Facing Away (Broken Streetfighter)

Chapter Forty Five

Imma try something new, let me know how y'all like it ;)

External Narrator

Riley knows it’s a dangerous game to be sneaking around with gangs and the illegal activities that this country hides, but it’s her job, and she refuses to let any innocent lives be lost. No more innocent lives should be wasted because of a loss of humanity in this world. It’s time for a change.

A snitch. A liar. A tattletale. She’s breaking omerta. Every single person who’s been in Riley’s position - including her mother - is a breaker of the oldest, most honored code amongst these activities. That’s the reason her mother died, she got close, got the information, and then reported it back to her bosses.

By getting close to the sticky web of history that follows her friend, Riley is getting the information only to turn and backstab them all in the back. She will betray Amy, Emily, Shawn; everyone she has left who she loves will hate her. Alas, it’s her job.

Riley will not break code.

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Wendy makes eye contact with Alexander and smiles a sickly sweet smile that seeps out danger in the way her lips curl at the end and reveal flashes of her white teeth. “My name is Wendy, nice to meet you.”

She knew they wouldn’t recognize her - despite the redness of her hair, Wendy overall is a forgettable figure and person. That’s why she’s the best person for the job, the best person to look over and protect her future leader. 

“How’s she looking Doc?” She tries to bring some light to the room at Alexander’s refusal to answer.

Macy Black turns around and takes a glance around the room before turning back to  Amy. “It looks like the poison is almost out, a few days or so more. However, if Amy would like, there would be a cure.”

At her words Amy lets out a groan at pain. Wendy watches from her seat against the dresser as Macy turns and touches Amy’s forehead and checks her pulse. “What’s the cure?” She questions.

The room goes quiet - more than it already was, if possible. “She must drink the pee of a perfectly healthy relative.” Macy murmurs.

Amy groans from her bed, a murmured ‘ew’ and ‘no’ being heard from her as she glances at the ceiling, not even taking in the entirety of people in the room.

“What would be required of her and I during the next few days?” Wendy asks, visibly disgusted at what the cure is.

“Well,” Macy begins. “We would need to check on her frequently, in shifts almost, and we would need to get her to drink lots of water and to eat less solids, just for the next few days so that her body has more to extract each time she would go to the bathroom or, as she’s doing now, each time she sweats it out. Eventually, when her temperature goes back to normal she’ll be able to go back to solid foods, but for right now, only fluids are what I recommend.”

Wendy ponders over this new information before nodding her head in agreement. “I’ll work on getting people on the shifts. When will I be able to leave? When can she get visitors?”

She watches as Macy walks over to her and crouches down, the motherly eyes of Macy Black bore into her and Wendy almost flinches away from the kindness they seep. She does however flinch when Macy brings the back of her hand gently onto her forehead to check her temperature. “How long have you been with her?”

Her shoulders move up and drop down. “For at least three days now. She began to look like a corpse two days ago - the day after Alexander got jumped.”