Night Lights and Dark Places

Chapter Four - Death

James wasn't sure how old he was, but upon waking the following evening, he knew without a doubt that he'd never eaten so well or slept so soundly in his life.

After leaving her apartment, he spent an absurd amount of time hunting a single cat, which he followed for several blocks. Cats were hard to catch, he'd soon learn, but they were more abundant than dogs and more satisfying than rodents, and this particular cat had evaded him two nights in a row now. It inadvertently led him to a well-lit alley where even more cats were milling about a large metal structure. At first he'd been excited about there being so many cats in one place, and then he realized why they were there: the absurd amount of raw meat the structure contained. There was an entire half of what looked to be a pig, and he and the cats cleaned the carcass together in under an hour. The original cat had been pardoned. They were now allies.

The lingering summer warmth put him to sleep almost immediately once he returned to the alley, and he woke long after sunrise the next day feeling sluggish. Sitting behind the bus shelter, he tried desperately to stop yawning as he listened to an elderly man recount his experience as a dentist during the Korean War to a very unenthusiastic young woman. James probably would've found the stories quite fascinating if the man telling them was the least bit coherent.

The next bus to arrive expelled its human contents and swallowed up the waiting batch. Another yawn began, only to turn into a weird, strangled yelp when a sudden, soft touch jolted him violently from his fugue.

And there she was, grinning up at him and rocking on her heels. She looked more alert today, fresh-faced, her red hair brushed neatly and eyes glistening. Ironically, despite the warm weather, this was the most conservatively he'd seen her dress; clingy denim jeans cut low and a short yellow t-shirt over long sleeves, leaving only a few inches worth of skin bare. What was the purpose of that, the arbitrary skin exposure? He wasn't sure if he should ask.

"Hey, boss." She said with a sheepish expression, twirling a lock of hair around her index finger. There was something slightly different about her scent today, an undertone of an odor with which he was intimately familiar; the cloying, sour smell of decay. It was faint, but it was there, and it made him hungry. He inhaled sharply and held his breath. "Didn't think you'd actually show up."

"Do I really seem so unreliable?" The implication offended him, but she shook her head, frantically waved away the suggestion.

"No, no, I'm just, I dunno, a pessimist?" Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jeans, she shrugged, and then began walking. There was no possible way he could match her pace, nor would she be able to match his, so he hung back behind her, taking slow, awkward steps. "I just tried not to get my hopes up, especially since last night was a total disaster."

"I thought it went quite well."

She laughed, looked up at him over her shoulder, grinned. "That's comforting, I guess. With standards that low, you'll probably love livin' here." Gesturing vaguely outward with her hand, she turned her head forward and chuckled softly. "Day three, right? How'd it go? You gettin' on okay?"

James snorted, rolled his eyes. "My day was spectacularly uneventful, but yes, I am quite enjoying my time here. I've got responsibilities, now, and more people to talk to. My living situation is slightly less comfortable, I'm finding that I'm able to eat far better here than I ever was at home. There's so much variety, and in such abundance as well."

Tolly took a few tiny steps backwards to walk beside him. He slouched slightly, if only to close the distance even a little bit, because every time she looked up at him, his neck ached in sympathy. When he glanced down at her, her expression was playful, bordering skeptical, one eyebrow raised.