“ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS.” The truck driver screams, rage fueled spittle shotgunning from his mouth, splattering across Liv’s crestfallen face. “THAT’S HOW MUCH YOU LOST IN CARGO. DO YOU REALIZE HOW SEVERE THAT IS, OR CAN YOU NOT COUNT THAT HIGH?”

  The drivers were just a bit more than mad. They had passed mad, actually, into the realm of pure rage. Turns out, the thieves had stolen a whole box of expensive technology. The number attached to paying for it had made Donovan pale with its price, though Charlotte seemed nonplussed with the thievery in general. Liv had tried to explain that one of them just vanished, but they weren’t listening. In their own words, “Apologies and explanations won’t bring back the cargo”.

  On the brighter side, they weren’t empty handed. By the rapidly dissipating flame was Anthony tying bandages around the thief’s many wounds. She hadn't meant to injure them that much, even if they did try to kill her, but she was starting to wish she got one more kick off. She had been tied up for safety. The last thing anyone wanted was for her to escape.

  “I’m sure Hellfire Insurance will cover the cost.” Charlotte comforts, her hands raised between Liv and their unsatisfied charge. “And we don’t know if it’s completely gone yet. They couldn’t have gone far without a car.”

  The truck driver turns his ire toward Charlotte, rage filled breaths rocketing into his nose. With a growl, he turns, stomping back to his truck. “YOU BETTER GET MY DAMN CARGO!”

  Charlotte nods gravely, her hand landing on her heart as she bows. Liv looks at the gesture, mimicking it poorly.

  “We will do everything in our power to retrieve your cargo.” Charlotte says respectfully.

  After the truck driver enters his truck once more, Donovan walks over, a small handkerchief in his hand. He offers it to Liv, a gift she readily accepts.

  “There ya go.” He mutters, Liv already wiping her face, removing the spittle that caked on her features. “I know how angry truck drivers get when they get their stuff stolen. Nobody wants to be on the wrong end of that.”

  Liv grunts, handing the handkerchief back to Donovan, her face feeling a bit cleaner than before. She’s suddenly forced to turn as Charlotte wraps her hands around her shoulders, pushing the two face to face.

  “You told us they vanished, correct?” Charlotte questions, confirmed by a confused nod by Liv. She nods in kind, her eyes turning to the flame. The thief had long since awoken. When her struggling and cursing was proven futile, she simply gave up and allowed herself to be bandaged. She had olive skin, light black hair cut short on her head. She was given the remainder of Liv’s MRE, eating it with a gusto not seen by someone who eats three proper meals a day. Anthony continues to check her over, his medical abilities shown in full display. Though helped, she wouldn’t give them a lick of information pertaining to her, her compatriot, or where they were coming from.

  Charlotte sits next to her, a friendly yet imploring expression on her face. “Hello, ma’am. I am Charlotte Arcille of the house of Arcille.” Her hand crests her heart, an amiable smile spreading across her face. Her form was respectful, a perfectly controlled cordiality that would’ve found its home in any higher echelon. “I am aware of your circumstance, but I implore you to help us. I am sure you and I can work out an agreement that seems mutually beneficial. Now, you and your partner used a Synth weapon. Am I correct-?”

  Her words halt as a globule of saliva thwaps against her face. Her eye slowly twitches, feeling the wet trail it leaves in its path. The source of the globule sneers, backing up toward Anthony’s now sweating form.

  “Say what you want, pig.” The thief starts, a snarl on her lips. “But your kind aren’t welcome near me!”

  Charlotte takes a deep breath, wiping her face off with her armored arm. She looks down at it, her eyes twitching further. With a fluid motion, she draws Pierre, the blade screeching in the quiet night. She’s stopped by Donovan, curses abounding from Charlotte’s mouth as she’s dragged away, leaving Liv, Anthony, and the would-be thief around the flame.

  “You’re suicidal.” Anthony sighs, giving her a small pat on the back. “Injuries won’t kill you, though. You’re good.”

  The thief gives Anthony a glance, the small spark of thankfulness unmaskable. She nods, her tied body relaxing a touch. It retenses, however, as Liv sits next to them, their face contorting in a defensive terror. Anthony gives her a confused, worried glance. She just looks back with an equally confused look, her eyes turning to the puffed up thief.

  “Tell me where yer friend went.” She demands.

  “So you can try to kill them too?” The thief growls. “I’d rather die than lead a demon like you to my home.”

  Liv’s face scrunches with confusion, her eyebrows knitting up. The hell was she talking about? She says as much, the thief’s glare softening. Not because of anything sentimental or kind, but in a “is she dumb” look.

  “You tried to punch him in the face with those explosion gauntlets!” She cries, her eyes momentarily falling to the metal weapons attached to Liv’s hands.

  “That wouldn’t kill ‘em.” Liv dismisses.

  “Liv,” Anthony interjects, his face adopting the same expression as the thief. “That would’ve killed them.”

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  “...No?” Liv says, more unsure. She supposed she hadn’t tried to hit anyone with her explosions, but she had been just fine taking the brunt of her own explosions. They couldn’t be that lethal.

  The conversation continues in circles, Liv dead set in her stance that he would’ve survived, even as her foundations are bombarded by facts and logic. Donovan settles back soon enough, a few new bruises settling on his face.

  “Next time,” he starts, “Liv is dragging Charlotte away.”

  “That bad?” Anthony questions, earning a glare from Donovan as he points to his rapidly swelling eye. Anthony nods, conceding the point immediately.

  “Any luck?” Donovan questions as chunks of ice fall from the back of his Tonfa, pressing said ice to his new injury.

  “Nope.” Anthony responds. “Same info; though, we know she’s probably not affiliated with a larger organization and that she lives near or with the other thief.”

  The thief’s eyes bulge, her eyebrows shooting up in a storm of shock, horror, and anger. Anthony glances at her, immediately deducing the expression.

  “You said you’d rather ‘die than lead demons to your home’. That means you live wherever that other thief is taking the cargo. You also didn’t deny them being your friend, meaning you have some sort of relation to them.”

  The crestfallen expression that crosses the thief’s face sums up their feelings on the deduction. Anthony nods his head, turning back to Donovan. “But we can’t really get any more info than that, though.”

  “Great,” Donovan groans, his hand gesturing to the expanse of the mountains. “So they could be anywhere in this… In this range?” His voice peters off, his eyebrows furrowing as he continues to gesture out. Liv looks to him, though his eyes are locked on the thief before him. He continues to fiddle with his hand until he randomly stops.

  “It’s over there.” He says, pointing the direction his hand stopped. The look of horror growing on the thief’s face further speaks to the statements levied against her, her mouth working to find words.

  “W-WHAT? T-THAT’S CRAZY!” The thief says, her shrill voice a nervous mock. “YOU’RE JUST STUPID! IT’S ACTUALLY THAT WAY!” Her head nudges up the road, the street barely illuminated by the shining stars above.

  “Nah,” Donovan says. “It’s that way.”

  The resulting argument lasts minutes, Donovan dead set in the notion it was that way. Though Liv wasn’t classically trained in the art of reading people, even she could see the panic on the thief's face, her olive skin reddening with panic and desperation. Eventually, she gives up, her shrill shrieks petering to nothing.

  It’s Anthony’s turn to look at Donovan with a question glance, waiting for him to speak. Donovan shrugs, gesturing to the defeated woman.

  “She made a face whenever I pointed to it. It wasn't hard to deduce.”

  Anthony nods, looking toward the mountains in the distance. The smallest of the range, though still tall by most metrics. He runs a hand through his long hair, slapping his knees as he stands.

  “Welp, we got a long walk then.” He mutters. “Let's go.”

  The other two follow, each preparing their weapon in their own way. Liv adjusts Bruno on her hands, stretching her fingers out over and over. The thief couldn’t have gotten far… Even if they did just vanish. She would just have to find them and pay them back for the stunt they pulled-.

  “Wait.” Says the thief, her voice soft and low. All heads turn to their defeated form. They don’t squander the chance, their head never raising from the floor. “You can’t… You can’t go.”

  “Can’t implies it’s impossible.” Anthony says. “And I don’t think it would be if you managed it.”

  “Fuck-.” The thief starts, though they bite their tongue just in time. They take a deep breath, continuing with the same imploring tone as before. “Please… I’m already in a lot of trouble, and you guys going there’s only gonna get me in more trouble. I-I just need my friend treated, then I’ll never steal again.”

  They’re pleading, earnest in their begging. It shocked Liv how the fight left them so quick, leaving them a husk of energy. A thought springs to her mind, brewing to a full blown idea.

  “Yer friend is ill?” Liv questions, her hands finding their way to her hips.

  “Y-Yeah.” The thief starts, hope blooming in their chest.

  Liv glances at Anthony, his eyes already locked on hers. The look of “please don't" in his gaze is palpable, but Liv considered his temporary annoyance a worthy sacrifice. Jutting her thumb back, she smiles, her voice growing a bit louder.

  “Why didn’t ya say so? My friend here can heal people up, so I reckon we can do somethin’ ‘bout that!”

  The hopeful expression that blooms across their face glows in the dim light of the night, all of it directed at the very large, very annoyed man now openly glaring at Liv. She shrugs, a smile spreading across her face.

  “You can do that…?” The thief questions.

  “...Yeah, something like that.” Anthony says slowly, pushing the words through his teeth. “If you lead us there, I’m sure I can do something.”

  The thief bites their lip, lost in thought for a moment. Liv could see the mental debate playing across their features, stuck between the consequences of helping them and the reward of having their friend cured. In the end, they give a quick nod, a shaky breath escaping their mouth.

  “Ok…” They start. “Ok, I’ll help you.”

  “Hell yeah!” Liv woots, clapping her gauntlets together, a orange glow cascading from their depths. “Aight, lemme untie you-.”

  “No.” Anthony interjects, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. “She can lead us when she’s tied. No use risking it.” He turns his head to Donovan, barking at him to get Charlotte. He quickly fetches the armored woman, her guise of calm back by the time she rejoins the group.

  “Before we go,” Charlotte starts. “Someone should inform our charge of our plan.”

  “I’ll do it.” Liv volunteers, already crossing the distance to the truck's door. She knocks, the door swinging open to reveal the driver, a shotgun nestled on his lap. Upon learning of their plan, he grunts, loading a shell into the chamber. Liv took that as him being prepared, her back turning as the door closed behind her. With that, the four walk toward the mountains, the thief leading the charge.