Never Leave A Good Coat Behind

Despite the term safety, safety glass still stings when shards of it hit you. I wished I had my duster to protect me, but it was in a crate labeled with my name and new inmate number. Before the last bits had rained down on the floor, a familiar voice boomed, "MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!" Strong hands yanked me out of my fetal position.

"WAIT!" I shook free as soon as I could stand and raced to the little room where they kept my things. I donned my coat and elbowed some desk-jockey cops onto their keisters. My rescuers helped provide cover fire as we took an extra 30 seconds to exit than they had planned.

"Elsha! What was that for?!" Daemon growled at me from the backseat of a dark car racing away. He yanked his shirt open, flinging buttons off to examine his chest which had taken at least two shots at point blank range by the looks of the dents in his exoskeleton.

"Never leave a good coat behind."

"You could have gotten us all killed!"

"So, where to?"

"A secluded little spot in the country." C:/ grinned.