by Jester Joker
After we finished the whole registration process, we found this little deli to grab something to eat. Walking back home, I couldn't help but notice how spacious the city really is, nothing like any other city I've ever visited.
I let Will talk. The... unnerving experience of the session was enough talking for me today. He's telling me some random stories about his dad. Will really seems to hate his old man. Sounds like a luxury to me.
For about half a block I stop listening because something on the other side of the street grabs my attention. Part of our training was teaching us how to notice everything in our surroundings, so I've been looking all over the place like a paranoid schizophrenic, but I think now I've finally caught something suspicious.
Eventually I halt Will for a moment and point to what I'm seeing. "That look odd to you?" I ask.
He follows where I'm looking. He gasps. "My God, you're right!" he shouts in exaggerated fashion. "An attractive young lady standing by her lonesome, and I don't have her number!"
I reach out my hand to stop him before he runs over there. "Come on, Will, look at the whole picture. She's leaning against a car, no money in the meter, and look at the store she's in front of."
Will glances up and reads the sign. "Kincaid's Jewelers. So what? I've never seen you wear jewelry."
I guess I'll have to hammer the point home. "How many other downtown stores do you suspect have a 'closed' sign up at three in the afternoon?" If this were a cartoon, the light bulb would have just turned on over his head. Then suddenly he pulls me down and hides us behind a car.
"We gotta be careful, or she'll see us!" he whispers. Will's seen too many movies, I think.
"Who cares if she sees us?" I say. "We're not the ones with anything to hide." Still, I have no problem indulging in whatever little spy fantasy he's playing out right now, so we watch her through a side window. She's definitely nervous.
Two guys casually walk out the door of the jeweler's. One second later, an alarm goes off in the shop. They immediately look panicked and scramble into a car, practically knocking each other over doing so. Idiots probably trusted the clerk that he wasn't going to tell anybody.
"Well, we're registered now, Will," I say, standing up. "Let's do this. First, I'll need my--" I haven't finished, and I already feel the straps around my shoulders and the flamethrower in my hand. "Thank you." Will's in costume himself now. He's eager. Here we go.