Chapter Two
Monday, January Second, 1 a.m.

The church bell rang out once, a lonely peal in the dark of the night. Clara glanced up at the sky and shivered, then tried to pull the newspapers more tightly around her body and huddle further into her sweatshirt. She was completely frozen, so cold her ass was numb for fuck's sake, but she was safe.

For now.

She thought she might've blown it completely by going to that coffee shop. Maybe it was kind of stupid to go into the dome in the first place, even though she felt safer there, but she should've stuck to vending machines in one of the malls. That guy who gave her a discount... Maybe he was just trying to be nice, maybe he was one of them, she couldn't tell. She was way too paranoid to tell anymore. She kind of freaked out when she noticed he wasn't up front, way after she had cried a little in front of everyone. God, that was embarrassing, the look the short guy had given her... Man, she should have known. She should have known about that other guy, at least. And she shouldn't have freaked out when she saw him talking to the gray man...

He might have been a regular person, but he moved funny like the gray men did, his skin didn't look right, and the way that short guy had leaned over and muttered to him... There was something wrong, wrong, but she shouldn't have freaked out. That was stupid, because she lost one of the pages to the letter, and if that short guy had it...

She shook her head. No, no, she couldn't give up all hope. It's not like he could have gotten too much from it anyway. It would be okay. She had written more on the new sheet anyway, and sent everything, and if she was lucky they would get it soon.

If the gray men hadn't gotten them first. Oh, God. Clara started to shiver again. All of the little bodies in the sanctuary, all of the little ones had their... their throats just opened up, blood all over everything... There was no sign of the others, none at all, and she and Pearl had just stared at each other before they turned and ran. They held each other and cried in an alley kilometers away, and then they separated, and...

She squeezed her eyes shut. No, no, enough of that, she thought, if you think about it too much they'll be able to feel you. You can't let them feel you. You can't let the gray men find you.

Silent night, silent mind. The bell in the nearby church rung out the hours one by one until morning finally came, a gradual lightening around her as the dome diffused the rays of the rising sun, and she roused herself from her hiding place between a dumpster and a pile of boxes. The light brought her back to her senses - not that she had been asleep, oh no, she probably would never sleep again, not after what had happened - and there it was, the pain was as fresh as ever. Damn it.

Slow and stiff she stood up, wondering why she couldn't feel her feet. Oh, yes, too cold, so cold she didn't really feel cold anymore, because that was all she did feel. Warmth wasn't even a distant memory after the last few nights. She walked down the alleyway, looking this way and that, making sure there was no one around, none of the gray men. There couldn't be, it was morning, but then she couldn't ever be too sure, because... because to have done what they did at the sanctuary they would have had to have been there in the daylight, before she and Pearl had come back.

No, no time for that now, no more crying in public.

First, to get away from the church. She had been there all night, and if anyone came back... but no, she couldn't think like that, no. But she couldn't run, either, just walk so slow, so obvious and vulnerable out there on the street. But the sunlight was something happy even though she couldn't feel it, and even though something happy reminded her that everything was falling down around her, it was something to keep going for, right?

Yes, it was. Something to keep her walking to the graveyard, where they were supposed to meet her, if they got the letter, if they were still alive.

It was a long way away, just into Old Town, and she had to walk so slowly it was noon by the time she was there. The sun had cleared the dome now, and she remembered warmth enough to shiver violently. People probably thought she was sick because they crossed the street to avoid her, and she couldn't blame them because they couldn't afford to get sick, but still she wished that... someone would care.

But you don't want to get wrapped up in someone else's misery in this city, no sir, so you walked alone. And then you stood alone in the graveyard, your heart falling lower minute by minute, waiting.

"They aren't coming," she said to herself a long time later.

The despair was still there - in fact, it was worse - but the shock was fading from her mind. It was like her brain was thawing; Clara could think much more clearly now that the shock was receding, even if it was all replaced with despair. She could think clearly enough to know that she was completely fucked.

The gray men had gotten to the sanctuary, they had probably gotten to Pearl after she and Clara had separated, they had probably gotten to the others as well. She didn't know what they wanted with her group ("Yes you do," said a voice in her head, "they want to eat you, all of you, devour your flesh and your life"), and she thought that they could hide still, maybe do something even if some of them survived, but it was clear to her that she was the only one left.

And here she was, standing like a big fat target in a graveyard. Gray men liked graveyards, and she had a feeling they came from them, too. Time to leave.

She left as fast as her feet would take her (still cold, but not so numb now), turning streets at what she thought was random, until she ended up on the street leading up to one of the Enclave gates.

Clara hesitated. It was easy enough to get into the Enclave during the day, but it was pushing on towards evening for all the time was late afternoon. This looked like the Julian gate, a pedestrian gate, and the gate guards wouldn't let people like her in after dark. But, wait, she still had a dollar, she could buy a subway ticket at Farthing Station if they wouldn't let her in through the pedestrian gate and get in that way.

Never mind what she would do in the Enclave, anyhow. Go back to that cafe and hope that black guy was there to give her cheap coffee again? Hah, yeah right. And it wasn't like the Enclave was safe, not after seeing the gray man there yesterday...

But it was a hell of a lot better than standing here doing nothing, wasn't it? It was something to do, it was better than her other option of walking all of the way to the Barrens and standing there and praying it would be painless when something tried to kill her.

She tried to look casual when she walked up to the gates, but three days spent in the winter cold without much but a shroud of despair to keep her warm ruined the look completely. One of the guards hopped down out of the guard post and blocked her way with his fat ass and his big automatic gun. "What do you need to do in the Enclave this time of day, miss?"

Fucking rentacops, she thought without much emotion. She tried to think of an excuse when the face of that black guy popped up in her head, and a fringe of conversation between him and the other guy at the counter. "I'm here to see a guy named Marcus, he works at Black Cat Coffee House. He said he'd take me out for drinks if I showed up before closing time tonight."

It was a total stab in the dark, but the guard grinned. "Damn, good old Marcus, hehheh. Tell him Larry from Julian Gate says hi, wouldya, girlie?"

"Sure thing," she said as she walked through the now-unblocked entrance. Fatass, she added to herself afterwards.

Clara headed towards where she thought Black Cat was, but she felt rather sick to her stomach after talking to the guard. Good old Marcus? The fuck was that supposed to mean? Didn't he wonder a little why 'good old Marcus' would offer drinks to someone her age? Or... shit. She stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, causing a wealthy woman to curse shrilly when she nearly collided with Clara. Maybe... maybe Marcus and his nasty coworker were working together with the gray men. Maybe she was playing right into his trap, he was only nice to her because-

She clutched at her head. Stop it! she told herself. Quit, quit, quit seeing ghosts in every corner, the more you freak out the more likely you are to get caught! If he knew who you were when you walked through that door you would have been dead last night!

A few deep breaths later and she was walking down the street again, ignoring the outright stares of passers-by. She was still alive, so... she was probably misinterpreting things. She had to be. No idea what she was going to do next, so... how about a coffee? Yeah, she still had that dollar, she could see if that black guy was there. Maybe he would buy her a drink, and if he turned out to be a fuckhead, she could throw it into his face. Maybe go out in a blaze of glory in a barfight, hahaha. Yeah.

Too bad she couldn't find the place. Clara stared with bewilderment at the unfamiliar stores. She had let her mind wander a little too far, it seemed, and now she was just a little lost. Not good, but it never got really dark under the dome, she could just turn and walk towards it until she came to the rail tracks, then walk along them to the main street. Yeah, that was a pretty good plan, and it wasn't even slightly paranoid.

She was feeling really pleased with herself right up until the point a pair of arms reached out from an alleyway and wrapped themselves around her, one around her waist and another over her mouth, and all she could think was that fuck, fuck, fuck, she had been right about that black guy.