seat to me before I lift it up and out of the car.
There are people standing around, many of them staring at us. I try not to meet their eyes, scared of what I'll see. But then I hear the younger man swear out loud. He stands by the back of the car, still with his shirt in his hand.
“Not Brandon." He turns his gaze on the older man behind me, his narrowed eyes reminding me of a knife.
The older man feels close to me. I don't look back at him, but I can almost feel him standing close behind me. "You know he's the best choice."
The younger man clenches his teeth together like he's biting on his tongue. It's a look that makes my stomach go crazy, and I sway ever so slightly, almost bumping into the older one behind me.
The people stand around, some sitting on old picnic tables and others sitting on old chairs around unlit fire pits. They are nothing like the people back home. There's a weary look to everyone here. Their clothes are faded and distressed, but not without care. Most of the women are covered up enough, but their tattoos still show across their backs. Large dark skulls stare from the backs of those who don't turn around. I notice that some tattoos are larger than others. Designs float around the skulls, twining like tongues of fire.
A couple of the people move and I catch a few smiles on some faces as people greet the man who walks directly toward us. His blue eyes scan the small group of us waiting by the car and when he sees the younger man leaning against the car with his arms crossed over his chest he grins. But once he's up close and his eyes fall on me, his smile warms. "Hey. You must be Paula." He's sounds very sure on it, and yet still asking me more out of politeness than anything else.
It's hard enough to face so much direct attention, so I'm glad he doesn't reach his hand out to me. I just nod while holding onto my duffel bag.
The older man clears his throat. "Brandon's going to take you while we get to the bottom of this." His last few words jumble together, tumbling over each other as they fight to escape. He doesn't shove me towards Brandon, but he might as well. I'm trapped with nowhere else to go.
Brandon reaches a hand out, lifting it from his side and pointing at my duffel bag. "I'll take it for you. We've gotta walk upstairs. You're probably tired."
My entire body buzzes. The first instinct is the one that pushes my words out. "No, I've got it."
I can see his brows raise, his hand slowly reaches for my bag. "Trust me," he says as his small smile crinkles his eyes. I let go of the bag as he slings it over his shoulder. Then he looks at the other two. "I guess you two already have things to do."
The older man sighs again. "I'll fill you in later."
The younger man pushes off the back of the car and walks past Brandon. He gives him a light shove. "Just don't get attached." Then he walks off into the crowd.
Brandon seems to mostly ignore him, though tension creeps into his brow for a moment before he turns back to me with a sparkle in his eyes and the hint of a smile on his lips. "Well, we should go. You must be hungry."
I nod. Gravel and dried grass crunch under my feet as I step over to him and we start walking through the crowd and away from the older man. I try not to stare, but I do catch a couple of eyes and quickly turn away. Brandon holds his head up, meeting the glares of the others. They seem to turn away when he looks directly at them.
I hear the engine of the old car start before I see it. We're on the first balcony when he backs up and pulls away. Even though I don't even know his name, I can't help feeling like I've lost my last link to the Neutral Territory. My heart tugs at my chest like it's trying to follow along, but we have nowhere to go. I certainly can't go back so I continue walking up the stairs behind Brandon.
Three
We walk up three flights of shaky steps. There isn't enough room for us to walk side by side, so