Page 131 of Gunslinger Girl
“Go on,” called Luster. “It’s just a few miles. We’ll see you when we see you.”
“Just a few miles,” Pity echoed and climbed onto the train. “Hardly anything at all.”
EPILOGUE
From the Drakos-Pryce compound, Pity could see all of Columbia, spreading down the coast in both directions. She stepped closer to the picture window, so near that her breath left a fog on the glass. It was beautiful—majestic and stern, its gray spires reaching into the clouds. Just as she’d always imagined it would be.
“Taking their damn time.” Siena paced across the room for the hundredth time. She’d been jumpy since they arrived in the city, and it was getting worse with each passing day. “Not enough space here,” she had said one night, talking into her liquor. “This city leans in on you like a chest cold.”
A week ago a dozen stern guards in black suits had met them at the train station and immediately taken custody of Max. Siena and Pity were escorted to a hotel, set up in rooms so luxurious that even Casimir looked drab by comparison, and told to wait. Since then, Pity had spent hours wandering the city, gaping at the soaring buildings and glittering glass. She had seen the museums and art galleries, the artfully landscaped parks, even walked along the sandy beaches, bare feet treading through the lapping waves.
Have you ever swum in the ocean?
Max never felt far away. Every moment she was aware that this was his world, the one he had so desperately avoided. And remembering that, she made herself look, really look, until the cracks in the gilded veneer showed themselves: the uniformed people whose heads hung low as they left the pantheon core of the city at day’s end; the beggars and veterans camped beneath bridges and overpasses; the angry graffiti scrawled in the alleys. It was all there if she looked hard enough.
Finally, the summons came. A sleek black vehicle carried them over a long bridge to an island, where it deposited them in front of the largest house Pity had ever seen. They were led through its echoing halls to a plush, sprawling sitting room.
An hour had passed since then.
No news was good news, Siena had told her. Payment depended on Max being returned alive. If he had died, the bounty hunter assured her, they would’ve been booted from their cozy digs.
That fact didn’t comfort Pity as much as she wanted. Her fingers worried at the fabric of her pants, her guns left behind at the hotel. “Do you think something is wrong?”
“Nope,” said Siena. “Our time ain’t worth what theirs is, that’s all.”
Moments later, the door creaked open. Pity straightened. She tried not to look as nervous as she felt, but her chest was tight, her stomach fluttery.
Jonathan Pryce entered first. He was a tall, narrow man with hazelnut-brown hair streaked silver. Piercing eyes caged behind delicate, rectangular glasses swept over Siena and then Pity. Alanna Drakos stood a head shorter but seemed bigger than him somehow, with striking green eyes, a joyless mouth, and thick, dark hair pulled back with combs. Between them, Pity could just see Max, a composite with every sharp edge removed.
“Ms. Bond,” Alanna Drakos said. “Lovely to finally meet you.”
Her tone suggested otherwise, but Siena nodded civilly. “Mrs. Drakos, Mr. Pryce.”
“Who is this?” said Jonathan Pryce.
“My new assistant,” said Siena simply. “Serendipity.”
“What a pretty name.” Max’s mother barely glanced at Pity. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that our son is doing nicely. Our doctors assure us that with a few months of close attention, he’ll make a full recovery. We owe you our thanks.”
Pity let out the breath she had been holding. “Is he here?”
“That’s good news,” Siena interjected, shooting her a warning look. “And you can thank me all you like, so long as you pay me, too.”
Jonathan Pryce adjusted his glasses. “Your payment was transferred a few minutes ago.”
The bounty hunter smiled. “It’s been a pleasure, then.”
Pity cleared her throat.
“I hear you,” said Siena. “One more thing, if you don’t mind. My assistant here was hoping to have a word with your son before we go on our way.”
They stared at her, Alanna Drakos with one dark eyebrow raised.
“Just for a few minutes.” Pity gave them a disarming smile, mimicking the one Finn used, the one that had always gotten her whatever she wanted. “Some of the folks who knew Ma—your son out west, they gave me messages to pass on to him. Good-byes they didn’t get to say, that sort of thing.”
Her heart thudded as they considered her. A look passed between them, but finally Alanna Drakos nodded.
“As long as you’re quick,” she said. “He’s still quite weak, you understand.”
