Centre of the Storm

Chapter Thirteen: The City

A/N:I decided to put a funny ending for the last chapter, now that all the dark stuff is over (for now) we can have some humour

Beatrix thumbed through the wallet casually, as I started to see the city in the distance. "Find anything interesting in that?" I asked.

She pulled out a photo. "Damn, his kid's ugly." She tossed it over her shoulder. "Won't be needing that. There's a credit card, but being arrested for credit card fraud would put a damper in our plans."

"Yeah," I responded. "Get rid of it."

She tossed it away as well. "There's a debit. We can use that until it runs out or he shuts it off. We can throw it away when it gets declined. Other then that, we've got fifty dollars and some gum wrappers. Not the jackpot I was hoping for, but I guess the extra money helps a bit." She pocketed the bills, and dumped the trash into a ditch.

"Should we keep the wallet?" I asked. "It looks expensive, maybe we can sell it or something."

"Too bad I couldn't get us an actual phone, then we could've sold all our useless stuff. People will buy anything on the internet," Beatrix said.

At this point, we were at the outskirts of the city. I had never been in one before, and I was awed at what I saw.

There were bright lights all around us, and people were everywhere. There were tall buildings, and stores selling everything you could imagine. Beatrix grabbed my hand, and we ran forward, laughing and talking. "Come on, let's find a supermarket," she said.

To our luck, there was one right in front of us. We went inside, grabbing a shopping cart, playfully fighting over who got to push it. I won. "Okay, how much money do we have?" I asked.

"Three hundred and forty dollars plus the debit," she told me. "I'm guessing we need about two hundred for a place to stay."

"What are we looking for? An apartment?"

"I was thinking a motel. We can't afford to actually rent a place. But for two hundred dollars, we should be able to stay there for about two nights. We can use that time trying to get jobs, and I can sell the weed. That should buy us more time, literally."

I pulled a box of cheap cereal off a shelf, figuring it would last us a few days. Anything from the produce or meat section would be much too expensive, and anything on sale would definitely be rotten.

"Won't we need milk for the cereal?" Beatrix asked.

"Nah, I prefer it raw," I responded, opening one of the freezers.

"Psychopath," Beatrix mumbled.

I ignored her. "Should we get frozen pizza?" I asked.

"How much is it?"

I turned it over. "Four bucks," I said in surprise. That was cheaper than I had expected. Probably because it was incredibly unhealthy, but we couldn't afford anything else. We got five of those. After that we picked up some pasta, bread, tea, and a few smaller items we thought we might need, like painkillers, elastics, some cheap plastic cutlery, and hygiene products. Beatrix shoved small things down her shirt and into her pockets after ripping the tags off, and I acted like I didn't notice.