“Detention, for robbing a bank?” Connor asked.

“Because he talked about it at school,” the other guy said. “Dumbass. He had to go to court, but they ducked it. School wasn’t as nice.”

“Don’t follow my example. You don’t want to risk it, you two,” Fappy said.

A blue sedan with a tattered flag mounted on one of the windows passed down the road about a block away. It slowed, and then honked the horn.

“Oh shit!” Holly said.

The car honked again. It was an angry honk.

“Go,” Fappy said, and the two younger teenagers ran off. Then, to Damsel, he said, “My mom. She’s cool about most things, you know, she lets us cut school, but talking to you might push it.”

“I’ll go,” Ashley said.

“Actually, I, uh,” Fappy said. He pointed. “You mind?”

His intention was to walk with her. They walked in the direction of where she’d stowed the bags. Just the two of them.

“So, I know you disappear now and then. Pete used to always look you up and try to see what you were doing. Hometown cape pride, you know?”

She nodded.

“You keep coming back here.”

She didn’t immediately respond. Familiar faces and places mattered in a way she couldn’t put to words, even if some of those places closed down or faces left, like the stoners were doing. More practical was the fact that here, at least, she knew where to go. Food, clothing, places she could head to if the PRT started acting like it knew where she was.

She wasn’t about to admit that, though. The stoner kids were feckless and useless, but they looked up to her.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

“It’s home, right?”

She shrugged. It was home, she just wished it wasn’t.

“Right. What I’m wondering is, you going to be around? I’m thinking about my nephew and his stepsis.”

“I don’t know. No plans right now.”

“Can you make sure Connor and Holly are left alone? I don’t want them getting caught up in anything too shady, and Connor’s dad’s one of those guys who’ll take anything. Connor’s got the DNA for that stuff, and Pete or Popcap might try when they get back.”

“I’m not in a position to see him or tell him what to do. If he wants to do it, he’s going to do it when I’m not in town.”

“Fuck,” Fappy said. “It’s fucked up, you know? The guys that grow up seeing the worst side of that stuff still end up doing it.”

“It’s the way it is,” she said.

“I guess. And I guess, um, hmm,” he didn’t seem to be able to find the words.