Snippet #1149577

Kit nodded to Amunet's offer, certain from her peculiar new sense that Norman would somehow not object to this. When Amunet took their plates, Kit made her way back out to the foyer, rummaging through an expansive hall closet until her fingers alighted on what she'd been looking for: a pair of canvas-and-rubber shoes. She'd never owned any hiking boots or anything like that, but Kit figured that something like these would do. She'd always preferred what she thought of as "real" shoes to heels and dressy things like Mum and Liz had both been fond of... she was more like her dad, who would have worn tennis shoes to work every day if he could have.

A bittersweet smile tinged her lips as she ran her hands over the other shoes still there. Mum's favorite lacquer-smooth heels, Liz's old strappy sandals, Dad's patent-leather work shoes... she could still smell the polish on them. Shaking her head to herself, Kit straightened, pulling the sneakers on over soft ankle-length socks, tying the laces by muscle memory alone. Norman, she knew from the sound of his walk, was already wearing shoes, so she did not set his out for him as she might have otherwise.

The lock made the characteristic clicking noise of the tumbler locking into place, and the three of them were soon on their way to Exodar via car, a nondescript black sedan that did not ooze wealth so much as anonymity, a much preferential state fro what they were doing, perhaps.

The city itself was quiet, even to Kit's enhanced hearing. Certainly, there was movement in a few of the nearby houses and apartment buildings, but the place seemed less like a city and more like a ghost town, which, she supposed, it might very well be. The stench of death was enough to turn her stomach, but she held the instinct to retch in check. It wouldn't be quite as bad for Norman or Amunet, but then, they'd have to see what she was smelling: the garbage piled haphazardly, the stains where bodies had begun to decompose before being somehow removed, the corpses where they had not been so.

"Well," she said, trying not to let her discomfort show in her tone, "where should we begin?"

"I shall be headed to the Northeast," Norman broke in, tone grave and without the joviality she was accustomed to hearing in it, "I will be back at this spot in precisely three hours." Unseen to Kit, he passed Amunet a look that clearly indicated he was placing an important trust in her. There was not quite a threat in it, since he did not feel this necessary; it was obvious enough how he would react if harm came to either of them, particularly Katherine.

With that, he moved off in the promised direction to do she knew-not-what, and the two young women were left alone to do as they would.