A night In Paris ( Countryhumans)

Reunion

Several weeks had passed and still no news of this mysterious bar, perhaps  it no longer existed. America sighed looking again at the little card before putting it in the inside pocket of his jacket, next to the two rusty bullets he had always kept on him since he had found them. The more he reflected on this past, the less sense he found in it. He did not know what to think of everything he had read in Confederate's private correspondence. America no longer knew how Confederate had appeared in this world.All these memories of that time were mixed in his head while he ordered an umpteenth glass of whisky from the bartender. America was in a seedy little bar in Texas. It was around 23:00 and most of the regulars of this bar were in the nearby alleys  . America felt that the alcohol was going to his head and after settling his slate, he stumbled out of the bar. Standing on the wall  to not collapse on the street, but despite all his attempts to reach his hotel on foot. The alcohol being in too much quantity in his body , it made him fall to the ground, just next to the gutter.

A man who had been watching him for a while, had finally decided to intervene. He beckoned two humans to lift America up and put him in the backseat of his car. Once the job was done, he paid them and drove away in his car.
The rays of the sun woke America up with difficulty, he put his hand against his forehead. His headache was already tiring him . America opened his eyes and looked where he was, he didn't recognize the apartment, his heart began to beat faster and faster. His stress increased as he looked at everything around him, he was in a small room, the tapestry was old and worn out, there was only a bed and a small bedside table. The soil was dusty.

Absolutely nothing allowed him to recognize where he was, he even doubted to be in an apartment . America turned to the window, long brown curtains hid the outside world. Pushing them, he looked through the glass whose glass had yellowed over time, he could see only a succession of old house. And given his luck, he could have been in a ghost town.

He sought in his memory what had happened the day before, he remembered that he had drunk a lot but what he had done after remained a real mystery.
Someone placed a glass on the small night table, the noise made America turn his head, which aimed directly at the glass of water. He realized how thirsty he was. The man  next to him sat in a chair and waited for America to finish drinking his glass of water.

When he was finished, America looked at the man who had picked him up on the street. The shock was such that America dropped its glass to the ground, rolling at the foot of this man who should no longer exist in this world.
The man smiled as he picked up the glass and put it back on the nightstand, he was satisfied with the completely devastated air that America had.

"How is this possible, Confederate? You should be dead." With a trembling voice declared America, as he looked in his pocket for the two rusty bullets.

"That's what you're looking for?" Asked Confederate as he takes  the two rusted bullets from inside his pocket and handed them to America who quickly took them.

"How did you get out of your grave? I thought someone had just picked up your body for some obscure reason. But why did you leave that box that you loved so much?"

"It is true that someone has taken me out of my grave, but I will not say it's name." Quietly declared Confederate looking at the disappointed face of America who had hoped he would give more information. But he couldn't, that was part of his contract with these people.

Confederate stood up and looked at America before telling him that it was better for him to rest now and that he would answer these questions once he had sobered up.