Walt took his exit from his Mother in anger. Once he closed the door behind him, Walt leaned against it. That woman must have really believed him to be an idiot. How could she do this to him? Walt grabbed the bridge of his nose in part by the rising anger, and part by an escalating headache. There was a nagging impulse to burn down this building, just like the lab. At this point, what difference would it make? None. His Mother had reach for resources that he could only dream of. The truth is that he was hurt. This was his mother. He decided to write her off completely. It might be healthy to wait until he calmed down? No, after that little talk, he was through with that toxic, greedy, tyrant of a Mother.
Firstly, his mother had several safe houses within city limits. There were a few fully stocked with food, water, and enough supplies to last through eternity. Out of all of those places, she did not even offer one. He could haves stayed put for weeks, months, or longer until things cooled down. It would not have cost anything. He would even be able to survive in one of the empty hide outs. He knew how to be resourceful. She did not offer him any of them. Why? That is what bothered him the most.
Secondly, she had plenty of people that could escort him safely to city limits. More than enough people. Some of them had great fighting skills. Walt counted at least five of the guys. One of them was standing at the door right now. These people knew Walt since he was a teenager. Three of them had to fetch him from the school he was expelled from. His mother didn't turn on him then. So, why now?
Lastly, which bothered him most, was her suggesting he find the street weasels that caused that ruckus for the Boss. She would not just get him involved with some street people. Especially if they were under the same type of heat Walt was. His mother also knew that he would not be able to bunk with anyone. Certainly not with people he did not know or trust. Not offering a place or guard, fine but take things that far was just a slap in the face. It was certainly bad business. What if the Boss knew his Mother sent Walt to bunk with them in the first place?
Something clicked at that thought. She was going to hand them all on a silver platter to the Boss. From an operation view, it made sense. All four of them interfered with the business. His Mother would remain in the good books with the Tears by offering her son as a sacrificial lamb. The punishment would probably be a public display of power. They may even have an increase of supporters from outside the city. This was a great plan if Walt was as stupid as his Mother thought him to be.
He pushed himself from the door. Daylight was not going to last much longer. He needed to get whatever was available in the mess of supplies on the upper floor before he made a rush for a shelter. He pushed the stairwell door open. He took the stairs by twos to get to the third floor. The door took a heavy push. Walt stopped himself from expending all of his energy. He would need it later. The last time he saw this area, it was not nearly as packed. There were boxes, footlockers, backpacks, and a plethora of other storage containers. There was hardly time to search through everything. He went to the crate closest to him. It had the New Government logo painted in green on the lid. The nails were already removed. Metals were needed by the idiots in charge. Walt collapsed to his knees when he saw the contents.
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At the very top of the supplies a list documenting the contents made Walt's hands shake with fury. "Housing number 1352, two bags. Housing number 1353, four bags". These supplies were supposed to be given to the people of the city. His eyes drifted over all of the containers, his anger growing. He kept going through what he could reach. Everything was piled to the ceiling. This was only the entrance to the floor with other rooms that were possibly just as filled. Walt found clothing, food, medicine, and water all supposedly given to the citizens. In one box, he found a letter addressed to his mother. He read it to himself. He read it again. He took one last glance at the supplies. If only he could cause this whole building to go down. His eyes took in every word of the letter before he placed it in his back pocket.
"We here at New Capital wish you well. We are quite pleased with your commitment to the cause of rebuilding your very fine city. Additional supplies will be sent on a bi-weekly basis as the population increases. The reports provided gives hope to all that this once great nation will thrive once again. We have placed a commemorative statue in the center of New Capital.
Please, let New Capital know of any assistance that may arise in the future. I will see to it personally. Also, on a personal note, I would like to extend our son an invitation to visit. It has been far too long since I have been able to see Walter. Extend to him my greetings. I heard of his difficulties in college. Perhaps we can provide him a job in the lower part of New Capital. It is quiet on the outskirts. We both know he does not do well in crowded places. I may be able to pull a few strings to get him an office to work in by himself."
He flung a backpack from top of a pile then filled as many water bottles he could. He grabbed a second pack, stuffing this one with so many food packets that it was difficult to zip it closed. He rummaged through clothing to find a sweater, a jacket stuffed with some type of material for warmth, thick socks, new denim jeans, a cold weather breathing mask, thick knitted gloves, boots, scarf, and as much as Walt hated the idea, a hat. He even found a blade. He did not know how to use it for defense but he could it to cut into packaging or other stuff like that. He got changed into the new gear up, leaving his other stuff on the floor. He hefted the two packs on his shoulders, then noticed an extra blade. He had an idea.
He went down to his Mother's door, stabbed the letter into the door. He stabbed the door again a few times before walking at a calm pace to the stairwell. For annoyance, Walt slammed the door behind him. Once he reached the building entrance, the posted guy crossed his arms while shaking his head, "Too cold out there, Junior. Don't want you to freeze out there."
Walt was already red-faced from being angry while his eyes were a bit popped out. All he said was, "Don't." He pushed his way past the guard. The guy knew better than pick a fight with Walt, or should have known. Either way, the guard did not attempt to block or stop him. Pure determination, anger, and an ever growing hatred for his Mother gave him enough energy to get to his destination. He was going to get one of those hideouts. He knew the perfect place. Walt's Mother closed a safehouse for being unstable. It was past the park. With the mask, the wind chill would not kill him in the middle of the night. He just needed to keep out of sight. That was going to be challenging. Walt felt like he wore an invitation to get mugged.
***
Merri woke suddenly. Both men snorted, adjusted, then went back to sleep. She cautiously stood up to stare out of the doorway. She leaned against the frame. Someone was on their way to the hideout. There was no idea who it was. All she knew, was an energy hot with anger was coming. She looked at the two men sleeping, wondering if she should just wake them up on a hunch? She decided it would be best to keep watch for as long as possible. If this feeling got too intense, she would wake Matt, first.