We all bundled into Rose's car, one of the new girls stepping right on my ankle as she clambered in. Pain shot up my leg, but I managed to contain it, biting down on my sleeve. It was staring to hurt a little less now, thanks mainly to Cindy's bandages. I'd have to thank her properly for them sometime.
As the car sped through the city, I cleaned the gun I had picked up. The clip I had loaded was now totally out, I had emptied the last rounds into a couple of agents in the sewers, and I needed to be ready in case we received an unfriendly welcome, which, in light of how my day had gone so far, was highly likely. In the cramped space in the back it was difficult to try and force the new clip into place, but I had a little previous experience, and managed eventually.
Cindy was sitting in the front cleaning her knives. She had really given me a start, whipping them out. She'd always been the 'cute doctor girl from downstairs' to me, I'd never though she was that good with weapons.
Then again, I didn't think I was that good with them either, and yet I was still alive. And so was everyone else, yet none of them looked like they'd ever had formal training, so how the hell had we done it? I was woken from my thoughts by Cindy's voice,
"Terence, you ok?" I shrugged, and flashed a brief, tired smile, she smiled back, and looked down at my foot, the bandage just showing over the top of my boots.
Then we stopped, grinding into a gravel driveway. Cindy got out, after a short discussion, and walked up to the door. She rang the bell, loudly, but no one answered. There was sigh of relief from Rose, I glanced over at her, eyebrow raised.
"I take it the two of you don't get on?"
"You might put it like that." She replied, and got out.
The rest of us got out of the cramped back seat, the punk-haired girl stepping on my ankle again, and followed Rose into the house.