Al could tell she’d irritated the man.  She was freaking out.  He got shot!  Did he expect everyone to just ignore it?  She glanced around.  Maybe that was the norm...<br/><br/>“Sorry,” she said, raising her hands in a surrender motion.  “Hey, it doesn’t make you weak if you accept help, you know,” she called at the man’s retreating back.  “Thanks for the offer.  I don’t have far to go...”  She almost flipped the guy off.  Gods and Demons, she thought.  Men were...  No, she stopped herself.  The guy got shot; he was probably freaking out in his own way.  She took a breath and calmed down, glancing around for someone to question her.<br/><br/>What would she say?  This guy who knew my Mom’s boyfriend...yeah, the one who ripped her throat out and seemed to be drinking her blood....  Well, he threw me over the bar and did a few other things and then vanished---poof.<br/><br/>She turned away from the people, giving them her back while she looked around.<br/><br/>Shivering, Al wrapped her arms around herself and started to walk away, slowly at first because you don’t want to draw attention when you’re making a getaway.  And, as soon as she got up a block, she broke into a run.<br/><br/>It felt good to be moving, legs reaching, arms pumping, hands relaxed as she made her way right down the yellow line in the middle of the street, heading for her Blinker Town home; a pink trailer with no wheels in a park where it was best not to know what your neighbors were doing.  It looked like shit on the outside, but she’d renovated the interior and it suited her.<br/>