Fanfare

A Way Out

"Kieran doesn't respond well to sarcasm," Pierce informs her, as they make their way down the corridor.

"For someone so sarcastic, you'd think he would," Trenna mumbles. She pulls on her jacket and zips it up, thinks for a moment, then unzips it.

Pierce shakes his head. "What'd you do to end up on the ceiling?"

"What did you say you needed me for?" Trenna asks, changing the subject.

Pierce looks at her sidelong, his lips still curved in that slightly amused way that is hardly visible except for the fact that she's seen him angry, and she's seen him laugh, and she can tell the difference. His slight facial expressions are not the hard part of him to read.

"We're looking for a way out. We have been, since the beginning." He pauses, his fingers playing along the strap of his gun.

"And?" Trenna prods, when he doesn't go on.

"And," says Pierce, looking at her now. "We think we found a way out."

Trenna cannot think, cannot speak, cannot breathe. Her feet stop moving. She stands perfectly still on the path, unable to go on, unsure of what keeps her upright.

A way out. A place other than this. She'd thought this was all. Despite her fantasies, despite her dreams and the things she thought she might have seen through the flames, she never, ever considered that they could be real. That there could be a world outside of the flames. That there was anything other than this. 

Pierce sighs and takes her hand, pulling her along with him. She is only dimly aware of the pressure of his fingers, the stumbling, wooden steps of her feet. Her mind cannot process what she has heard. The hope in that single sentence, those three words; a way out.