Search the Community

12.6 Million to Freedom…. Twelve point six million, it was an almost unfathomably large number that equaled roughly 5 years….. It was the number constantly on Grace’s mind as she surveyed the clean but worn storefront. Part pawn broker, part convenience store… It was a lot of money, that stood between her and freedom. Still it could be a lot worse…. It had been twenty million that 17-year-old Grace had been chipping away at when she had forged the paperwork and dropped every cent, she had left from her folks to take over the foreclosed commercial space…. At 21 everyday was a fight to live, to avoid becoming well… Like the girl who had just sprinted into Grace’s shop. Once smart suit pants coated in piss and shit; tears smudging her make up. She locked eyes with Grace through the ballistic glass enclosure around the checkout counter. “Please!! Oh God you have to help me!! I was here on a business visa. That guy put something in my drink and is trying to kidnap me!! And everybody was trying to help him!!” Graces only response was to buzz open the reinforced metal door leading to the back which the woman wasted no time sprinting through. Thirty seconds later a 10’ tall Amazon man comes thundering through automatic doors. “Where is she!!?” Grace simply stares with a mask of controlled indifference. “You gonna buy something mister?” “I know she’s here you little bitch, that girl is mine…” Grace light’s up a Marty’s cherry vanilla cigar… “Buy something or piss off….” The hulking giant walks up to the glass and slams his fist down on it with a dull thud causing it to shake. “Little girls do not talk back you will give her to me now… In fact I think the breeder I’m selling to will be interested in you as well….” Grace rolls her eyes and punches a button under the desk and takes another drag on her cigar. A hatch in the ceiling pops open and a 15mm HMG on a servo mount swings down. Targeting laser pointed right at shitlord’s crown jewels….. After shitlord’s panicked retreat, Grace decides she’s going to have to check in on the girl, help her get cleaned up, make a call to Antonio and The Liberator’s. Hopefully they’ll be able to get her home or at least to Galt or the Islands with the right papers to keep her free and safe…. That night was rough. Seeing the girl like that brought back bad memories….. She had passed out after taking a nap on Grace’s couch in the living room of her third story flat. The second was extra inventory/a buffer zone. It was the usual set of nightmares fire, smoke, gunshots, and screaming. A friend of her father’s carrying her to safety as their home burned and smoke filled the tunnels. Her mother was an exo-pilot one of the best in their ad-hoc militia, her father was a firefighter and a medic. Both had died on the front while other’s tried to get the small children, wounded, and disabled out……. The door creaked open allowing a small sliver of light to slip in. She reflexively dove for the side arm strapped to edge bed and got about half way there before realizing it was only the girl. Mikala that was her name. She was standing there in one of Grace’s old sweat shirts. She was almost inbetweener height at 5’9”, compared to Grace’s 4’3”. Combined with her sharp facial features, short cut blond pixie, and nose stud…. All Grace could do was stare. “I heard you screaming, and I came to check and see….” “I’m okay just…” “Shit I was having the same problem after today.” Grace could only swallow as Mikala peeled off the borrowed sweat shirt. Revealing a toned figure, firm breasts, and a neat thatch of hair. From there it was all a tangle of sweaty limbs, grasping hands, and muffled gasps/squeals. Both needed something else to think about, to not be alone, and after about thirty minutes of desperately reaching out; both Grace and Mikala were able to get some sleep.