Alex went to the closet and wrestled open the squeaky, screeching closet door to find a plastic zipper bag full of extra bedding. One of the extras was a blanket, one of the ones you only ever seemed to find in motels--clean, but made of some weird foamy type of fabric that he hated even touching.
He wadded it up and tossed it wordlessly to Remington, who was still shivering, and the girl next to him, who seemed just generally as if she could use a pile of blankets. For that matter, Richard and the other girl could probably use a blanket too, he reasoned, so he threw a second blanket their direction.
"Gonna have to make those work, 'cause they're all we've got," he informed them, in lieu of answering Remington's question immediately. He looked between all of them for a long moment, trying to judge if he trusted them with his name, and then figured--what the hell? It wasn't like they could really do much with it, and there was a non-zero chance they could just find it themselves at their earliest opportunity.
Plus, he kind of felt bad for them. His conscience, even as atrophied as it was, probably wasn't going to let him hear the end of it if he gave them some random name just for the hell of being ornery and obnoxious. It wasn't like he was giving them his credit card number...
"Alex. Last name Colt, like the horse." He said, and to save a whole round of introductions, nodded to each of them in turn.
"Romulus Remington, Elenna Fee, Georgina Gilmore, and Richard Something." Introductions taken care of as far as he was concerned, he looked back at Remington.
"You're talkin' about Tex Moseley?" he guessed with reasonable confidence. There couldn't possibly be that many folks in hunter circles named Texas who were running safehouses, right?
He wadded it up and tossed it wordlessly to Remington, who was still shivering, and the girl next to him, who seemed just generally as if she could use a pile of blankets. For that matter, Richard and the other girl could probably use a blanket too, he reasoned, so he threw a second blanket their direction.
"Gonna have to make those work, 'cause they're all we've got," he informed them, in lieu of answering Remington's question immediately. He looked between all of them for a long moment, trying to judge if he trusted them with his name, and then figured--what the hell? It wasn't like they could really do much with it, and there was a non-zero chance they could just find it themselves at their earliest opportunity.
Plus, he kind of felt bad for them. His conscience, even as atrophied as it was, probably wasn't going to let him hear the end of it if he gave them some random name just for the hell of being ornery and obnoxious. It wasn't like he was giving them his credit card number...
"Alex. Last name Colt, like the horse." He said, and to save a whole round of introductions, nodded to each of them in turn.
"Romulus Remington, Elenna Fee, Georgina Gilmore, and Richard Something." Introductions taken care of as far as he was concerned, he looked back at Remington.
"You're talkin' about Tex Moseley?" he guessed with reasonable confidence. There couldn't possibly be that many folks in hunter circles named Texas who were running safehouses, right?