♡ ✖ ☢ ✖ ♡→ ░ ▐
The other girl at least has the courtesy to be polite and not want
to step on any toes, and that means Crash likes her already.
“Honey, please. We were all sheltered in the city at one point in our
lives. Even the great Party Poison was a city rat at one point, I’d betcha.
We all start somewhere, and we all learn, and if you find someone who’s
willin’ to help ya out, you should take advantage of that.”
To make her point, Crash rests one hand on her bad knee. “Look. You’re
already doing better than I was my first couple days. I fell down and busted
my knee up and it hasn’t been the same since–you’re still walkin’, right?
You’ll do fine. Look, if you want, I’ll even teach you to shoot. The best shot
in my family.”
She sets the rag down on the cot next to her. “Looks about as good as it can
for now. Stay the night here and I’ll check ‘em again in the morning, alright?”
She wanted to protest to her remarks on being sheltered. Sure, the
city always had a way of dazzling people into blissful ignorance,
but not in the way she had been forcefully kept from the fresh air.
What she had been through was an all new level of being sheltered.
But that could be saved for later. After all, from what she noticed on
those out here being paranoid of being discovered, it was not a good
way to make friends by admitting the BLI had decided to use her as
their own personal lab rat.
“I guess I am doing alright for myself. Not many city people can
come out here in the desert and make it this far.” She said, sitting
back in the folding chair, surveying Crash once more.
Teaching her to shoot? Could she even do that? Was Chace’s
arm even healed enough, or had enough good muscle to even
preform such a task? She knew she had to learn how to shoot.
It was a vital skill out in the dunes. Everyone had to be useful,
that much she understood about the vigilante lifestyle.
“Shooting, huh? Like pointing them at cans, the stuff people
did in those old movies?
I think I could do that.”
The blonde admitted, flexing her fingers on her left hand. It
felt good to have the wound cleaned out, fresh bandages and all.
A night’s sleep on something other than her jacket and backpack
started to sound like heaven.
“I’ll repay you for this someday. I don’t have much,
but I will make sure it happens.”
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