When they stopped for lunch in a town just into Illinois, it was pretty clear that Kris’s confidence had taken a knock.  He was jumpy as they waited in line at the Paris McDonald’s, constantly scanning his surroundings in a way that screamed I’m on the run, catch me!, as far as Kai was concerned, and his fingers flexed constantly at his hip, where the empty holster for his pistol hung.  Kai wanted to give a dramatic sigh and hand the agent’s gun back, but he suspected that doing so in line for a burger would cause panic, and that would be worse than Kris acting like a rookie criminal trying to avoid the police and sticking out like a sore thumb when he tried to hide in plain sight.  Come to guns, Kai wasn’t totally sure he was allowed to have the gun on him at that moment – age aside, because he was definitely too young to have a concealed-carry permit.  Having to obey laws – well, having to know what they were – was becoming a bit of a nuisance.  Just a few months back and he’d had no obligation to care, only an obligation not to get caught.

But he still suspected that laws aside, guns in McDonald’s were Not A Good Idea, and the pistol was beginning to feel very conspicuous in the armpit of the large coat Kris had at him when they’d got out of the car.

Kris dithered a bit when they finally got up to the counter, and then turned to face Kai with obvious reluctance.

“Takeaway or eat here?” he asked, though it was clear from his tone that he wanted to get out of the place pronto.  But, Kai reckoned, he was probably offering because they were going to be stuck in the car for a good long while and he was worried how Kai would react to that.  With good reason: the answer was not well and Kai had a gun.

“Here,” he said.  “And can my portion be large across the board?”

Kris rolled his eyes and turned back to the cashier, but he only got halfway through ordering a happy meal before he caught Kai’s expression and hastily amended it to a Big Mac.  The cashier rang him up, expression glazed from the lunch hour rush, and Kris fished out a card to pay, but then paused, flicking at it with his free hand, and shoved it back into his wallet.

“You got cash?” he asked Kai.  “I’m clean out.”

With reluctance, Kai dug in his pockets.  His reluctance was in part because he was aware that this was a finite stack of cash that he had, and that he didn’t know when he’d get more (he suspected Thant wouldn’t like it very much if he just lifted a few bills from people’s wallets – Myungsoo would be disappointed in him for sure), and in part because it was Kris that was asking.  The dollar bill weighs more or less exactly one gram, he thought to himself as he thumbed through a small wad of notes and pulled out a twenty, slapping it into Kris’s waiting hand.

“Did you know,” he said as Kris handed the money over, “that ninety percent of all bills in circulation have been contaminated by traces of ?”

Kris snatched his hand back from the offending bill as Kai continued, “and also, lots are contaminated by bacteria so you can actually get ill from handling affected notes.  According to science.  Both facts.”

“Dude,” Kris groaned.  “Do I need to know this?”

Kai shrugged innocently.  “Just thought you might like to know there’s only a ten percent change you’re not handling dirty money.”

Kris looked very unimpressed, but he still held a protective arm around the teenager as he shunted him towards the pick-up counter.  The place was now absolutely heaving and Kris was even twitchier than before.  This time, Kai didn’t blame him: it wasn’t possible to keep tabs on people, let alone suspicious people, and there were an awful lot of customers between them and the door.  If they needed to make a hasty exit, it would probably be a flying leap through one of the top panes of glass that made up the windows.  Or maybe through the kitchen, since there wasn’t actually any space to get up momentum for a flying leap.

There was mostly silence between them as they waited for their food to arrive.  Seeing how full the place was, Kai piped up about getting a table while Kris waited, and Kris’s protective arm had tightened into a subtle headlock.

“Not on my watch,” he growled.  “Hungry or not, my job is to keep you alive and right now I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Choking, Kai had agreed that he wasn’t going to nab the last pair of spare seats and the headlock had eased up.  He massaged his throat (it didn’t actually hurt, but he was pretty sure Kris squirmed guiltily when he made a show about being in pain) and sidled a couple of steps away.

The last time Kai had sat down in McDonald’s for a meal had been at the start of summer the previous year with Gina.  She’d nicked one of her father’s cars and suggested going out for a drive.  Kai was still convinced that she’d actually had somewhere in mind for them to go, because she’d stuffed a couple of maps into the car and when he’d gone to meet her, she was pored over a map app on her phone.  They’d got horrendously lost and ended up on the border between Tennessee and Alabama, the car running out of petrol right by the house of an overly zealous bible basher who was apparently the pastor of a local baptist church.  Unsure whether their new companion or non-functioning car was worse, they’d declined his offer for dinner (it was late) and lied that they had friends they were supposed to be meeting in town.  Neither of them had money to get more than fast food while they’d waited for one of Gina’s dad’s men to drop by with more petrol and get the car going again.  It had been so late by the time Gonzales tipped up that the pair of them had been able to watch the sun set from atop a small hill in the town.  As clichéd sunset kisses went, Kai reckoned it had been a pretty decent one.  He was actually still pretty amazed that he and Gina had managed to get back the next day without Gina’s father twigging that he