Solace and Sage sulked at the chain-link fence that barricaded them from the row of garbage trucks, the sign Fast Waste Disposal inscribed into the sides, but neither of them moved, aware of what was to come.

"Worst new year ever," she muttered, pulling her coat taut around her body.

Sage rubbed his hands. "Let's get this over with." He hauled himself up and over the fence with ease, watching her expectantly on the other side.

"This dress nor these shoes were made for climbing," Solace said. She was dressed for gaudy parties, not undergoing parkour in the snow.

He rolled his eyes. "The Solace Laurent I know wouldn't let a thing as flimsy as this stop her," challenged Sage.

She scowled. "You're baiting me," spat Solace, begrudgingly curling her fingers around the frosted fence. "And it's working." There was not an inch of grace as she struggled to gather her bearings, her heels an unacceptable placeholder in the chain-link. Cusses in English and Creole were strewn, the kind that would make Manman's head explode. Her feet hit the ground with a thump, almost hard enough to snap her heel in half. That would have been her final straw.

"That was a sad display of events," Sage mused, hands in his pockets, and sauntered down to the trucks.

"Your birth was a sad display of events," she remarked pettily, matching him in strides.

He glanced down at her, smirking. "I like to believe my birth was a gift to humanity."

They passed the moderately-sized building, blinds drawn but light peering through the gaps. "You're confusing gift with a curse," Solace whisper-yelled.

Sage chuckled, but it was short-lived when they stood in front of garbage trucks number four and five. Solace had called beforehand to explain to the owner, Rufus, that she had lost a bracelet that she believed to be in one of their garbage trucks. Rufus flat out refused to look, but when she said that she would come around to search herself, and the bracelet was her dead grandmother's (an absolute lie, and Solace's soul was one step closer to hell), he finally agreed. Although, he did make them climb over the fence as he also declined to open the gates as he was too busy watching black-and-white re-runs of a crime drama.

Two last trucks had completed their pick-ups between 9:00 and 9:30, which shortened their number of garbage to sort through by three.

Sage gripped the handle of garbage truck number four. He gave her a troubled look, and just before he pushed open the rear loader, he said, "Remember, you'll be ten thousand dollars richer when this is over."

Ten thousand dollars was proving to be not enough when the stench assaulted her nose. There was not one distinct smell that overwhelmed the onslaught, all of them equally horrible. It was like a stirring pot with all the worst smells known to mankind. It was so bad, her eyes began to water.

Sage stepped into the rear, stretching out his hand to help her. Solace swatted away, pulling herself up, earning an unsurprised scoff from him.

"I'll take the left," Sage said, stomping over to his claimed side.

Solace stalked to the right, all the while wondering why she was helping Sage in the first place. She knew why. It was not just about getting him home in one safe piece. It was much more than that, but she let herself be clueless at that moment, allowing her frustration of the night to keep her warm and her hands moving.

She gagged when something wet and squishy touched her feet, heels proving to not be the most appropriate shoe when digging through trash. Solace pinched the box filled with moldy half-eaten pizza and gingerly moved a bag filled with soiled diapers. Her urge to vomit was growing with each encounter.

As she searched through discarded children's toys and fast-food paper bags, Solace kept an eye out for the red tube. It was bright enough to stick out against the piles of rubbish.

"I did not think I would be spending New Year's Eve knees deep in trash," Solace grumbled, kicking away the fifth plastic bag that got caught on her heel. The number of plastic straws, cups, and bags were so substantial, it did not surprise her that global warming would lead to the extinction of humankind.

Sage glanced over his shoulder, chucking a stained corduroy sofa cushion. He was embracing the search, kneeling on the ground, and delving in. Desperation and end-of-life situations made you do crazy things. "You look beautiful knees deep in trash. The expired milk and nail clippings really bring out your..." he faltered at the side of her murderous gaze. "You're looking at me like you want to kill me."

"Going to jail for manslaughter doesn't sound so horrible right about now," she remarked. Solace quickly brushed off a banana peel on her shoulder. Someone clearly did not understand how to sort through their trash.

He went back to his scavenging. "No money if I'm dead," Sage fired back.

"Your body in a coffin is satisfying enough." She paused, digging her hands when she saw a glint of red. She dropped it when she realized it was merely a toy box. "Or better yet, your cold body in a ditch. Let the wolves have at it."

"I refuse to let you outlive me," Sage said, grimacing as he rubbed his hand against his dress pants to remove the unusual stickiness to no avail. "If I die, I'm taking you with me."

Solace raised a brow. "Since when was life a competition?"

He met her gaze, smirking. "Isn't everything with us a competition?"

She let the question marinate in her mind, the two falling silent except for the occasional sound of disgust or the squelching of an unknown substance. Her nose had become accustomed to the putrid smell, her coat dirtied, and shoes besmirched. It must have taken a total of forty-five minutes to search the first truck as the time on her phone glowed 10:25.

They came out empty-handed.

Sage threw open the second and last truck, the two jumping right in with no restraint.

"It has to be in here," Sage declared. "I need it to be in here."

"The painting will be here," she assured. Solace did not believe herself. She halted her search momentarily. "But if it isn't..." She was too scared to utter the next words. "Then what?"

Sage gave her a grim look. "Then I'm stuck working with the company until I die on a job. I can't contact my family." His shoulders hunched. "I'll never get to see you."

Solace shook her head, refusing to let that happen. She finally had Sage back, unknowing that she was looking for him in the first place. But now, she refused to let him go. She had thought about using her fake painting, but Solace did not want to risk tricking the boss of the fear of being caught. "It's here. We just have to keep looking," she said firmly and restarted her search more fervently.

It was inching closer to an hour as they searched thoroughly. Solace was pushing aside newspapers and coffee cups, a pint of paint she believed was empty spilled over, tinging her fingers and the sleeves of her coat yellow. Lipstick-stained napkins, cardboard boxes, dirty tablecloths, and wilted flowers made up most of the garbage. The kind of rubbish that looked like it belonged to a party.

"Solace," said Sage quietly. She did not stop ransacking her side. "If we don't find the painting, can you visit my family for me? You're the only one who knows I'm alive. I just want to know how they're doing every once in a while."

Her searching became more and more vigorous. "You won't need me to do that once we hand over the painting," she said hoarsely.

"Solace, look at me," he demanded. Solace swallowed the rocks in her throat and finally peered over at him. Sage looked unequivocally pained. "I don't want to ask you for much, but please look over them."

"Sage," she whispered, her voice cracking.

He attempted an encouraging smile. He failed. "Promise me."

His words were almost faraway. Solace could not pay attention, too busy squinting at the piece of red sticking out beneath a pile of bubble wrap behind Sage.

"Are you listening to me?"

Solace shook her head, stumbling over the waste to get to his side, water bottles slipping over the sole of her shoes. "Look, right there!" she called out, falling to her knees, and seizing the red tube. She ran a finger over her initials.

Sage uncapped the tube, glancing inside to find the Servus Autem Fortuna neatly curled inside.

Solace grinned at him. "I told you we would find it."

***

Author's Note:

I am officially done writing SIAAF, so there will be updates on Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday! For the epilogue, I decided to go with my original idea, but I'll try to almost combine the two. It's more of a bitter-sweet ending, but I think you'll like it!!

I'm going to start planning and writing The Emerald Tapes today hopefully! Maybe I'll be able to start posting in March, rather than April.

Have a great weekend!

Until next time - m.k.t