Devil for a Lost Cause

Twenty-Nine

PART TWO: THOSE WHO FIGHT BACK

Ingrid can't bring her crossbow on the trip to district 5, as Roland informed us early on that when crossing the border, they will search for weapons. So she had to get creative. She's got two metal hair sticks with sharp ends stuffed into the sides of her bun, pepper spray in her bag, and a dagger in her luggage. Roland said security would see it on their x-ray scanner but assume it was a kitchen knife. She also wears an ankle-high skirt with a short slit up the side for easier access to the blade sheath strapped around her lower thigh.

"I hate skirts," she mutters. "They're loose and always flow in weird places. Unless they're tight, in which case, they suffocate you."

"That's the only way we could think of to hide your dagger," I point out, tossing some clothes into a small suitcase. Roland told us that in the North it's not customary for people to walk around openly with weapons like it is in the South, which I thought was odd. How is someone expected to protect themselves?

"If they don't check under my skirt, that is."

"Now, why would they lift a lady's skirt? That's just rude."

"You never know." She turns to me. "Where's all your weapons, anyway? I don't see you wearing a thigh sheath."

I release a long, sad sigh. "Unfortunately, I don't think it would look as physically appealing on me, especially when paired with a skirt. Could you imagine the stares, darling?"

There's a spark of amusement in her expression. Then it's gone, and I'm left disappointed.

When we finish packing, Roland accompanies us to the front door. Steven's at work, so we won't see him again until tomorrow night.

"Your flight leaves in two hours," Roland says, "and you still need to meet check-in. They need verification on the slips before you board the plane."

"Eager to get rid of us?" I ask with a grin.

"Eager to get Leavens behind bars," he corrects, handing me a burner phone. "And be careful," he warns, looking between Ingrid and I. "You guys are Southerners, and although there are good people in the North, there are also bad people who will do everything they can to get under your skin."

"Ah, the warm-hearted spirit of the North." I glance at Ingrid. "You don't get that kind of attention every day, am I right?"

"This is serious," Roland says, clearly unamused. "And if you're caught inside the control room by security guards, they will fine you and probably put you in jail."

Internally, I grumble, like they don't get all of our money to begin with.

"Thanks for the confidence boost," Ingrid says, overly cheerful.

He thrusts his hands up. "I can't get you two to be serious for one second!" He forces his glasses up the bridge of his nose and pushes us towards the door. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was nervous for us. "Now move along, little children, you have a plane to catch."

"How does one catch a plane?" I ask. "That seems like a very big baseball mitt, if you ask me."

"Well, no one did, Prince Charming. Now, off you go." He pushes us out of the door and slams it shut behind us.

* * *

"Next in line, please."

We approach the counter to hand in our airplane tickets, and I hold mine out to the lady behind it.

She looks at me funny. "Sir," she addresses me, "they take those at the door. I'm only here to get your names for your Approval Slips. You are native Southerners, correct?" she asks, examining us.