Exhaling, Gale turned her head back into the low lit forge. The shutters had been barricaded, the work spaces removed of goods and laid down as breaks between the entrance. It was huddled at the back, the tiny frightened eyes staring at the smith. Their lip forced up into a curl, a finger placed across before she turned back to the door. Her voice whispered, "I'm just steppin' out for a bit. Gonna see if I can find your ma. Mark, while I'm gone you are in charge. You got?"
The pair, Mark and Eleanor, had run straight to the forge when they lost their mother in the chaos of the rioting. Mister Saunders was always a safe person to go to, capable of keeping young minds in one place while he worked. Gale did not hesitate on opening the door and ushering them inside, hiding them towards the back and keeping them out of sight. That was two days ago however; there had yet to be any sign of the woman in question. The smith frowned, it was problematic - drawing out to more of an issue as time stretched on. Carefully, Gale took the forge key and secured it on their person. The coat came next, hiding the sin that she hid beneath the layers - Liberator loaded with shot and caps, another six of the prototype cartridges within an inside pocket. The main weapon of choice however was an iron knife, a good ten inches of blade and a curling, twisting hilt.
"You know the knock don't you? Answer for no one except for that one."
A small whimper of noise. Was it really okay to leave them here?
It had to be. She needed to get answers of some form - or if not that then food.
The smith slipped out between the gap in the door and promptly locked it.
Darting out across the street, the form ducked into the shadow of the alleyway. Feet moved softly, form slinking as it lingered in the low light. The faint murmur of voices gave her pause, a rasp that echoed between the buildings and before being sharply snuffed out. A louder footfall moved away, indistinct voices fading from earshot. Continuing to move, the smith shuffled, bending to see what had been left behind in the gloom. She regretted looking. Form froze at the junction of alleyways, the remains of a smashed in face and a throttled neck absorbing her vision.
Male. Blunt force.
A small crouch in, she saw the dark green clothing, the start of finer features.
An Unc-
"Oi, over there!" Her head turned as she saw the shapes returning, humanoid in shape growing into more. She blinked, hearing the feet move into a run. Gale did not hang about. The form immediately darted away, leaping over the left corpse and down the other way. No time to think, the feet thundered off down the alleyway and away from the forge. She was too close to safety, running back would only drag others into danger. Feet skidded, the alley opening out into the next street over.
Don't stop!
Up and over, she gave a pivot as she looked back. The hunt was on. The body lurched away, catching the glimpse of the three who began their chase. Down the main street, the effects of the rioting opened out before her. Mere snatches, burned wood, slumped forms of others left behind. A hissing crack sounded out, a thunderous roar racing out from behind. The smith threw themselves to the floor, hands above their head. Slamming to the ground, the smash of shot splintered against one of the buildings. The knife skittered across the floor. Behind the hoots and hollers rung out, herself groaning as she dragged herself up. Fingers fumbled for the hilt, a glance back as she watched the shooter haphazardly attempt to reload the pistol. The others continued on.
Not like this!
Scrambling up, she forced her legs into movement. How many seconds did she have - thirty? Forty? Line of sight needed to be broken. Dashing down the street, she took the next turn, form twisting as she grasped whatever came into range to block the way. No time to pay attentions to the signs, a crashing of racking falling into the street behind. A string of curses from the pursuers, the smith threw themselves down another alleyway. Feet picked up, up over the debris as the line of sight was broken for a moment.
Ahead a wooden fence loomed, cutting the alley in half. The smith leapt at it, hands reaching up for the top. Feet pressed, pushing upwards while the arms moved. Behind the shouts continued, attention drawn her way. Clambering up, the awkward climb continued as the pair closed in. At the end now she saw the shooter, standing at the mouth of the alleyway. The foot kicked down at the grabbing hands, arms straining as she swung herself up onto the top. Leg over the top, the pistol at the end took aim.
"Shi-"
The thundering shot fired once more. Arms flaying, the tentative balance at the top was lost. Hands grasped at air, lungs screeching as gravity took its toll. Over the other side the smith fell. Twisting, the side met earth, head smacking into the ground. White noise filled her ears, hands pressing as she tried to pull herself up. Numbing took over, legs wobbling as she found purchase despite the splitting of her sides.
Never should have left. Not like this. Come on Gale.
Shaking her head she pulled herself along. Chest burning, teeth gritted. Shoulder bumped into the wall, the shouts coming from behind. Cheering, the sick bastards. She had to keep moving, it was not safe here. Up towards the end of the alleyway, the heaving form of Gale took its pause - a momentary respite as the route onwards was checked.