Old Cass

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Helen shouted. Sarah couldn't discern if her face was distorted in disbelief or terror. Regardless, her mouth was wide open and her eyebrows had disappeared behind her deep red block fringe.

She sat between the two women and shrugged glancing at each of them taking a sip of an orange cocktail through a straw. They were crammed into a small booth in a loud bar playing music with a heavy bass. Helen had already been appalled at the lack of coat check on her way to their minuscule table. She had ordered a round of cocktails 'with umbrellas' for the three of them. Helen had rolled her eyes and crossed her arms across her stomach with her handbag on her lap. Sarah had sat on the other side pf Her and kept her arms on either side of her clasping the bottom of the seat with her fingers leaning forward to ensure she could see both women.

"This is a joke, you're joking." Helen sputtered grasping at the woman's arm. "What are you doing talking to that... that... fuck!" She was wearing a vest made of black leather, her hair was blonde and permed, Sarah couldn't be certain if it was a wig. Her grey empty eyes were rimmed with purple glitter. Sarah thought She looked tired but her amusement at Helen's reaction brightened her features. She shook her head looking down at her drink casually and then looked to her right and caught Sarah's eye with a nonchalant raise her of eyebrows.

"I'm sorry..." Sarah called over the music, "Who is Old Cass?" Helen leaned forward and shot Sarah a glare across the mound of platinum curls. Sarah had never heard the name but suddenly felt exposed under Helen's glowering. It seemed to be the first true point of contention Sarah had witnessed between the women and She was very much enjoying herself.

"You'll have seen her in something old probably. Not that she's relevant any more." Helen explained, "She's an actress."
"Thespian." She interjected.
"Old bat." Helen spat draining her glass with a grimace.
"Old friend." She said turning to Sarah with a smile
"I would hope not." Helen declared darkly.

5 years ago

“Goodness gracious it’s cold out here. Elvis did I bring a scarf?” An elderly woman shrouded in a thick layer of fur turned to her tall impeccably suited and incredibly tall gentleman with a full head of slicked black hair. He began to pat the pockets of his jacket with little success. 

“Why on earth my granddaughter would want her birthday of all things in a place like this is beyond my understanding. Good Lord Elvis do you have the scarf or not?”

The Goliath's lips were down-turned in a thin line as he shook his head morosely looking down at the smaller frame of his employer her smooth golden bonnet of hair bobbing below him furiously.

“Then don’t just stand there, let’s move, we’re never going to get there at this rate. Do you know? I said you should have hired a car. This is outrageous, expecting me to walk out here in this dreadful place exposed to the elements. Don’t pout Elvis.” She looked up at him her green eyes lined with black, daubed with effervescent blue eye-shadow. She reminded him of his elderly aunt but without the kindness in her eyes. He quickly made an effort to adjust his facial features uncertain of how his mouth was set and how to prevent it from pouting.

Cassandra had ventured into the Commercial District for her granddaughter’s birthday party with the aim of attending and presenting the child with an envelope of money. She would then drink a large glass of expensive wine, resolutely ignoring her son-in-law and leave briskly to return to her apartments in the Quadrangle. She did not intend to stay a minute longer than was absolutely necessary. She had initially felt no desire to attend the gathering however she had received a painting from the child depicting the family all together smiling. Cassandra appreciated that her likeness was wearing pearls and sunglasses. The crude figures were surrounded by boxes of what could be presumed colourfully wrapped presents but were brown mixed smudges. The emotional blackmail had successfully moved Cassandra sufficiently to make an appearance. 

Unfortunately due to the length of time it had taken for the painting to thaw through Cassandra’s icy exterior she had failed to make any travel arrangements and had simply marched out of her apartment on a whim. She should have been meeting with Ellis and Duncan, associates who had travelled from the north to visit the Big Smoke and take in the sights. The thought of entertaining the pair had suddenly seemed incredibly dreary and Elvis had said they took her cancellation over the telephone politely. Elvis had chosen not to elaborate on Duncan's hurt tone and disappointed sigh. It hadn't felt appropriate to discuss further as Ms Calvert had already wandered into the hallway and was struggling with her coat. 

The streets downtown in the Commercial District were a complex maze of skyscrapers crammed with shops on each floor and signs adorning the sides in neon lights depicting the names of the various businesses and enterprises jostling for the opportunity to remain in business. Cassandra had deemed the metal concrete buildings garish and unsightly. There were no skyscrapers in the Quadrangle, only antiquated esoteric buildings which had been restored and preserved to their original beauty over the years. It could feel like exploring the pages of a history book wandering through the pedestrianised quiet of the Quadrangle, there was a safety and vibrancy which faded as soon as one passed into the rest of the city. It was all muted greys and blacks, neon glowing garishly defining the separations between each dreary tightly packed buildings. Cassandra had heard in the Business District the architecture was more varied however travelling there would require compulsion to travel to the opposite side of the Quadrangle which Cassandra rarely had any reason to visit.

“Would you hurry up Elvis? Stop dragging your feet man. We are going to be late!” She snapped viciously turning to look at the man in the black coat and white shirt tie surveying the area around him with grim fascination. “And then I will never hear the end of it…” She added under her breath. She wondered if it would be worth calling a car from someone somewhere to navigate the area more successfully. The map Elvis had displayed on his mobile phone had suggested the journey on foot from the Watchtower would take ten minutes.

Elvis had spotted several suspicious individuals, there was a girl sitting in the gutter smoking cigarettes shivering against the cold air. He deemed her with the potential to spread disease. He determined her sunken grey eyes and pallid skin were dead giveaways. Also the smoke could enrage Ms Calvert, she didn't like her coat to smell of outside odours. There was also a couple walking ahead both in fitted trench-coats, they appeared affluent but that could be a ruse. He couldn’t determine if they were concealing any weapons to dismember a frail old woman. Their loud conversation seemed to be a distraction, this could also cause Ms Calvert some level of irritation. Finally he noted there was the man with the large feet trying to hail a taxi, what abnormally large feet they were, where did he even buy shoes? Elvis considered asking the gentleman about his shoe purchases.

Cassandra let out a loud terrified shriek as a figure brushed past Elvis and rammed into the older woman snatching her purse and racing down the street. The young woman in the gutter sprang to her feet and cried out hysterically before chasing frantically after the figure.

“Oh oh!” Cassandra was trying to hold her hair in place as Elvis appeared by her side and steadied her. “Elvis! Where the bloody hell were you? That man has my bag!” She turned and pointed in the direction the figure had ran toward and they watched as the frail girl rammed into the figure knocking him to the floor. A loud scream erupted from both parties melding to create a loud echo above the din of the city. “Oh.” Cassandra intoned with surprise shuffling towards the pair with Elvis striding behind her.

Elvis and Cassandra approached the mix on bodies on the floor illuminated with a lamppost situated directly next to them. The girl had straddled the man’s chest and was pounding at his bloodied face. He had black skin and closely shorn hair and was wailing in agony. Her hands were balled tightly as she struck at him repeatedly tears streaming from her eyes as she sobbed and gasped openly. Cassandra’s handbag lay on the pavement next to them, its contents scattered everywhere. Elvis bent down gingerly to gather up the items and handed the bag to his employer who observed the scene dispassionately.

“Okay, that’s enough, Elvis?” Cassandra nodded to her bodyguard. The larger man clasped the young woman’s shoulders, his wide hands covering most of small frame. She rose to her feet unsteadily and clambered away from the bleeding man on the floor as Elvis gripped her gently supporting her. “Is he alive?” Cassandra asked Elvis as he released the young woman and turned to her. Elvis shrugged and glanced at the sprawled body and noted that there was an unmistakeable soft rise and fall from his chest. He nodded to the older woman who sighed deeply.

The young woman with bloodied knuckles was lighting a cigarette she had produced from her loose pockets. None of her clothes seemed to fit her and everything was baggy and torn as if they had been hanging from her back for weeks. She held out the carton absentmindedly toward Cassandra as she inhaled deeply. Cassandra shook her head and smiled briefly. She was barely a girl and she was wiping her damp hollow cheeks with her fingers distractedly with black encrusted fingernails.

“Well, I must say thank you.” Cassandra said piercing the silence. The girl nodded looking off into the distance taking the cigarette from her mouth to exhale. “Are you homeless?” Cassandra asked abruptly. The girl turned her head and pointedly stared at Cassandra, grey eyes wide and glistening, her mouth was slightly agape. At that moment she was trying to calculate the correct answer in this scenario and relented with a slight bob of her head.

“Well then.” Cassandra was satisfied, “I am a patron of a homeless charity of some sort and I believe that I should do my part to repay you for your assistance. Elvis, we’re going back to the Quadrangle.” She took the girl’s arm in hers and the girl was dragged towards her suddenly rubbing against her fur coat. Cassandra considered the cost of the garment being steam cleaned before taking the girl’s hand and nudging their bodies apart at an arms-length.
“Did I ask you your name?” Cassandra asked Her.
“No.” The girl answered curtly.
“Oh Elvis do hurry up!” Cassandra was distracted by the larger man shuffling behind them surveying the area carefully before following the women.

As they approached the Watchtower, one of the access points for the Quadrangle, Cassandra had declared bitterly that she had not chosen the correct shoes for this amount of walking. The structures were created from converted ground floors within several buildings in a street which had been merged and converted into a hallway. Offices and shops were maintained above and the buildings looked no different from a birds-eye perspective.

“Just don’t say anything and take her through one of the gates.” Cassandra had advised Elvis as they walked through the sliding doors into the pale cavernous room. The structure which appeared to be a standard city block from outside looked like an aircraft hanger once inside. Cassandra rummaged through her bag and produced her resident card which she swiped at the turnstile before marching unblinking through the gate toward the full body scanner ahead. She heard a commotion as a security guard ran towards Elvis at the turnstiles.

“I’m sorry but you can’t take that with you.” A woman in a baseball cap called sidling past Cassandra and positioning herself at the turnstile opposite Elvis. A loud bleeping noise was emanating from the turnstile and it appeared to be blocked preventing him from walking through.
“Well don’t be ridiculous!” Cassandra called towards the woman imperiously.
Elvis looked towards her with the girl who had been slung over his shoulder. He was holding her ankles at his collarbone with one hand, attempting to swipe his worker’s card on the scanner to no effect. The girl’s stringy mousy hair hung limply around her skull as she faced Elvis’ back unmoving.

“That’s my bodyguard and he bringing some important luggage with him.” Cassandra declared approaching the security guard with her black baseball cap and bulletproof vest.

“Ma’am I’m sorry, that is not luggage. That is a person. I can’t let her through if she doesn’t have the correct identification.” The security guard declared bluntly. "Everyone has to swipe here."
“Well this is absolutely ridiculous.” Cassandra seethed, “I am a resident here. I should be able to transport my property.”
“Okay, I get what you’re trying to do but from my perspective you’re trying to smuggle someone into the Quadrangle and that is a breach of security.” The woman in the cap sighed monotonously.

“Elvis!” Cassandra barked, “You had better have brought your wallet.”
“Okay, if you’d like to follow me Ma’am.” The woman swiped her own card against the barrier and nudged Cassandra back through towards the other side gathering the group and walking towards the eastern wall of the Watchtower. Cassandra looked at the long line of empty turnstiles and body scanners, she sighed briefly. Well at least it was a quiet evening in which no one would see this debacle. Perhaps the luggage comment had been ill-conceived. Could the girl pass off as a member of her family she wondered?

They found themselves a small grey windowless room, the security guard sat across from the three who were seated at a white plastic table polished to gleam in the fluorescent light.
“Simple question,” The security guard spread her hands openly in front of her, “Do you have any documentation?” She referred to the frail girl who in response shook her head.
“She’s homeless!” Cassandra announced.
“No paperwork at all, huh?” The security guard chose to ignore Cassandra. Instead she referred directly to the girl who could be no more than just past her 20^th birthday. “And what business do you have in the Quadrangle this evening?”
The girl shrugged, Cassandra looked across Elvis exasperatedly.

“Look, she’s my long lost daughter and we met in the most dire of circumstances and now I simply must take her home and recover our lost time.” Cassandra’s voice was filled with anguish, “Surely you, Dylan, must be able to empathise with us.”

“My mum used to love your old films Ms Calvert.” The security guard said wistfully having observed the lightning fast change of tack with some admiration, “And I appreciate that you read my name tag but I can’t just let anyone through the barrier.”
Cassandra groaned loudly and whispered in Elvis’ ear, his hand reached into his jacket pocket and produced a leather wallet. He produced a wad of notes from and placed them on the table in front of him stoically.

Dylan reached across and took the small stack of cash, she stood up to put it in her trouser pocket and returned to her seat arms crossed over her chest.

“I need to prove that this girl here is not a threat to the residents of the Quadrangle. Prove it and she can go through.” Dylan leant back in her chair.

The girl rose to her feet timorously and removed her large hooded jacket, this exposed her skeletal arms, she shook the mounds of material, a packet of cigarettes crushed and flecked with grime fell to the table, a lighter clattered onto the gleaming plastic shortly after. The girl then proceeded to remove the layers of clothes she was wearing. All of the clothes were grey with grime as she piled them carelessly onto the table in front of her.

“I like her.” Cassandra muttered marvelling at the girl as she gradually removed and shook each item of clothing.

She stood shivering completely naked, her arms clasped together in front of her, fingers interwoven, elbows knocking together, her upper thighs rubbed together awkwardly. Her emaciated body was grey and withdrawn under the fluorescent lighting. Dylan noted she was malnourished and potentially a drug addict but she wasn’t carrying anything to indicate this.

“Fine.” Dylan declared as she rose to her feet. “I’ll let you through.”
The girl snatched her underwear from the table hurriedly redressing. Elvis was frowning at the ceiling, Cassandra clasped her hands in delight.
“And I promise not to let her bite anyone.” Cassandra declared jovially.

Cassandra was finally back at her apartment and waltzed through door gracefully delighted to be home. The mahogany front door slammed behind Elvis as the group stood in the hallway. Cassandra’s furs were dropped on the floor and shoes kicked against a wall as she glided into the living area.
Elvis and the girl stared blankly at one another, he walked to the fur and picked it up to place it in the hallway cupboard gingerly, She stood silently and observed.

“And they told me to not bring a gun to a child’s birthday party. Ridiculous!” Cassandra muttered appearing in the hallway as Elvis turned towards her. The girl blinked and saw the splatter of blood on the wall and heard the piercing bam! Elvis slumped to the floor a red hole in his forehead, a pool of blood seeping from his skull onto the floorboards. She leapt back as Cassandra appeared beside her.

“You big oaf!” She snarled, “I could have died!” Cassandra kicked him in the side with her pointed toes. The girl looked at Cassandra, grey watery pools wide with disbelief.
“Oh where are my manners?” Cassandra declared, “Would you like a drink? Come now dear.” She was taken by the arm and led away.

Back at the Bar

"She has a proposition." The Wraith said briefly. "She asked for my help."

"You are not doing anything that awful woman tells you." Helen seethed, "You don't have to do anything for her."
She smiled at Helen, "She has one final job for me."