We are immediately recognized upstairs.

Of course, the few guys upstairs that weren’t plastered saw you, and of course, Scarlet, dressed in an oversized blouse and shorts that weren’t hers. When they addressed you, Scarlet pointed and asked who they were so loudly you wondered if the boss upstairs heard her yelling.

You didn’t waste a second presenting your pistol out from its holster. You shot a few times and managed to hit both of the guards, killing one with a late headshot. The other, though struck with a bullet, was more than capable of returning fire after finding some cover.

The gunfight stirred the others out of their drunken stupor to rally to their firearms. Now, you weren’t just hopelessly outnumbered but also outgunned. Not to mention, you had the handicap of having Scarlet so high she thought this was a house party she wasn’t aware of.

In only a few seconds, you ran room-to-room, searching for an exit, dragging Scarlet behind you. Your running brought you to an office room, and you dove in and started to barricade it. Luckily, there was a window nearby that faced that empty street. Everyone that was chasing you had followed you inside.

Scarlet, however, was the only handicap you had on yourself. When you climbed out the window, you thought she was going to cut herself wide open somewhere and that you would have to be in charge of stitching her back together. She did not cut herself on the exit, though. And the only troubling thing you had on your plate was the fact that you were leaving Arabella behind with a shaken wasp hive.

You and Scarlet broke into a hard sprint down the street, and the sounds of the raider guards slowly faded into the cooler night air. You’d shoot a glance every few seconds and ensure you weren’t running solo. Scarlet had sobered up a considerable amount after you escaped, but a nagging warning in your mind told you she might revert into her bliss and forget why you were running.

By the time you were on the outskirts of the walls, you were dripping with sweat, and your chest was throbbing with exertion. Scarlet was also painting, but she offered no words. Neither comment nor questions left her mouth, just raspy breathing and dry swallowing.

“How are you holding up?” You say.

“Fine,” you hear her reply. “Haven’t run like that in forever.”

“Yeah,” you look down the street, hardly hearing anything now. You glance at Scarlet’s feet and then apologize. “You didn’t step on any of that glass, did you? Or anything in the street?”

“Too wired to feel anything besides– my need my air,” Scarlet swallows and then sighs. “It’s dawning on me now. Thanks, Warren.”

“Consider us even,” you walk over and clap her shoulder. “Those fuckers would have probably cut my head off if they found my name.”

She sniffed, wiping her nose. Perhaps residue from her spill of emotions from earlier. Or maybe just something in the air. Scarlet looked up at you and shook her head. “Don’t mention it. I only didn’t start with my own because I couldn’t find it. Speaking of which, everything you’ve done here isn’t worth shit now. No proof of completed contracts.”

“Doubt it’ll taint my rep too much. Listen, I should get you back to my place where you hang low for a little bit. I have to find out what position Arabella is in. She’s still back there with that bandit boss.”

“She’s back there? Not good,” Scarlet continues to pant. “They’ll kill her. Or worse.”

“That’s what I’m trying to avoid,” you rub the back of your head. “I need to get you to safety first.”

Scarlet straightens. “Let me go back. I can help.”

“No, if something happens to her after that shitstorm, then it was all nothing but a waste of time. I can handle myself.”

The look on her face tells you she wants to argue, but she’s in no shape to.