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| Dead Men Walking | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (70,940 Views) | |
| Make-7-Up-Yours | Jul 9 2015, 03:04 AM Post #2041 |
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Is that so?
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The post was a little boring, but Jen understood the importance of what she was doing. People were assholes -- she had learned that at Flint. Keeping watch and being alert at all times was important. Willow had told her what happened to a friend of theirs, Mac, back at the New York-Canada border. Because they had been careless. When Eli put their newly acquired gas in the truck bed and sounded the call to pack up, Jen was quick to take the call. Since it was the closest available space, Jen carefully placed the high-powered rifle in the back of the truck alongside the gas cans after ensuring the safety was on. As she made her way back to the van afterwards, she waved down Willow who was just returning from the restroom looking relieved and holding a hand over her stomach. "Where's my rifle?" Willow furled her brow. "I put it away already." Jen assured her. "We got what we came here for, we're rolling out." |
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| DoctorYerishi | Jul 9 2015, 09:19 AM Post #2042 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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As they headed back the way they came, Eli was feeling a bit better. Re-supplying had gone off without a hitch. They had made it and out quickly and without complication. Even the rotter presence had been minimal and easily dealt with. The detour had been a success, no two ways about it. Eli could take some heart in that. Not too much heart, but some. “Glad we got that sorted out,” Annie said from behind him. She seemed even more pleased that her suggested course of action had worked out. “One less thing to worry about on the road west.” “One worry down, a million to go,” Eli remarked. He immediately felt a little bad about his pessimism getting the better of him. “But yeah – you’re right.” He kept driving. The road back to the interstate was parallel to a set of train tracks. At the end of town, one of the trains those tracks serviced was visible – for whatever reason, it had stalled out just before reaching Waverly, and never started back up again. Eli eyed the empty train cars on one side of him as he drove on. On the other side, he took note of an unlit sign with neon fringes. It was advertising a “fully nude” strip club and its hours. The club itself was right there – it looked more like a barn than anything else, only its walls painted bright pink gave an indication of its former purpose. Eli hated to think what kind of ladies would have worked there in the old days. He hated more to think about the clientele they served. There were a few cars in the expansive lot. Maybe some of them had never made it out. There were also cars on the road in front of him, blocking the way. Just like there were on the way there in the first place. He knew from earlier that he would have to drive through the grassy median between the two roads to get through. He looked away from the strip club’s abandoned exterior to concentrate on doing that. As he turned, he saw a flash movement and a glint of sunlight reflecting from metal. A wave of nausea undulated in his belly. It was a familiar feeling. He had slowed down to drive over the median. Behind him, Antonio in his truck had done the same. That made going backwards too awkward a proposition. Going right was out of the question as well – a train blocked their way. And behind the strip club to their left, a fence defended the property of a neighbouring auto action property. He could probably get through the fence. Probably. Probably wasn’t good enough. Beyond the obstruction was a car that wasn’t there before. Eli wouldn’t have known that for sure if two people didn’t rise from behind it, guns raised. Two living people, with their skin intact and their eyes bright with aggression. On the other side of the median, two more people appeared from behind cover they had obviously driven in recently. One was male, tall and Hispanic, with prominent acne scars. The other was a head shorter and female, with jet black hair and brown-skinned like some Hawaiians Eli used to know. They both wielded assault rifles. They looked comfortable wielding them. “Stop or we shoot!” someone said, and Eli’s eyes swivelled back to the first two people to pop up. The speaker was a woman. She was tough-looking but beautiful, even in the man’s trench-coat hanging from her shoulders. She was brown as well – but Central American brown, Eli was attuned to the difference. Her eyes were hard and sharp as flint. Her voice equally so. Eli believed she meant what she said. There was a rumble of a motorcycle engine. Again, Eli’s eyes darted to investigate. He found it was actually two motorcycles. They rolled out from behind the strip club. One had a rider and a passenger on the back, and the passenger carried an Uzi much like Jen’s. Eli wanted to gun it – just press his foot down and burn through them, like a bat out of hell. Then he remembered Mac and the way his body collapsed lifelessly over his prized truck. He knew that if these people wanted to kill them, they could have started already. Like the men at the Peace Bridge, they were probably bandits. They probably wanted their stuff, not their lives. He had to ask himself if it was worth it – if keeping their supplies was worth seeing another body like Mac’s. He flashed back to seeing Glenda’s corpse and felt a taste of the rage that boiled his blood back then. He realized the answer was no. His fingers gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white, but he controlled himself and pressed the breaks, bringing the minivan to an abrupt stop. “No sudden movements!” It was the woman again, her voice just as firm. Her pistol was aimed directly at Eli. She started strafing around her cover, her spines straight, arms at near full extension with her shoulders locked. Her torso was steady, like a turret. She seemed like she knew what she was doing. She had probably even had training of some sort. The last thing Eli wanted to do was listen to her, but she had him dead to rights. He was sure if he drew his Supergrade or drove the car forward, there would be a bullet in him. So he didn’t. He did remove the pistol from his holster, however, and lay it gently on the front seat. His body was alight with nerves and frustration, but he summoned the presence of mind to manage that, at least. “Get out! Slowly!” she said, and kept strafing. The other three people out in front were doing similar, as the motorcycle riders pulled up on the grass to their left. Their aim rotated from the back windows of the minivan to the windshield of Antonio’s truck. Slowly and subtly, Eli picked up the Supergrade from his seat. He nodded and raised his other empty hand so the woman could see, then reached for the doorknob. Out of sight, he pulled back his jeans and underwear with his forefinger. With his thumb, he made sure the safety was clicked on, and then dropped the gun in there. Under Brandon’s careful supervision, he had just cleaned it last night. He wasn’t sure if that was for better or worse. “Just do as she says,” Eli ordered his passengers, his voice achieving a remarkable calm, given the circumstances. |
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| Strompy | Jul 9 2015, 10:32 AM Post #2043 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"Are you fucking kidding me?" Brandon complained even as he complied while flipping the bird at the woman in the coat. It was getting to the point where it almost didn't even make him mad anymore. He was just tired of this. How many times did they have to go through this? Why was it the majority of people they ran into had abandoned the concept of civilization at the drop of a hat? Why couldn't these people just leave them alone? Brandon wanted to wipe them out, he despised them. They'd risked their lives for these supplies, it wasn't much but it was theirs. these people had no right. They could get their own supplies, this town was barely even touched by the look of it. It was cowardice and nothing else. He was also angry they hadn't seen any of this. So much for their vigilance, they'd let somebody get the drop on them again. Brandon was ready to kill. "Were you pieces of shit before or is this all new to you?" he asked the speaker. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Jul 9 2015, 11:02 AM Post #2044 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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“See this thing in my hands?” The woman held the gun steady on Eli. Her pockmarked ally was covering Brandon. “That means you should watch your tone. Keep moving.” Eli stopped a few paces away from the van. He pressed his hands to his head. He kept thinking about Mac, and how all it took was one scared kid getting frightened. These guys didn’t look like kids, and they didn’t look scared. The principle remained the same, however. He glanced around to see Brandon and Willow had made it out of the middle seats, and Jen the passengers. Annie was now coaxing Connor out the back. Poor kid looked terrified. “Hey, eyes up front,” the woman said, obviously to him. “Don’t get any ideas.” He faced forward like she asked and tried to look humble and non-threatening. The way his face naturally was, it was a hard look for him to pull off. “No ideas here,” he said, hoping that added to the effect. “Keep it that way,” she responded. The gun didn’t move. Eli was just as sure that if he went for it, she would gun him down. “Tina, Jules – collect the other's weapons. I got the gangbanger.” Eli winced a little at the term, but didn’t object verbally. Her tone wasn’t offensive, anyway. In fact, it kind of reminded him of Jimmy. If the circumstances were just a little different, he would have even considered it flirtatious. “Lift your shirt,” she said, and waved the barrel of her gun a little up and down. Again – any other circumstance. He did as she asked, revealing his police belt, with his ka-bar and baton and much of his spare ammo. Her lips curled into a smirk. She removed one hand from her weapon and advanced. Her aim lowered. “You want two rounds to the gut?” she asked. Eli shook his head. “Then trust me when I say this – keep your hands where they are.” She kept looking him square in the eye. With one hand, she aimed her pistol – a Beretta, Eli could identify it now that it was so close. With the other hand, she reached out to his side and started unbuckling his belt. Nearby, the taller man and the shorter woman – Jules and Tina, apparently – started confiscating the weapons the others had on them. Jules started with Brandon. Tina with Willow. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Jul 9 2015, 01:10 PM Post #2045 |
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Is that so?
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Although she would have liked to, Willow was a little too scared to go making wise ass quips towards these guys. Her heart was pounding and her general anxiety was rising. Understandably so, considering some punks had them held up. And any one of these punks you met on the road could be unpredictable. So she simply stood there quietly, with her hands raised. The only things Willow had on her person were the FNP and the Glenda's knife, the one Brandon had just finished working on for her. Willow visibly flinched and curled her hands into fists as the woman on her removed the blade from her waist. That had belonged to her friend and was worked on by her boyfriend. They had no right to take that from her. But it wasn't like she could protest their actions. This was kind of the point of a holdup. "You are treading down a dangerous path, turning against your fellow man so readily." She heard Antonio lecture the bandits nearest him. "Nothing awaits you at the end of this except for pain and regret. Please, reconsider and repent for your sins and be forgiven. It is never too late." |
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| Strompy | Jul 9 2015, 02:20 PM Post #2046 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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If only they knew what they were doing. If they knew how dangerous they were. How many people just like them they'd killed. If they only knew the people they were robbing were their last hope. These cowards. "We've got a priest and a kid and they still rob us. I wouldn't waste my breath trying to talk sense into them, father. We've dealt with their kind before. They're cowards. They don't have what it takes to do what we do. Put them on the other end of a gun and they'd show you exactly what I mean. Are you all too afraid of rotters to find your own stuff? I bet you ran and left friends to be eaten, didn't you? You let people you know die because you were scared didn't you, Crater-face?" Brandon demanded of the pockmarked man behind him. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Jul 9 2015, 03:29 PM Post #2047 |
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Is that so?
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"Is now really the best time for this?" Willow growled in annoyance. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Jul 9 2015, 07:28 PM Post #2048 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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The woman’s hand was still on Eli’s belt, and her gun still trained on his belly. “You’re not such a good listener, are you, pretty boy?” she asked Brandon. She finished with the belt, pulling it through its loops and off of him. Her eyes didn’t move from Eli as she held it back for the fourth of her partners to take. “Empty holster,” she said matter-of-factly, though Eli took it as a question. “Gun’s in the back,” he replied, his voice still calm. “I don’t like to drive with it.” He thought he sounded convincing, and there certainly were enough pistols in the back that the lie would seem plausible. “We’ll see,” the woman said. She nodded to the ally she handed his belt too. He leaned through the open door and into the front seat, and felt around for the lever for the trunk. Once it was open, he went to investigate. Meanwhile, Tina was about ready to move on. First, though, she applied pressure to the back of Willow’s knee, forcing her to bend. “On your stomach,” she ordered in a clipped accent, holding her rifle to the back of Willow’s head with both hands now. Eli spared the briefest of glances over his shoulders to see the Jules guy finish robbing Brandon. He circled around him – then delivered a sudden punch to his solar plexus, doubling him over. “You too,” he said. “And shut the fuck up. You don’t want us to ask a third time.” One of the bike riders – the one riding alone – approached Antonio. Eli spared another brief glance to see that, and then turned back to the woman holding the gun to him. Once again, she was staring straight at him and addressing someone else. “Kid’s right about one thing, padre,” she said. “Don’t need a sermon. Just stay cool and we’ll be a memory in no time.” She paused for a moment. Her gaze drifted up and down Eli. “I’m assuming you’re the leader,” she said. He assumed she was talking to him again. “Might want to remind your people it’s a good idea to listen to me.” “Listen to her,” Eli said dryly. She smirked again. “What’s your name?” “Eli,” he said. He didn’t see a reason to lie or be uncooperative. Not while she still had him so firmly in her gunsights. “Yours?” “Wendy,” she said. “Not that you’re gonna need it. Like I –” POP! Eli blinked hard and spun around. The blood in his veins heated up at what he saw – Emmett, clutching a red wound at the side of his stomach, hunched over a few feet away from the passenger’s side of Antonio’s truck. Eli’s head instantly swivelled, searching for the source of the shot. It hadn’t come from any of the robbers in the near vicinity, he could tell that much. Quickly, he saw a figure shrouded in the shadow of the train cars, and the outline of their rifle. Fuck. Eli’s outrage threatened to explode out of him. The same pure anger that gripped him on the Peace Bridge – and then again after finding Glenda’s body – demanded release. It took every ounce of restraint Eli was capable of to hold it back. He raised his hands high and turned around to face his companions. He half expected the woman – Wendy – to light up his back. Unexpected gunshots had a tendency to lead to more of the same. “Don’t – don’t shoot!” he pleaded, to his own group more than their captors. He didn’t want Jen, Annie or Antonio drawing unexpectedly. Willow and Brandon couldn’t – their weapons were in someone else’s hands – but they might have tried something else, and that would be just as disastrous. No one fired. An extremely tense moment faded back to just a very tense one. Eli still didn’t feel any gunshots thud into his back, thankfully. Instead, he felt a foot plant into his knee, forcing him off his feet. “Smart move,” Wendy said, talking down into his ear. “Moe’s a good shot. Your friend’ll probably be okay, but if he tries anything else, he won’t be.” “Jesus Christ,” another one of the robber’s said, now that it was clear a firefight wasn’t breaking out. He the one with the Uzi, riding on the pillion of one of the motorcycles. He jumped off it now and ran to cover Emmett at a closer distance. “I took my eyes off him for one second, and he was moving. Good thing Moe was watching.” As Wendy forced Eli onto his stomach at gunpoint, he felt his Supergrade press into his thigh. It was an uncomfortable but welcome reminder that this wasn’t over. Not by a fuckin’ long shot. Emmett was alive, though. He could see that from where he was laying. He was gripping the wound in his side tight, and it was bleeding into his hand, but the blood wasn’t excessive. Eli was pretty sure he had seen people walk away from worse, and those people weren’t even half as indomitable as Emmett. That thought tempered his anger, just a bit. The truth was, he understood Emmett’s impulse. He had the same one at the Peace Bridge. It hadn’t worked then. His group had killed a few of the border bandits, but they had suffered just as many bullet holes and broken bones in return, and they ended up losing one of their vehicles anyway. Eli wouldn’t let himself repeat that mistake. They had to play it differently this time. “Everyone else!” Wendy declared from above him. “Bellies on the ground, won’t say it again.” |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Jul 9 2015, 07:57 PM Post #2049 |
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Is that so?
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Antonio jumped instinctively as the loud crack of a gunshot surprised him. Emmett doubled over from a single shot. Antonio frowned. He was not mad, but he was clearly disappointed that humanity had fallen to such pitiful degrees. While Emmett would be okay, these people were truly almost no better than the fallen. While Antonio would not fight to kill, he would have no qualms with incapacitating if need be. But if he were to try anything, it could mean the deaths of his companions. And that was something he would not accept. Nearby, Willow and Brandon were already at gunpoint on the ground. Jen crawled onto her belly as well with a disgusted sneer that Antonio could understand. "It is not our judgement that you need to worry about." Antonio simply said as he complied with the orders and fell onto his stomach as well. |
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| Strompy | Jul 9 2015, 09:46 PM Post #2050 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"I called it." Brandon confirmed confidently. Brandon went through his options. There weren't many. They couldn't let these people take their things. If they did, then they'd have to hunt them down again and take their things back. Their weapons were too precious to just let go, and these assholes would keep them. If he could get one of them within range he could take their leg out, get his hands on their weapon and take them hostage, gain some leverage or at the very least give the others an opening to make a move. Eli still had that piece. If Eli could take Wendy hostage then they'd have a lot more bargaining power. The pockmarked guy had responded negatively to his goading as he'd hoped. There was no way they'd shoot him for mouthing off but they might hit him. This guy already had. He might be the weak link. At worst, they'd ignore Brandon or hit him, and getting close enough to hit him was what he wanted. "Who was it, beautiful? Was it your woman? Your man maybe? Best friend, lover, what? Who did you let die because you're a yellow piece of shit? Or didn't you have anyone in the first place because you're a fuck up?" |
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| DoctorYerishi | Jul 9 2015, 11:06 PM Post #2051 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Wendy patted Eli down quickly, feeling around his ankles in particular for a gun or knife he might have strapped there. She found nothing. The piece he did have was safely tucked away, right near his other… piece. Nearby, everyone else got the same treatment. Eli watched. Brandon was heckling one of them, and it looked like he was doing a good job. The man was frowning severely. Then he pointed his pistol at Brandon’s head. Eli’s heart went cold. BANG! “You didn’t want us asking a third time,” Jules said, sneering. “Tried to tell you.” Eli was ready to reach into his pants and fuck the consequences. He was ready to take out Jules and as many of the other sons and daughters of bitches as he could. Then he realized Brandon was okay. The bullet landed slightly left of his cheek and buried itself in the road. “Enjoy the headache, asshole,” Jules added, backing away. “Looks like your whole gang’s got a listening problem,” Wendy said, quiet enough for Eli’s ears only. Then she raised her voice. “Padre, one last time – sermons to yourself.” Eli let out a long and protracted sigh. It wasn’t total relief – the situation was still fucked – but they were all still alive, and only Emmett had a bullet hole to contend with. “How’s it looking?” Wendy asked. The question wasn’t directed to Eli, but to the goon she had looking through the back of the van. “Good,” the goon said, and Eli could almost hear his smile. “Real good.” All their bulkier weapons were back there. So was the majority of their food and drink. Then there was everyone’s packs. Shit. Everyone’s packs. “Take it,” Eli said, risking the disobedience. “Take all of it. Take the van – just leave me my bag.” “You giving me orders, soldier?” Wendy remarked, looking down at him again. “I’m asking you,” Eli said. He had to suppress his anger deep down to say the next word. “Please.” There was a moment of silence as Wendy seemed to consider that. At least, Eli hoped that’s what was happening. All he could hear, besides Emmett’s stoic groans of pain, was the moaning of rotters, drawn in from somewhere nearby by the gunshot. “Which one’s yours?” Wendy asked finally. The moans clearly didn’t concern. The big one, he told her. The goon reached into the trunk and pulled one out. Wendy described it and Eli shook his head. That was Annie’s. The next one was Jen’s. Finally, he found his and Wendy had it in her arms. The goon covered Eli’s prone form as Wendy leaned back against the van, cradling the bag as she sorted through it. “Clothes, clothes, scissors, tools – oh hey,” she said, and Eli was pretty sure what she found. “An’ what would this be?” “It’s a personal thing,” Eli responded from the ground. “Ashes of a friend of mine. This trip’s all about scattering them.” “Your friend’s ashes say ‘Do not open,’” Wendy responded, her tone highly doubtful. Eli looked up high enough to see her eyebrows raised. “That’s right.” She smirked again, and shoved the canister back into the bag – before dropping it onto the concrete by his face. “Fine,” she said. “Request granted.” “Please,” Annie’s voice literally pleaded out of nowhere. Eli turned on his chin to where she was laying on the ground, her arm around her shaking son. “My bag too.” “Enough,” Tina interrupted harshly in her accent, re-aiming her weapon at the doctor. “Please, I need it…” Annie disobeyed the order. “It has our medical supplies. You shot our friend.” “This group,” Wendy said disbelievingly, shaking her head. “You guys really know how to push it.” “He could die,” Annie kept pleading. Eli was surprised by her fortitude with a gun to her – and to her son’s – back. “Fuck!” Wendy said, her amused exasperation tipping over. “Fiiiine. But two wishes is all you get. Gorski – get the lady’s bag.” “Wendy,” one of the goons from the bikes said. Eli had to stare out the corner of his eye to see him. He was a doughy motherfucker with a scraggly beard. With his ratty jeans and hoodie-winter coat combo, he looked the most homeless of the group. “Gorski,” Wendy repeated more harshly. She clearly didn’t appreciate even the hint of the question in his tone. Gorski didn’t reply. He dragged himself to the van and found Annie’s bag. A look inside obviously confirmed it was the one with medicine, and he left it by Annie – who’s sigh of relief was evident to all. Wendy waved to Gorski again. “Now. Tires.” He nodded back, more satisfied with that order than the last. He turned and aimed his pistol at the truck. POW! POW! The air hissed as it evacuated from the tire’s front wheels, let go by a pair of bullet holes. Gorski casually walked around the truck to get a better shot at the back two. POW! POW! “So here’s the deal,” Wendy announced after the fourth hiss began. “You can keep that, and what’s inside, but it’s not going anywhere. We’re keeping everything else. Consider it taxes. Better yet – consider it a toll. You try and follow us, I think you know what happens.” Over the hissing, Eli could hear the moaning of rotters more clearly. A number of them were closing in. If he had to guess, he’d guess a dozen. They were probably still a couple minutes out. Wendy raised an arm and rotated her finger, a sign for everyone to roll out. She claimed the driver’s seat of the van. Jules entered on the passenger’s side. The others returned to their bikes and to the pair of vehicles they had used as roadblocks up ahead. The entire time, they kept their guns trained on Eli and his people. He waited patiently for a chance to strike but nothing came. “Nothing personal,” Wendy called out as she turned the key in the ignition. “Good luck!” Vroom! Vroom! The men on bikes revved the engines for an unnecessarily long time. Probably to make sure the rotters knew where to go. Just another way to make sure their victims were too busy to try and follow them. The thought made Eli furious. The other engines roared too, and the convoy started rolling off. When Wendy finally stopped aiming out the mirror, Eli jumped to his feet. The opportunity to strike was fading fast. It may have already gone. It may be too… Not all of their weapons were in the van, Eli remembered suddenly. He had overheard Jen talking with Willow that night. “Willow!” he screamed as he launched to his feet, and tore off as fast as he could after the thieves. Gorski on his motorcycle was trailing the minivan. His back was to them. Eli saw an opportunity. Maybe the only one available to them. “The guy on the bike!” he cried frantically. “Shoot him! Don’t kill him!” He kept running as his adrenaline skyrocketed. The frustration he’d been holding in that entire stick-up came exploding out. As he ran, he dug one hand into his pants, searching for his gun. He glanced behind him for just a moment. At least a dozen rotters were converging on the others. He couldn’t turn around to help. Wendy was getting away with their stuff. He couldn't let that happen. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Jul 10 2015, 01:20 AM Post #2052 |
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Is that so?
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As soon as Eli called her name, Willow burst to her feet and started sprinting towards the truck. Willow got the message loud and clear. Jen had told her that she threw the rifle in the back of the truck just a few minutes ago. These assholes may have stolen most of their weapons; but not all of them. They still had the one weapon that could give them a shot now. Willow practically jumped into the back of the truck, pain tearing through her body as she did. And she ignored it completely and went on to scoop the Ruger Gunsite off the bed of the truck and rest it on top of the cabin of the truck. She lowered her head and peered through the sight. They were retreating fast. It took her a moment to adjust the positioning, but she could see the man that Eli wanted her to take down, riding the motorcycle at the back of the pack. But they had already gained a considerable distance in the time it took Willow to get her rifle and fix the sights on him. The shot would be a hard one. And she had to make sure she didn't kill the guy so they could get the information they needed. If she missed the first shot, they would only get harder to hit as they tried dodging. Her first shot had to bring him down. It was the best chance that they had. But with a rifle this powerful, shooting the man himself was dangerous. If her aim was off even a little bit, she could give him a fatal wound. No pressure, right? Not gonna let the team down this time. Rotters were closing in around them quickly. She did her best to ignore them. The others would be safe. Willow focused on her eyes and her fingers. They were retreating in a straight line. She adjusted for distance by raising the rifle slightly. She adjusted for wind by aiming to the right. She didn't have time to plan everything out, she just had to follow her gut and hope her instinct could pull it off. It always had in the past. KA-BOOM! The boom of Willow's rifle was instantly followed by the back tire of the retreating motorcycle being blown out. Man and motorcycle both went down as he lost control of the now one-wheeled bike. She kept the sights fixed on them in case they came back or he tried to retreat on foot (should be somehow still be capable of that), but she couldn't resist a small celebration. "YES!" |
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| DoctorYerishi | Jul 10 2015, 01:45 AM Post #2053 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Wendy was smiling as she drove the van away. Julien was frowning, but he could be that way sometimes. She wasn’t going to let his moodiness get her down. Just because that kid had hit a nerve, didn’t mean the job had been any less a success. They had made it out with plenty of loot and they didn’t even have to kill anyone. “Cheer up, Jules,” she said, and gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder after holstering her Beretta. “This was…” The high powered rifle shot made her flinch. In the rear view, she saw Gorski’s bike skid away from him, and him start to roll across the road. She hit the brakes. In front of her, one of the decoy cars followed suit a few seconds later. The other had sped away to pick up Moe and was out of the fight, at least for now. The fight. Wendy’s pulse quickened, but she made sure to control her breathing. She was in combat mode now. She wasn’t sure how or how – didn’t we snatch all their fucking big guns? – but she knew it was no time to panic. Even before the tires finished skidding to their sudden stop, she pushed open her door. She started to lean out. BANG! BANG! BANG! A volley of shots shattered the window, and she had to recoil back in her seat and raise an arm to shield herself from the glass. She looked out from under it into the side mirror and saw – Eli!? He was dashing towards them at a frantic pace. He was a madman in both speed and demeanour. The calm and dry attitude from before was gone. The look on his face now was pure hate, and he was acting on that hate with a pistol. “Where the fuck did he get that thing!?” Julien asked incredulously, as he aimed over the seats and through the back window. Wendy had the same question. But she could live without the answer. She leaned out of her seat as the volley stopped, drawing and aiming her Beretta in one smooth motion. She fired through the broken window. BANG! BANG! Eli ducked and slowed down, but didn’t stop moving. He returned fire. BANG! The shot tore through the car door, just to the right of where Wendy was using it for cover. She ducked back inside again. Tina had emerged from the other car and taken a few strides towards the fight, towards Gorski – who was lying there still, as best Wendy could see. She didn’t think he was dead, but he might have been. The other motorcycle had taken longer to stop, and it was even further ahead than Tina. The riders – Turner and his boyfriend and passenger, Ray – looked increasingly alarmed beneath their helmets. Ray tapped Turner on the shoulder urgently anyway, and readied his Uzi. With a roar of the engine, their shared motorcycle turned around, and sped back towards the approaching Eli – who kept charging for Gorski. He was not goddamn stopping. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Jul 10 2015, 02:06 AM Post #2054 |
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Is that so?
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Click-click. In a motion that she had become far too adjusted to, Willow pulled the bolt, ejected the spent cartridge, and pushed the bolt back forward to load a new one. And it was good that she had gotten used to it, since it seemed like that crew was not about to let that transgression slide without a fight. And for once, it was a fight that Willow was ready to take. She was tired of these assholes thinking they could get away with whatever they pleased. No matter where they want, people were robbing and murdering others. They shot Emmett, they beat up her boyfriend, and then robbed them of almost everything they had. Willow was done with this. "Don't even fucking think about it!" She knew that Wendy and whatever the rest of them were named couldn't hear her. But Willow was getting into it. Now that there weren't guns pointed to her back, she could just let anger take over for fear. She could see the passenger in that motorcycle already raising his Uzi to mow down Eli. Which was not going to happen. KA-BOOM! Willow had been aiming for the chest of the driver of the second motorcycle since they technically only needed one of them alive should the others escape, but her rushed aim ensured the shot missed its target. Instead, it blew through his stomach. But the end result would still be the same. If he was lucky, he would die from the motorcycle crash. And if Willow was lucky, the shot went through him and killed the passenger too. Click-click. |
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| Strompy | Jul 10 2015, 02:46 AM Post #2055 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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They couldn't let these bastards leave with their stuff. They were killing them by leaving them like this. As much as Brandon wanted to hurt these guys, the only ting that really mattered was that they got their stuff back. He didn't want anything more than what they had taken from them. What the hell could he do? Eli was legging it for the motocyclist. Willow was about to ruin somebody elses day. What could he do? There were rotters all around them and those people were bringing themselves around for a fight. He ushered Annie and Connor behind the truck and grabbed a sizable rock off the ground. If any of the rotters got too close he could take them down even with that. It only reinforced how lazy these people were. |
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7:29 PM Jul 10