish the job. They're distracted now, but we can't test fate. If we don't leave soon, they will kill you." She slowly releases his mouth and grabs his legs to help him in the car. She shakes as Shiloh stares at her, silently praying that he does not bite her head off. He eventually relents, still looking at the coywolves in the distance.

Drinkwater sits in the back and grabs the shoulders of the front seat tightly. "Get in here! Let's go!"

Livinia wastes little time and shoves the keys in the ignition. "They'll hear this. Which way to do I turn?"

"Right," Shiloh answers. His voice is frail and raspy. The surprised girls stare at him for a second before Livinia turns the engine over. Just as predicted, the noise alerts the bodyguards, but before they get any closer, the car starts to move. Livinia stamps the accelerator and the tires spew sand everywhere. A couple of seconds after spinning its wheels, it lurches forward and speeds out of the area. The red ones chase as fast as their powerful legs can take them, but they were already well far behind.

Drinkwater looks through the windshield behind her and watches the bodyguards slow down and eventually stop while the car escapes them. She cannot help but chuckle a little when they disappear completely.

"Water," Shiloh says.

Livinia is having trouble turning the steering wheel and barely hears what was just said. After she straightens, she looks at him worriedly. "You just say something?"

"Water...quickly."

She nods back. "He wants a drink."

Drinkwater scoffs. "That's too bad. The only water we had left is in the mess tent...and we're sure as hell not going back there."

Shiloh heaves a heavy sigh and clamps his hands on the glove compartment. His head hangs and his throat gurgles. His teeth clench and grind with a lot of friction and his eyes roll back. The wounds on his body threaten to do what Aleph's knife couldn't.

Drinkwater sees the wolf's suffering and moves from behind the driver's seat. Now behind Shiloh, she reaches out and gently rubs his shoulders. "Just lean back, okay? Don't strain too much. You'll only make it worse. Trust me, I know." She caresses his shoulders until he takes her advice. He rests his back on the seat and leans his head to face the ceiling. Drinkwater tries to smile. "That's it. Just relax, okay?"

Livinia slows down to navigate the now-rugged terrain. She is now able to look at the couple beside her. "Look at him. He's not relaxed."

Just like that, Drinkwater's spirits are deflated. "I know. Let's just hope he can stand the pain."

Shiloh strains to watch the road. He presses his hands on the covered gash just below his neck and tries to swallow. He still strains to say, "Turn right here." The swallowing did not help and his voice sounds worse than before.

Livinia obeys tentatively. "You shouldn't talk anymore."

"But we don't know where to go." Drinkwater continues massaging the victim's shoulders. "He could tell us the direction he came from and get us to the city faster. It would take forever if we did this by ourselves."

"How would he be able to tell anyway? Everything around us looks the same."

Shiloh strains to keep his eyes open, but the pain and the heat overwhelm his senses. He gives two more orders, two left turns, and leans back on the chair. His wheezing pants make the girls uncomfortable. Drinkwater massages harder, but knows she is doing little.

Livinia's head is all over the place; she struggles with the wheel while trying to concentrate. She keeps looking at the wolf for help but increasingly regrets having him in the car. "This area doesn't look familiar to me!"

"Stop!"

Livinia slams the brakes and turns to face Drinkwater. "What?! What is it?!"

"Shiloh's passed out!" She shakes his shoulders harder and faster, but the wolf's head only bobs and eventually sinks down until it hits the glove compartment.

"Shit!" Livinia parks the vehicle and grabs Shiloh's face.

"He was drooling and his eyes were bulging out." Drinkwater pants and releases his shoulders. "I don't think he's coming back."

"Come on, man! Wake up!" She squeezes his face in her hands, but he has all the resilience of a rag doll. She tries to hold him back, but fails. His nose smashes into hers as he falls limply.

"What the hell are you doing?! You're not helping!"

"Neither are you!" Livinia pushes the wolf back into his seat and looks at her companion. Their stressed eyes stare one another down, one pair silently judging the other. Livinia takes a couple of deep breaths and takes the key out of the ignition. She leaves the car before Drinkwater can ask questions.

She is, easily, the most mature coywolf in the commune, despite Xanthippe being the oldest. She was the most composed of the plotters who hired Shiloh and she knows the desert as much as Aurora does. However, Livinia looks completely lost right now. The dust from the car surrounds her, causing her to squint and making her more nervous. She covers her mouth with her fingertips and looks at the fading wolf. "Oh, my God," she whispers.

Drinkwater climbs out of the car, shaking with anger and disbelief. "Why'd you stop?!"

"Oh, my God...." She looks at her partner, then at Shiloh. She closes her eyes and starts to heave. "Oh, my god...oh, my god...ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod...."

Drinkwater runs to her and slaps her face. "Stop doing that!"

Livinia blinks several times and quickly regains her focus. The sight of her friend right in her face slows her breathing and causes her to drop her head. "I'm sorry."

Drinkwater grabs her hands. "Me too. Just stay with me, okay? I don't know this area. You do. You just need to think. Where are we?"

"Give me a minute, okay? Aurora's better at tracking than I am. I rely more on landmarks to guide me."

"So stop shaking and look around. Just pretend that we don't have a dying man in our car. Just pretend that it's Monday and you're walking to work. Where would you go if you ended up here?"

Livinia nods and gently pushes Drinkwater out of her way. With the dust settling, she can see clearly enough to make out the shapes in the distance. She wipes her eyes with her palms and releases a determined sigh. "Okay, I see something."

"What exactly?"

"There's a mesa in the distance that I pass...right over there." She points to her left and clears her throat. "Every time I reach it, it means I'm about an hour away from my destination."

"So let's head there then! No need to panic like that! You're scaring the piss out of me!"

Drinkwater forces a nervous laugh. Livinia wipes a tear from her left eye as they head to the vehicle. She looks at the dying wolf and grits her teeth. "Hang on, man. I know where I'm going now."

The engine starts and the accelerator is hit. In no time at all, the car is on its way, cutting through the desert at more than fifty miles an hour. It looks like a rally car in a race, going at half the speed. Drinkwater has her hands on Shiloh's seat. She is not trying to revive the wolf anymore; only looking at his limp body slumped forward. Livinia grips the steering wheel like her life depends on it. She keeps taking quick glances at Shiloh. She eventually increases her speed and grits her teeth angrily. The speedometer needle hits seventy.

"How far away is it?" Drinkwater asks. She never takes her eyes off the wolf.

"We've reached the mesa. At this rate, it's an hour by foot. I don't know where the nearest hospital is though."

Drinkwater nods and leans back. "We'll find one. It's good that you're on the right track."

"I know. Good thing too; it turns out following Shiloh's directions was moving us in circles."

The mesa comes and goes, passing by the right side of the car. Livinia eases her grip on the wheel and slows down to navigate the rougher terrain. The smaller shrubs that pop up out of nowhere threaten to do damage to the tires. The car's suspension is having a hard time of it as well. The girls have to go through some uncomfortable bounces. Shiloh's head bobs and trails, but the seatbelt keeps the rest of him in place.

While Livinia drives, Drinkwater looks around nervously. She steals glances at Shiloh while observing the changing landscape. It looks like everything here is new to her; she keeps looking at the rear windshield, longing for home. More than thirty minutes pass before anybody talks.

"The ground looks different here," Drinkwater says.

"Were gonna be at the outskirts in a few minutes. If we drive through here, we'll eventually reach Hell's Gate."

"Where?"

"Hell's Gate is the name of the area. We go through there to State Route 190. We'll reach civilization."

"I heard the word hell. I don't like the sound of that."

"Shouldn't be long now."

"He hasn't moved in a while."

"He'll make it."

The girls are much less nervy now than when they started this trip. Drinkwater has stopped shaking and Livinia drives steadily on the smoother ground. At this moment, it seems the girls are resigned to having the seriously injured wolf in their car. They look so used to it in fact that they hardly look concerned for his well-being.

In the distance appears a stretch of paved road with dividing lines. Livinia laughs with great relief and Drinkwater whispers something under her breath. They are both nervous as the car slows down to navigate the road. Two minutes later, they are just a few yards away from the road when the car comes to a sudden stop.

The paved road is sparsely decorated by small, green shrubs and a couple of signposts that indicate Highway 190. There are more signposts further away. Drinkwater forgets about Shiloh for a moment and smiles at the sight. "I haven't seen real pavement in years."

Livinia's happy face disappears as she stares at the road intensely. She leans forward until her chest touches the steering wheel. The forceful breaths through her nostrils point to something wrong up ahead.

Drinkwater looks on confusedly. "What's up? You okay?"

She shakes her head in a deathly response. "Look over there. It's near the curve, about fifty yards away."

She follows Livinia's lead and leans forward. Her eyes try to follow the same curve and keep an eye on Shiloh at the same time. Her partner is quite tense, so her own breathing quickens. Besides the shrubs, signs, and the silhouette of a car, there seems to be nothing interesting. Drinkwater shrugs. "What am I looking at?"

"Cop car."

"What? Where?" She points at the car in the distance. "That little thing?"

"Its back is to us. It's got an antenna on the trunk. It's a telltale sign."

"To what?! Who told you that?!"

"Aleph, of course. He was in law enforcement for years. I've got no reason to doubt him. That's an unmarked cop car."

Drinkwater shrugs again and leans back. "Listen. The longer you wait here, the closer-to-home Shiloh gets. And by 'home,' I don't mean L.A. You gotta move."

"We can't take the chance."

"Are you kidding me? You don't really believe anything Xanthippe said back there, do you?"

"Well...she's scared me enough that I'm not willing to risk passing that car with a dying wolf in the front seat."

"Oh...my God." Drinkwater sucks in a pained breath through her teeth and presses her hands to her forehead. "Oh, my God! We're gonna leave him in the middle of the street, aren't we?!"

Livinia looks at her like she was just offended by the question, then looks at Shiloh and swallows.

"Just drive, Livinia. They won't stop us."

"I have my job to think about. We've got to recoup the money we spent. So we cannot get caught. I don't want to be held for questioning. We'd never get away with this. You know that."

"Suppose that was_a cop car and it _did stop us. It wouldn't be a bad thing to tell them the truth. 'We didn't do this to him, but we know who did.' Would that be so wrong?"

"Expose the commune?"

"It would do what Aurora wanted!"

"It would also put everyone there in police custody! Or get them killed when Aleph resists! Aurora's original plan had us taken by another commune, not taken out of the desert entirely!"

"But that's...." Drinkwater suddenly covers her mouth and ducks, hiding herself behind the front seats.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Car!"

Livinia looks forward just in time to see a black SUV speed past them. It was going so fast, the occupant probably just glanced at the Beetle without thinking too hard about it. The coywolves, let alone Shiloh, would most likely not have been seen.

"Is it gone?"

Livinia shakes her head. "I'm going to do it. Forgive me, hitman."

"Wait! Wait a minute...." Drinkwater cannot get the words in before Livinia leaves her seat. Before she can object, Livinia has pulled Shiloh off his seat and on the barren ground. "What are you doing?!"

"You just hid from a passing nobody. You're not ready to face the police. Help me with him." Livinia scoops her hands into his armpits and waits while Drinkwater grabs his ankles. "We'll carry him a few feet and leave him on the side of the road. Nobody driving here will miss him. If that car up ahead is a cop car, then Shiloh will be in good hands in no time."

"I hate this."

"Don't worry. It'll be over soon."

With Drinkwater moving backwards and Livinia guiding her, the females walk several yards away from the car. The wolf has never looked more lifeless in their care. Drinkwater has to look at his face as they move, making her more desperate than ever to return home. She speeds up accordingly. Livinia is more mad than scared. She has never been this unsure before and she hates this feeling. Earlier, she was worried about him. Now, she is more worried about herself.

A minute after leaving the car, they have carried Shiloh quite a distance. They are running on adrenaline, which counteracts the sun's browbeating effects. The surroundings are so quiet, their breathing sounds about as loud as a passing car.

Livinia strains and slumps, dropping the wolf on his backside. "Let's stop. Right here's good enough."

Drinkwater immediately drops his legs and backs away. The girls look at the wolf, splayed on the ground with his right arm on the road itself. They stand there for a minute, wondering what to do next. They would surely draw suspicion if anyone driving by saw them.

"Okay, let's go back," Drinkwater says. She starts to back away, but Livinia is not moving.

"Wait a moment. Let's cover all our bases."

"I hate it when you speak like a city-dweller. I don't know what that means."

Livinia takes a couple of deep breaths and suddenly runs to Shiloh. She pushes him on his belly, pushing him further into the road. She unties the strips of clothing that are keeping his wounds covered. After she unties the two around his chest, she throws them to Drinkwater, standing a couple of feet behind her.

"Don't do that! He'll bleed out!"

"If he does, he's in good hands either way." Livinia undoes the two strips of clothing tied to his belly and keeps them. She watches Drinkwater pick up the other two strips and nods. "Now they'll have nothing that leads back to the commune."

The girls run to the car. They toss the bloodied strips that used to be Drinkwater's dress behind them and drive off as quickly as possible. A minute later, Hell's Gate is a mile behind them.

"I know you're sad. I am too. But as soon as we return, we'll forget this ever happened." Livinia slows down and spits through the open window. "He's no longer our responsibility."

"What about Aurora? Her plan's failed. By now, Aleph knows everything."

"Hopefully not. Hopefully, she's all right."

Drinkwater hangs her head and clasps her hands on her lap. She takes a deep breath and mumbles something only slightly audible. Livinia notices her and slows down even more.

"Are you stopping?" Drinkwater asks.

"We don't have to hurry. If you're praying, say one for me to, okay?"

"You think he's gonna make it?"

"Well, I'll say this for him. He's probably proven me wrong. He went toe to toe with Aleph...and survived. He could be dead now or he could die later in some medical facility, but he's earned my respect. Totally."

Drinkwater sniffs and wipes her eyes. She is about to cry. It hardly helps that her palms are now covered in the wolf's blood. She looks at her friend and asks, "You think we are gonna make it?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Pamila is sleeping on the couch in her apartment. The television is on, flashing bright whites and yellows in the fox's face. The volume is low, but still clear. A flurry of dancing captions appear on screen, indicating that it is time for the six o'clock news. Then a couple of faces pop up--a male fox on the left and a human woman on the right. As they start moderating, Pamila shifts her face away from the light.

The human starts the first story. "Our top story. Not two weeks after the funeral for campaign staffer Pamela Daltrey, we have another death to report. Early last night, around 6:30 p.m., a body was found floating in Malibu Pier. It has been confirmed that the body is that of twenty-four year old Princeton Reed, a Stanford graduate and father of two. He recently started work as an internet communications director for the Cartwright campaign...."

Pamila shifts again, opening her eyes halfway. She leers at the television, scoffing at the face of the California governor. "Big deal," she says with a yawn.

"...The autopsy is happening as we speak, but police have told us that they suspect foul play. Even though Mr. Reed was found in the water, there are signs that say he was already dead beforehand."

One of the police officers, a Doberman, appears on screen for a sound bite. The sight of the officer makes Pamila rise from her back. She sits on the edge of the couch to get a good look. Cliff is on screen, in his usually angry manner, vowing justice for the fallen campaign employee. Pamila gasps after a few seconds. It looks like she knows him. The gasp is frightened and spiteful all at once. The feeling is weird; she looks like she wants to turn the television while throwing something at it. Her breathing kicks up and her naked feet scrunch.

Cliff is looking directly at the camera, but he might as well be looking directly at the fox. The news short cuts quickly between the reporter and the Doberman. The volume is too low to hear over the breathing. Pamila closes her mouth and leaves the couch. Closing in on the TV, she nervously awaits the next sound bite.

"No, I do not believe that there is a conspiracy against the Governor of California. Any such thoughts only complicate our cause and the LAPD categorically condemns any attempt to dredge up any such thing. We don't need 'theories.' We need tips. If any such tips show that there is a connection with the other deceased members of Governor Cartwright's campaign, then we will act accordingly."

Cliff looks like an old, frayed veteran. He is wearing a police cap and the blowing wind wisps his hair into his face. His eyes look sunken in, the result of a hard day's work. There is a bandage underneath his right eye. Overall, he looks like he has seen better days.

"...Our leads to the restaurant bombing have dried up for now. As it is, we have no suspects, only persons of interest. We also haven't completed our interviews. But we get closer every day and the perpetrator is always one day away from being caught. We won't let the case get cold."

Pamila listens intently with folded arms and upright ears. She waits until the news story is over before breathing normally again. Relieved at the sound of Cliff's ignorance, she scoffs and turns the television off. "Whatever."

After a quick shower and couple of minutes of reading e-mails, the red fox makes the long trek outside the apartment building she calls home. She looks at the time--twenty minutes past six--and heaves a heavy sigh. She is dressed up in all black again; it is the attire she has been wearing to her janitorial duties in the Rapid Recovery building. She has traded her usual black T-shirt for a regular, cotton shirt with buttons. She has on black jeans and black sneakers. For a slight change of pace, she has put on a cap. It is also black. Its décor is the insignia of a minor league sports team. There are no holes on the hat, so her ears are covered.

The rain starts as soon as she turns the ignition and only picks up with time. The trip is gloomy, but no more so than her mood. Her face is really sour, as if she is driving somewhere she hates. Sure enough, when she sees her destination, she closes her eyes and growls for a few seconds. Her red car makes it to Rapid Recovery in about twenty minutes.

The sight outside the front door surprises her. She silently mumbles something as she sees a couple of cars parked on the front lot. "On a Sunday?" She stops in the middle of the lot and stares at the front door. The lobby light is on and the blinds are open for some reason. She can just make out a vacuum cleaner being moved. Not willing to brave the heavy rain, she parks the car horizontally in front of the door, dangerously close to the steps. Before she can extinguish the car, the headlights shine on a relatively new Harley Davidson vehicle. That bike is dangerously familiar. Winter is in the building. Upon seeing it, the fox closes her eyes and takes the biggest, longest breath she can. Once she exhales, she simply nods and says, "Good."

It takes her mere seconds to get inside after parking; the rain hardly touches her. The carpet has been vacuumed and the usual window streaks are gone. She takes a few seconds to sniff the air around her. Pleased by the scent, she ekes a little smile and heads for the hallway. She is walking quietly through the hall, trying to pick up on any noises or voices. This action is unlike her; she usually announces her presence boldly and loudly. The white wolf is nearby however, and their last couple of meetings has not gone well.

Pamila passes the two restrooms. The executive suite is just up ahead. The blinds are closed, so she cannot tell at first if anybody is in there. But when she gets closer, she hears a couple of deep voices. She stops where she is and waits. She looks like a much bigger, feral animal, ready to pounce on a juicy morsel. Her face is the only body part reacting though. The rest of her is calm and loose.

The door to the conference room opens. Even though she was waiting for something like this, her mouth gapes in surprise and she quickly looks behind her. She heads for the restrooms but does not enter either one. She instead gets a look at the person exiting. Robert Crevecoeur trots out slowly and glumly; his hands are in the pockets of his brown dress slacks. His demeanor gives him away; he is down about something.

Even though Crevecoeur is not someone she has a disagreement with, Pamila decides that she does not want to be seen. She heads for the women's restroom and opens the door, but stops to short of entering. She continues to look at the executive in all his sad glory.

Crevecouer sighs impatiently and looks toward the open door. "Thanks for everything, Joe. See you on Monday. Let's go, girl."

As Pamila looks on, Winter exits the executive suite. She thanks the person inside and slowly closes the door behind her. As quickly as she can, the fox changes her mind and leaves the women's room for the men's. She enters halfway and keeps her head outside to observe the wolf.

Winter is dressed as casually as she has ever been while in this building. Her short-sleeved shirt and white tennis shorts show off her rather long physique. Pamila does a double take at her long, white legs. She is also wearing a big smile as she shows off a stack of bills she holds in her right hand. "Well, that was quite fun."

"Here, let me hold all that. You've got no pockets."

She chuckles and hands over the cash. "Thanks again for this, really. I needed the pick-me-up."

"And you did well with the negotiations."

"Is this what haggling is like?"

"Well, haggling's more math than science. This wasn't haggling. This was explaining your case and making a play for compensation."

Winter laughs and directly faces him, turning her back to the fox. "And what compensation!"

"So, would you say you've been reimbursed adequately for your...tiger problems?"

"I won't lie. I would much prefer to get Matthew Ambrose back from them, but this'll do. But what if Ted finds out?"

Crevecoeur sighs and places the cash in his pockets. "Then I'll return the five grand to the treasure chest. I'll just take it out of my daughters' college fund." After pocketing the money, he looks up to see a shocked look on the wolf's face. He laughs in return. "Just kidding. Let's go home."

"Super. Just let me make a quick pit stop." She leaves him waiting by the VIVIAN CROSS door and runs towards the restrooms. The men's restroom door is closed once she passes it.

Pamila escaped detection just in a nick of time, closing the door right before Winter headed her way. She smartly chose the men's restroom to hide in. Now that the wolf is occupied, she can come out of hiding.

"Hi there!"

Startled, Pamila does a quick one-eighty and sees Tobias a couple of feet in front of her. "Dammit. You scared the piss out of me."

"Sorry. You here to work? I thought you were--"

"Quiet," whispers the fox. She passes the kid and heads for the wall furthest from the door and shushes him once more while she presses back against that wall.

"Why are we whispering?"

Pamila waits to answer, listening to the other side of the wall. Satisfied that Winter is in there, she sighs and approaches Tobias. "I'm trying to avoid someone. You got a job for me to do?'

He shrugs and stammers. "Well I haven't cleaned the chief's office yet, but--"

"Good. I'll do it. Give me something."

There are fresh towels on the sinks behind them, ready to be used. Tobias hands a couple of them to the fox without saying a word. She nods her thanks and quickly leaves the restroom. Her intention to run to Vivian Cross' office, but she slows down once she sees Crevecoeur standing by the door. She looks like she wants to avoid him also, and could easily do so by just turning the other way. But she presses on without complaint. When she is close enough for them to see each other, she nods at him.

He nods back. "Pamila."

"Robert."

"How've you been? What are you doing here on a Sunday?"

"Can't talk. Working." She quickly enters the chief's office and closes the door, leaving the executive to look on with some confusion. He hardly has time to dwell on it because Winter arrives seconds later.

"Now I'm ready," she says. "But do we have to go home?"

"Well...where would you like to go?"

"Drinking, of course. It's the only thing I have fun doing while Shiloh is away. Besides, you look like you could use one."

"Yeah well, The Shark Pit isn't exactly my favorite place. I also don't really feel like being with those killers this evening."

Winter leads the way through the hall. "Then let's go to Ted's new place. No killers there." She laughs loudly enough that Pamila can probably hear her. "Just the bosses of the killers. Big difference."

Crevecoeur's mood opposes that of the wolf quite jarringly. He turns away from the back her head to look at the hall doors as he passes them by. He grunts almost every time the wolf titters. "You mind telling me why you're so happy? It's only five thousand dollars."

"It's not just that," she says. She stops to face him as they enter the lobby. "For the first time since I took this job, I'm free of Shiloh. That is...I trust that he's okay so I don't have to worry. I've been able to fulfill my desires without always wishing he was here to share them with me." She resumes walking to the front door. "And I have you to thank for that. Tivoli too, but you get the bulk of the credit."

"Really? I don't see how. I've been down most of the week. All you've ever done is take pity on me."

Winter stops and turns again. "That's not...well, maybe a little true. But don't call it pity. I call it empathy. My missing Shiloh is nothing. He's still alive, after all. But whenever he's away, I think about my mom and dad. I miss them terribly because they were in the middle of molding me before they were taken away. Before they died, I had a sure future. Now, even though I haven't become what they wanted, I still give them credit for taking care of me when they did. You miss your wife just as strongly because you now have to raise your kids alone. Whenever I see the sorrow on your face, I think about my parents. It gets me closer to you."

Crevecoeur sighs. "I don't need pity, okay? And we don't need to share that shit. If I miss her and I'm sad about it, then that's fine. If I wanna be depressed, just let me be depressed. I can do my job depressed. You can't. All I care about is that you continue getting by without worrying about Shiloh too much. He's done this hundreds of times before and always comes back in one piece. As long as you don't worry, then everything is fine."

Winter smirks and embraces him. He is surprised by it, but tries not to show much emotion. "Well, thanks for that, but I'm not gonna let you stay depressed. We're going out for a drink. I'll take you to Ted's place and we're gonna get you drunk. I know you. You always feel better drunk." She releases him and looks at his face. His angry look makes her chuckle. "I'll let you drive the motorcycle. How about that?"

The wolf runs behind him and playfully pushes him out the door.

In the meantime, Tobias is finished with the men's room. He exits the room soaked with sweat and possibly water. His hands are trembling, but he manages to hold on to the spray of bathroom cleaner. He walks slowly to the chief's office and knocks before entering.

Pamila is sitting on the chief's chair. Her back is to the door; she is looking at the liquor cabinet again. It looks like she has cleaned the desk, but not much else. She notices the boy for a split second before turning back to the cabinet.

Tobias shakes his head. "Are you kidding me? You're just gonna look at that thing all night?"

"Hey, I wiped the table and the cabinet. They're the only things here that are even remotely dirty." She turns back to him and notices his state. "What the hell happened to you? You look like you've been doing aerobics instead of cleaning toilets."

"It's practically the same thing these days. The guys don't flush."

Taken by surprise with that last statement, Pamila stands. "What? Come again?"

"Look, it's a long story. I did something to Hoeness a long time ago and now his friends are getting revenge on me. They use the toilets and they don't flush. It's been going on for a while. I have to clean all that, because--"

"Because you won't give them the satisfaction of telling Mrs. Cross that you're not doing your job. What a bunch of weasels!" She sighs and tosses her towels on the clean desk. Her anger quickly dissipates upon seeing Tobias' sad posture. She walks around the desk and takes his equipment from him. "What a shit thing to do. The customers could see that. I'm so sorry kid. I didn't know. You could have told me."

"But there was no point. You hated me. You hate me now."

"Stop it. It's not that at all. I didn't hate you. I never did. I hated the job. You were just...in the way of my venting. That's all. I hate everything about it. I got smug looks from the guys, I've been disrespected by the execs, Mrs. Cross worst of all, I got my head dunked in a toilet, I'm getting into fights with Mr. Perfect's girlfriend...it's been a nightmare."

"You got what?!"

"I got...." Pamila suddenly drops the towels, grabs her ears tightly, and grunts loudly. Disappointed in herself, she closes her mouth and quickly turns away from the young man. Tobias watches on as she despondently sits back down in front of the liquor cabinet. "Okay. Now you know. I suppose, since the boys gossip so much, you'd find out soon enough. They dunked my head in the toilet. It was Dunn, with his stupid, girly hands."

The sadness from Tobias has been replaced with curiosity. The strong woman he has kept his distance from, the tough vixen who had been close to hurting him several times, has lost some of that power over time.

Pamila leans forward to get a good look at the Scotch on the top drawer of the cabinet. "Well, now you know I'm no better than you. I'm worse even. They seem to pick on us in equal measure, but you're related to an executive, so they won't touch you. Thanks to Dunn though, they know they can touch me." She caresses the cabinet and calms down, as if one had to do with the other.

He walks past the desk and stands next to her. "Well, at least you're almost done. You can go back to hunting now. I thought Friday was your last day. Why'd you come today?"

"Well, I was given this work on a Sunday. I just thought I'd finish it on a Sunday, just so that the entire month is covered. Besides, after this job, I'll make an even five hundred dollars from cleaning. It'll be good enough to buy this new pair of shoes I got my eyes on."

Tobias nods. "Well, you've had a long month. You certainly deserve something."

Pamila stands, picks up what she dropped, and turns to leave. The boy backs away to let her pass. "Look, let's call it an early night. You deserve that."

"The conference room hasn't been cleaned yet. Mr. Luisi's still in there. I have to wait until--"

"You know what? Screw him. Those guys can survive a dirty office. Just let me put these towels away, then I'll punch us out and...." She stops short of the door and turns back to face him. "How'd you get here? I didn't see your car outside."

"My mom dropped me off. She told me to call her after I was done."

"Then I'll take you home." She pulls the door open and steps through. "It's still early. How about I take you somewhere? Anywhere you'd like to go?"

"I can't go anywhere. I'm grounded."

"Still? Your mom is strict."

Tobias turns off the lights and follows the fox through the hall. He feels a little better about himself and shows it by letting off a small chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

He covers his mouth. "Nothing much. I just...if you don't mind my asking, who is Mr. Perfect's girlfriend?"

"Oh, what I said earlier." Pamila waits until she is in the lobby before answering. "I've forgotten her name. She...she's that white wolf. Shiloh's bitch."

"Winter."

"Yeah, that's it." The fox stops in front of the storeroom door. She touches the knob but doesn't enter. "You like her, don't you? Kinda like last year, when you were crushing hard on that stupid Maltese."

Tobias tries not to show his smile. "Well, she's Uncle Creve's friend, so she likes me too. I don't know how I feel about her yet. I prefer Mariana. I miss her very much."

"Ugh. Don't say her name. Don't say Shiloh's bitch's name either."

"You hate Winter? What for?"

"I don't hate her, per se. I hate that I know of her. You gotta really know someone before you hate 'em."

"You're fighting her? Big mistake. She's quite tough."

Pamila shakes her head. "Harsh, kid. Now I know who you're rooting for." She opens the storeroom door and simply tosses the towels inside. "Let St. Croix worry about that. You ready to go?"

"Don't you wanna punch out?"

"I'll do it in the morning, when I make my triumphant return." She tries to smile, and does show her teeth, but only shrugs. "To be honest, it's just gonna be a regular return. I'm gonna walk into a room full of guys who don't give a shit and nothing will have changed."

The two walk out of the building side by side. They look like friends walking down the stairs together. The red car is right in front them, waiting for them to enter. "That's illegal," Tobias says.

Now Pamila laughs. It is a long, happy, relieved laugh that continues when she starts car. "That's the royal treatment, kid. Your car waiting for you right at the door. I try to park like this as often as I can." She closes her door and is ready to go.

Tobias enters slowly. "You're sitting on something."

"Huh?" Pamila looks between her legs and sees part of a piece of paper. She pulls it from under her and sees something written on it. She takes the time to read it and the glee on her face goes away.

"What's it say?" Tobias looks on as the fox turns angry. He stirs in his seat, as if he has something prickly under him. He tries to keep her from overreacting. "Could I see it? "

She has it half crumpled when he asks for it. She looks at him and sulks. "It's nothing," she says as she tosses it at the boy's feet.

Tobias picks it up and unfolds its creases. As the car jerks forward, he reads, "Bitch, you owe me five thousand for repairs. Winter." He crumples it and turns back to the fox. "This is serious. I've seen Winter mad. You don't want her mad at you. You won't survive. If Shiloh doesn't get to you first, then she'll...." He stops and stares at her in disbelief. She is laughing again, only louder and with a rebellious sting in it. "What's so funny?"

Pamila waits a few seconds before answering. "I just remembered something. Earlier today, I was at The Shark Pit for the first time in weeks...and Rory came up to me, offering to pay for my drinks. I returned the favor by cracking his skull with my glass." She laughs again, softer this time, and relaxes while stopped at a traffic light. "Can you believe he tried to make it up to me...weeks after the toilet dunking happened? He just stood there and did nothing...." She slowly starts to fume. "Now he wants to be friends? Who's he kidding?"

"Wow. I wish I could be there tomorrow when you return to the office. You're gonna set off some of those guys."

The fox nods and mellows again. "Don't worry 'bout me, kid. The guys will be too busy measuring each other's dicks to notice. If any of them wanna play, I'll play." She steps on the gas when the light turns green. "That goes for Winter too."