As the apparent villain "dealt" with the old man, Azumi, too, shouted. She still had her morality intact, after all, and truly wanted to help, to break the man's arm, to save the victim...

...but she couldn't. She couldn't even move. So she just shouted, trying to get free. The soldier reached to her holster, trying to pull out her handgun, to get it free and take this guy down, even if it weren't a kill shot... Too late, couldn't even get a good leverage.

Greg, also, had finally gotten to his senses. He couldn't move much, his wound not helping matters, but he, too, shouted, tried to get free. He had to... No, he, too, couldn't get out, swore under his breath at his failure.

The head rolled away from the corpse, and the sergeant slammed a fist into the ground. "Damnit!"

The one with the machete, the killer of the old man, grinned, looking around at everyone else. He waved to the others. "These ones look good! Time to round 'em up, boys!"

Several more of the gangsters, from the looks of them, came through, one approaching each of them. "Ponytail", as he was, to a degree, known, grinned down at "Joseph". "You ready to have some fun, boy?" For all of them... a foot slammed down.

Watching the man deal with their supposed savior had Cheryl on edge. She too had screamed, struggled even more against the debris fallen on her. Even as a deep gash formed in her leg from the sharp protrusion, she still tried to get herself free, try to save the man.

Kalas, too, shouted out for "Ponytail" to get back, fighting even more to get back to his feet. He couldn't let this happen, couldn't let anyone die again. They were Interferences; they had to stop this one way or another.

They couldn't. When the head rolled away, it was clear that they were too late to save anyone. Cheryl swore loudly, yelled out, "You son of a bitch; you're gonna die for that!" and continued to writhe herself from the wreckage, this time to try to kill the apparent villain.

Kalas, however, was completely silent. Another life lost, and they were all completely useless to prevent it from happening. He, too, slammed a fist into the ground, swore under his breath. How could they have let this happen...?

And then more of the gangsters showed up. The one approaching Cheryl grinned down at her with crooked teeth, making her cringe. Acting quickly, the Holy Mother pulled out her knife, her only weapon, prepared to stab it in the man's foot as soon as he raised the other...

...only for him to stomp on the hand that held the small blade. Cheryl clenched her teeth, holding back the cries as her hand was smashed.

"Don't think so, you little w****." And with that, he kicked her head, knocking her out in one blow.

The gangster approaching Kalas seemed to raise an eyebrow when he saw the strands of blue hair under the bandana. He didn't bother to ask, just stopping before the young man. Kalas glared sharply up at him, too weak to really do anything except hock up saliva and spit right at his foot. The gangster didn't react much, just whiping his shoe against the ground...and then bringing it right into his face before he could try anything else, knocking him out next.

===

[i]The Next Day (August 14th, 1957), Morning
Grateford Prison, Pennsylvania[/i]

It seemed he had an affinity for waking up with headaches every time he was knocked out. Kalas groaned as he awoke on the bench, slowly sitting up and placing his hand over his temples.

"Okay, that bastard dies..." he muttered, immediately recalling the events that had happened before this. He looked up, and saw Greg and Azumi in the corner from where he was. The angel was still unconscious, still heavily wounded, and the soldier was crouched right beside him. It was then that the Divine Child looked up, and saw where they were.

They were all locked in prison cells, in this dark, ruined place. Aside from the three sharing a cell, Cheryl and Spencer were locked in the one opposite to theirs. Adjacent to theirs was that "Joseph" guy, who was also still unconscious.

"...so I guess this is what it's like to be locked up, huh?" Kalas had to ask, in a small attempt to make light of the situation. "Closest I've had was house arrest from that one time."

"With the way you do things, I'm surprised you haven't been actually arrested," Cheryl remarked back at him, having been sitting against the bench and fiddling with her knife. When she had awoke, she had spent most of her time nursing the wound in her leg, which was now a deep, visible scab just stopping before her heel. She only hoped it wouldn't be infected by the time they got out of here.

And she seriously doubted a Save Point was going to spontaneously appear like it did in that heavily raining city.


It was then that the sound of footsteps came closer, though not the same catcalls as usually came with the captors. An older, frail man approached, with black, graying hair and glasses, looking into the cells. He didn't look as sadistic as the others, perhaps a prisoner himself. "How is he?" he asked, looking to the only unconscious one among the Interferences.

Azumi was quiet, not even looking to them. All of her concern was for this one man, one who she peeled the shirt of up somewhat. "It's infected..." she muttered, not even looking to them. "I need some kind of medicine."

He looked left and right, making sure nobody could see... and threw down a small bottle and a roll of bandages. "I thought something bad was going on. Seal it up soon."

She was surprised, but didn't look it, just taking the equipment and starting to work, feeding him the pills, massaging his throat to force them down, then wrapping the bandage.

(A quick talk with him, then we'll get to the next section probably.)