At service that day, it had become very apparent. It had been going on for a few weeks now, but today there was a single person sat on the benches. Many of the regular faces they would speak to each week had gradually dropped off. Even those who had rallied around the burnt-down church, donating funds, furniture or even food. It had gotten to the point where Mother Mercy had chosen to sell a few things to feed the Madonnas and the Sanctuary Kids.
In a way, it had brought them closer together, or maybe that was the experience they had gone through with the House of Cards and the rogue Salamander. Not everyone had come through into the main room that day, but they could hear what was going on and participated in the rebuilding process. Their regular chores being replaced with clearing the debris, painting, scrubbing, and generally making good. Whatever the cause, the group now shared food more freely, and even Mother Hope had warmed up to some of the kids.
Mother Mercy had decided to still go through with the service that day, though delivering an abridged version. The old woman hobbled over at the end, coming to speak with her directly, and making a donation for healing her bad knee. She said her thanks and walked off confidently on the healed joint, not looking back.
"We can't go on like this," said Mother Hope.
"I don't see what choice we have," Mother Mercy replied.
"Your weapons cupboard won't last forever. I know you've still got a few bits in there, but you shouldn't have given so many away to those kids."
"The kids are the future," she replied.
"Does Sanctuary even have a future? I mean, why don't we just move? There's nothing to keep us hear anymore."
"I've thought about it."
"Is that it?" asked Mother Hope. "Surely you've got a better answer than that?"
"Do you know how long it took to fix this place up? To build a community here? To foster a set of believers and locals who relied on us? I don't want to give up on that so easily."
"Can't we do something then? The House of Cards, they blame us for everything. No one else could be behind this."
"It's the House of Cards alright. But they think we're responsible for their son's death. What can we do… apologise? Nothing would be good enough. It doesn't matter that it was the Salamanders—they need someone to vent their wrath upon, and that's us."
"So what do you suggest?" asked Mother Hope.
"I'm still thinking about that," said Mother Mercy.
*
Captain Pyre had followed Jack's instructions to an industrial estate on the edge of the district. He'd thought about keeping him alive till he had verified the information, but as much as he hated to admit it, the man was powerful, not just in terms of actual strength, but politically also. He didn't know what would happen if his faction had found him left tied up in one of their facilities. Sure, the rule was no one leaves, but usually, they wouldn't kidnap a prominent member of another faction without some kind of authorisation from higher up.
He'd been staking out the place for a few days now. The stale chips and greasy wrapping papers from smiley burger were beginning to fil his front seat and the vehicle had developed an unpleasant aroma. He needed a shower. He yawned and gulped down a large mouthful of sweet liquid, which had gone flat.
During this time, he'd seen many people coming and going, usually staying for a few hours at a time. There was no sensible pattern to it, with people going back and forth at all hours, many of them never to return again, or at least, not in the few days he's been there. He didn't know anyone from the shadow faction directly, but he'd heard the rumours and wondered if any of the people he'd seen could be thought of as elite. It was always possible they had someone tucked away inside as a guard, but he wasn't going to find out by waiting here any longer. And yet, he needed an in.
Just then, he spotted someone leaving. They'd only been there for thirty minutes, bucking the trend, and so he chose to pursue them. Maybe if he could figure out what they were up to in there, it would help him get inside. As the large man's personal transport vehicle left the ground, his own did too, following for a while until the PTV in front of him stopped out of nowhere. He was new to this trailing business… had he got too close?
He pulled up alongside the vehicle. The window came down.
"Are you following me?" asked an older man with bushy white eyebrows.
Pyre could see in that moment that the man's pupils were heavily dilated, despite it being the middle of the day. He looked wealthy, a little haughty, but it was clear from his demeanour he was also a little worried after spotting the Captain. It wasn't that he recognised him, wearing civilian clothes over his spirit armour had been a necessity, hiding his link the Salamanders, but his general appearance was utterly dishevelled and wild looking after multiple days living on junk food and without washing.
"I need to know who's in there," Pyre said, cutting straight to the chase.
"I can't. If you knew, you wouldn't ask," replied the man.
"Was there a woman in her early thirties? Black curly hair, pretty, by the name of Sadie."
"Erm… maybe. I think there was a dropper by that name… I'm not sure…" the man's voice trailed off.
"A dropper?" asked Pyre.
"Yes. They come around and place a drop of nectar in your mouth. And then everything is… perfect." The man closed his eyes and smiled, forgetting about his current predicament. He seemed to be quite satisfied and was struggling to concentrate on the conversation.
"How do I get in?"
Eyes still closed he replied: "You don't. Not like that anyway. You need to be referred by someone and then it'll take a week or two to arrange a meeting. It's worth it though…" He opened his eyes. "Would you… would you like me to introduce you?"
"No, thanks," the captain replied.
"Can I go now?"
He simply nodded in response, and the man set off quickly, as if worried he might change his mind.
Pyre had been hoping he wouldn't have to do anything too drastic. If he could get in and out without having to use his ability, that would be best. He'd already bought a lot of attention to himself. And the fire ability was a dead giveaway. It was what's known as an exclusive ability, one of the few left, where those learning it outside of the faction would end up dead. Using it was tantamount to declaring what faction was involved and with his involvement with the House of Cards recently it wouldn't take too much thought to put all the pieces together.
He brought the car back down to the spot he was parked in previously and made a call to his son.
*
Mother Mercy was in the backroom doing some training. Often, she would find thoughts would come to her when concentrating on something else. She had built up a good sweat, and though she couldn't afford a sparring partner right now, the recent clash with the House of Cards was all the motivation she needed.
She was in the middle of a series of swings and thrusts that she had practiced many times before when suddenly she stopped with the staff held out in front. She'd finally made a decision. If they couldn't run the service anymore, they only had one choice left if they wanted to stay afloat. It was one she had put off, thinking she had put that chapter of her life behind her.
If they were going to survive, they needed to become a faction.