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| Dead Men Walking | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (70,903 Views) | |
| DoctorYerishi | Aug 31 2015, 12:05 AM Post #2596 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Emmett didn’t flinch at the red mist the biker left behind. He just ducked back into the cab and ejected the magazine, and went about replacing it as quickly as he could, and as calmly as he could – which was perfectly calm. It was a righteous calm. A tranquil fury. After losing Jen – such a good person, such a positive person, someone who refused to be brought down by the horror around her, someone who was actively fighting for life and love – he couldn’t find any reason to be conflicted. * * * “Get down!” Annie heard herself say. In her mind, she was lost to her shock – not Jen she thought over and over, not her, please not her – but the words escaped her lips anyway. She thought she had been frozen in place by the horror, as well, but that wasn’t the case either. She crawled to Connor and Kelsey and forced them to the ground. “Stay down!” she said, as reality slammed back into focus. “Whatever you do, stay down!” * * * Darren’s stolen Honda led the convoy, and Eli wished it didn’t. The thought railed against his survival instincts, but he still wished they were behind the others, in the thickest of the fight. He wanted to tell Darren to slow down. He might have, if he thought he would listen. Instead, Eli holstered the Supergrade, and equipped his AR15. The sunroof was still open from before, so it took him hardly any time to pop out of it like a gunner on the world’s flimsiest tank. At the speed they were going, wind whipped at him violently, stinging his skin, blowing his jacket around like a flag. He ignored it – welcomed it, even – and aimed down the road. Past the minivan, past the truck, at the blinding lights of one of the police cars in one of the outer lanes. BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG! |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Aug 31 2015, 01:40 AM Post #2597 |
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Is that so?
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Willow accepted the BAR from Brandon and placed her Ruger Gunsite aside. It was a good gun, a great gun, but this situation was not a good one for a single shot, bolt action rifle. A heavy machine gun on the other hand... she didn't need to be all there for that. She propped the gun on the backrest like she had the sniper rifle, braced her back against the seat behind her, and then pulled the trigger. RATATATATATATA! The thunder of a BAR at full auto drowned out all other gunfire. And its wrath was pointed directly at one of the police cars. * * * * * The targeted gunfire seemed to work. Nolan couldn't see who was firing, but a bunch of bullets ripped apart the outside police car. They tore through the windshield and the hood of the car. The engine of the police car actually caught on fire as it veered off the road. It was going so fast that it hit a rocky outcrop and flipped over magnificently before sliding to a stop. Whoever was in there was definitely not coming back anytime soon. VOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! VOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! They were on a straightaway now with a slight decline. The road was narrow and that was their saving grace right now, but the 18-wheeler was making its move toward the front now. They were going to go for the brute for approach. But before it could arrive, the last police car on their immediate tail returned fire. A moment later, an explosion rocked the truck and they started losing speed quickly. "We lost a tire!" Antonio shouted while trying to regain control of the truck. Shit! Not now! Nolan screamed mentally. WHY NOW!? He popped from his cover and pumped a few shells into the windshield of the police car. Emmett gave him a hand as well. For whatever reason, police cars were not equipped with bullet resistant glass. Since he and Emmett had the high ground on them and there was no covering fire, their bullets were easily able to tear through the windshield and into the cab. The second police car rolled to a stop as its driver and passenger were pelted with gunfire that they had no chance of hiding from. Of course, that strategy worked fine for a police car, but the roles would be reversed if that 18-wheeler with a snow plow on it got too close. "What are we gonna do about that 18-wheeler!?" Nolan asked Emmett. "We can't outrun it!" |
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| DoctorYerishi | Aug 31 2015, 02:11 AM Post #2598 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Emmett stayed level, even as the tire popped and the truck started dragging. Even as the massive battering-ram-on-wheels started clearing the distance. It seemed to him the answer to Nolan’s question was obvious. If they couldn’t it outrun it, they had to take it out. The next question was a little harder to answer. Until he turned around and saw the red portable gas cans they had gathered a couple days back. They were still bundled in the back of Antonio’s truck, ready and waiting to be used. Miraculously, most seemed to still be in one piece. As far as Emmett could see, only one had taken a bullet and sprung a leak. He’d toss that one first. The back window was large enough for Emmett to crawl through. The shattered glass made it dangerous, but Emmett’s jeans, his leather jacket and his gloves made that a non-issue. The bigger issue was his injury, which made crawling painful. He did it anyway. He reclined his seat as far as it would go, then started agonizingly low-crawling his way over it and into the truck’s bed. He left ‘I have an idea’ unsaid. The idea itself – Light ‘em up, essentially – also went without being vocalised. “Cover me,” he groaned. That, however, needed to be said. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Aug 31 2015, 03:23 AM Post #2599 |
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Is that so?
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"What the fuck...?" Willow paused -- though she could barely hear herself talk over her own ringing ears. The 18-wheeler was still carrying a trailer with it. And she thought she saw something on top of it. She placed the BAR between herself and Brandon and took hold of her Ruger once again. She lined up the sights and set them on top of the trailer. Sure enough, there was something off here. The trailer had a makeshift bunker literally welded on top of it. A ladder along the side of the trailer served as their transportation up there. That meant there were undoubtedly some armed goons who had the high ground on them already. With the mounted snow plow blocking gunfire aimed toward the engine and a high windshield providing fewer opportunities to hit the passengers, this was going to be a difficult beast to take down. VOOOOM! VOOOOOOOOOOM! It continued to brazenly announce its approach. * * * * * "You are a crazy bastard." When Emmett reached for the gasoline, Nolan realized that he planning on taking advantage of the gasoline to ward off the 18-wheeler, maybe even destroy it. The idea had seemed so outrageous that Nolan hadn't even considered it as a viable idea. After all, it was crazy. But Emmett was mad too. His blood must be boiling over the loss of Jen as well. God dammit. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Aug 31 2015, 03:58 AM Post #2600 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Emmett reached the bed, grabbed the broken gas can, and struggled to get onto his knees. Antonio had slowed down the truck – the blown tire had left him no choice – but he was still hauling ass, to put it indelicately. Without the cage around him, Emmett felt unsafe. Unsafe was putting it lightly, actually. He felt like he could spill onto the road any second and become just a stain. It was frightening – kind of like his first time on a motorcycle, only times 100. He gritted his teeth and put his muscle into his throw. The gas can bounced off the windshield of the massive vehicle, spilling gasoline as it arced through the air. Emmett ignored the blaring of the horn – at this speed, the wind was just as loud. It was all just noise now. Even the gunfire. He couldn’t let it alter his path. BANGBANGBANG! Bullets sped past his body. He turned and saw chunks had been taken out of the rails to the truck. Then he looked up, trying to retrace their path. He realized that Green River’s people weren’t just in the 18-wheeler, they were on top of it as well. He ducked. The walls of the truck bed didn’t make good cover, but they were all he had. |
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| Strompy | Aug 31 2015, 10:03 AM Post #2601 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"Suppressing fire!" Brandon yelled as he opened fire at the assailants on top of the trailer. He didn't need to kill them, just make it hazardous to poke their heads up. Emmett was up to something with one of the gas cans. "Annie, I need reloads!" he continued as he placed a fresh magazine in. He tossed his spent one as well as the bag with the 5.56 rounds over the seat for her. As he looked back briefly he noticed they were coming up on a bend. That could give them a shot at something vital. "Willow, we need you to hit their gas tank when you get an angle!" he yelled over the din. If Emmett was planning on torching them, a gas leak from that tank would seal the deal. With the wreckage blocking the road that could buy them a little time to think about what they were going to do about the humvee and its .50 cal. It was a tricky shot to put it exceedingly mildly and the window for that shot was brief, they had until the road straightened out again. If there was anyone there who could pull it off though it was Willow. Brandon continued sending bullets down the road at the bunker on top of the trailer. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Aug 31 2015, 12:35 PM Post #2602 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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“Right, uh, okay,” Annie stammered a little at Brandon’s order, as she tried to reclaim her bearings. Connor tried to look up. Annie immediately caught him, pushing his head back down. “Stay down,” she repeated, more forcefully. She couldn’t let the pressure get to her. Just like surgery, she told herself, the same as she did back in Chicago. That had been during a fight with rotters, not people, but the principle was the same. Mourn later. Act now. Staying low, she fumbled with the spent magazine, loading the rounds in nervously at first, then picking up speed as she gained confidence. * * * BANGBANGBANG! Eli grimaced. There was a goddamn bunker on the top of that monstrosity. He saw a shooter with a bald head lean over the cover, he was one of a few of the thugs stationed there. Eli shot right back at him. He missed – Darren had turned slightly, as if aiming wasn’t hard enough at this speed – but the shooter ducked anyway. “Keep it steady!” Eli screamed over the wind that was shrieking in his ears. * * * When there was a break in the gunfire, Emmett emerged from his cover, such as it was. He grabbed another one of the gas cans and wrenched off the lid. He didn’t let fear make him hesitate. He swung it forward, splashing it over the snow plow and the hood of the 18-wheeler. He rocked a little in place, and then swung the can again. More gas flew out, higher this time, crashing onto the windshield. The 18-wheeler was gaining on the truck, though. Emmett pulled back, about to swing the can a third time, when the plow tapped the rear of Antonio’s truck. The impact knocked Emmett from his knees to his back, and sent him rolling down the bed of the truck, stopping when his shoulder slammed into the guard at the rear of the truck’s bed. He was so close to the 18-wheeler now, all he could hear was the intense roar of its engine. All he could smell was gasoline. The crash had spilled some on his jacket, and more on the bed of the truck. Wincing from the pain and the frustration, Emmett recovered, then hurled the can as hard as he could at the 18-wheeler’s windshield. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Aug 31 2015, 01:43 PM Post #2603 |
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Is that so?
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"I'm trying!" Darren retorted. This car had seen far better days already. And not only that, Darren was a little panicked and driving faster than he was used to. To say he was out of his element here would be an understatement. Being shot at was one thing, but knowing that there was a 50 cal in the fight made everything that much more bone chilling. Darren steeled himself and tried to keep the car better steadied. The straightaway would be turning soon. He could see it coming up ahead. Then he heard gunfire start hitting the car and he instinctively ducked his head down. Those guys in the bunker were returning fire! * * * * * The truck lurched as the 18-wheeler caught up to them and started trying to force them off the road. Antonio grimaced somberly. Nolan was behind him, shooting off that shotgun and giving Emmett some covering fire. All Antonio could do was try to keep the truck moving forward. VOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! VOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! The truck blared its horn again and rammed into the truck a second time. Antonio floored the accelerator as hard as he could and watched sparks start sailing from the back left tire of the truck as the last of the rubber was finally eaten away. * * * * * "Dammit." Willow grumbled. Hitting the gas tank? On a good day, she could have pulled it off, but today was hardly a good day. Of course, that was nobody's damn fault but her own. She could barely see what she was shooting at through those headlights. Not just headlights, they were using their high beams. Again, Willow switched out the Ruger for the BAR and propped herself against the seat. RATATATATATA! She fired a spray of bullets towards the bunker on top of the truck. They weren't turning yet, so she had no shots at the gas tanks that she could exploit. Her only goal now was just buying time for everyone else. Maybe it's a good thing I took all these drugs. My back would be killing me right now. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Aug 31 2015, 02:35 PM Post #2604 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Annie kept reloading. “Mom, I can help,” Connor said, startling her. “I can shoot!” Annie shook her head, just as she finished topping off the magazine. She left it within Brandon’s reach. “Just stay down!” she said, for the third time. * * * Eli had to duck back into the car as return fire blasted out around him. At least they’re aiming at me, he figured, and not the truck. He poked his head out again, looking through the sights of his AR. He could see now that the truck was in bad shape. He frowned, unsure of what he could do to help. He could keep providing covering fire, he realized. At this point, it seemed that was about it. BANGBANGBANG! * * * Emmett lost his balance once again when the truck was rammed. He grunted in pain as his back hit the bed of the truck for a second time. He had to wonder how much more the truck could take. He had to wonder how much more he could take. He summoned as much determination and grit as he could muster. With one hand, he grabbed the handle of a third gas can. With the other, he gripped the railing on the truck. He roared as he climbed to his feet, struggling mightily to keep balance. He swung yet again. More gasoline splattered across the hood and the windshield. It was soaked now. Somehow, they just needed to get it to ignite. |
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| Strompy | Aug 31 2015, 06:21 PM Post #2605 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"Shit." Brandon said quietly as it dawned on him they'd need something to ignite the gas. They couldn't just use a lighter in these winds, and bullets only worked in action movies. "Emily! Have you got any road flares?" he yelled back her. She was scavenging cop gear for a week they had all kinds of kit. Road flares would have been a useful distraction for dealing with rotters, she might have grabbed some. "Left side pocket!" she yelled in answer. Brandon scrambled for her bag, keeping low to stay out of Willow's line of fire. He unzipped the pocket and grinned triumphantly as he saw three road flares. He grabbed one and made his way to the window. "EMMETT!" he shouted over the sounds of gunfire and the wind. He held up the flare for Emmett to see and tossed it too him. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Aug 31 2015, 06:40 PM Post #2606 |
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Is that so?
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"Shit!" Nolan cursed. Antonio had managed to pull away from the 18-wheeler briefly, but the giant truck quickly managed to close the meager gap between them again. The truck lurched violently against the triangular shaped plow. This time, he couldn't get away, even as the truck continued to put pressure on them and alter the truck's direction. "I'm losing control!" Antonio roared, though Nolan could barely hear him over the whipping of the wind. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Aug 31 2015, 08:00 PM Post #2607 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Emmett could barely hear his name – but barely was enough. He turned to see a thin canister arcing its way through the air. He stood and reached out, wrapping his fingers around it, grabbing it even as the truck bounced and shook from the force of being literally ploughed. He landed on his stomach with another pained grunt, the flare in hand. With his other hand, he twisted the cap off. He crawled to his knees before holding the flare out and striking it against the coarse surface of the cap. Nothing happened, so he did it again. He frowned. His tranquility was wavering. He rubbed the flare again and… Bingo. Ignited, molten material shot out. The flare lit like a 14 inch match. The truck kept shaking and bouncing. Any second now, he expected Antonio to really lose control, and for them all to go rolling violently to their deaths. But if that happened, they weren’t going alone. Emmett threw the flare. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Aug 31 2015, 09:09 PM Post #2608 |
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Is that so?
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Willow's eyes widened as the entire front of the 18-wheeler burst into flames after contact with Emmett's flare. It was like watching something straight out of a horror film trying to rush you down on a dark freeway. But the flames alone were not enough to bring it to a stop yet. Despite the chassis of the big rig turning black and melting, the 18-wheeler remained on the war path. Even as Antonio's truck was knocked by the wayside and off the road. "NO!" Willow shouted. Not again. NOT AGAIN! RATATATATA! She sprayed the last few remaining rounds of the BAR at the truck's exposed fuel tank. She couldn't tell if she hit it, but she was pretty sure that she had. With the fire blazing on top of it now, it was only a matter of time before the fuel tanks were detonated anyway. That would stop it once and for all! * * * * * Cory smirked as the truck was taken off the road. They had somehow managed to catch their battering ram on fire, but there was still some life left in that old truck. Cory and the remaining militia were hiding behind it, using it as a bullet shield. It was clear after sending the first wave up that these people still had some fight left in them, so there was no point in sacrificing resources when they had a battering ram to do the job for them. "One of you police cars swing back around and check that crash for survivors. Make sure they don't come back." Cory commanded coldly into the radio. Normally he would have them taken prisoner, but it was prisoners that had gotten him into this mess. And while he enjoyed it, he made a mental note to make the process more efficient upon his return. So that breakouts like this were all but impossible. The jerry rigged system they had now was no longer acceptable. "We got it." A female voice responded to him. One of the police cars then slowed down and made a U-turn. It headed back to the crash. * * * * * Nolan groaned. He had blacked out there for a moment. The last thing he remembered was being smashed against the wall as the truck went off road. Now he found himself laying on his back, looking up at the stars. His body hurt and he could feel something wet on his face around his left eye. Blood. Thankfully, apart from some cuts and bruises, he seemed to be mostly intact. He slowly pushed himself upright, cringing at the effort that it took, but more glad to be alive than anything. But that thankfulness faded when he saw the truck. It was flipped up on its side about ten feet off the road. It was twisted, beaten, scratched, and riddled with bullet holes. "Emmett?" Nolan called out weakly. "Antonio?" Then a car pulled at the side of the road near the truck. That was almost certainly nobody he knew. Shit! He frantically started to look around for the shotgun or any weapon he could use to defend himself. |
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| Strompy | Aug 31 2015, 10:53 PM Post #2609 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"God damn it!" Brandon muttered angrily. Antonio, Emmett and Nolan were in that truck. They may have just lost all of them too. There wasn't a chance to dwell on that however. That monster was going to be baring down on them now. "Emily. We don't want to close to that thing." he called out unhelpfully. "I'm literally flooring it, Brandon! We can't go faster, make them go slower!" she barked back. He'd go for the tires if he could get an angle on them. With that big ass plow in the way that impossible from there, and they'd just come up on a straight. On a straight that thing's powerful engine could push it fast enough to catch up to them. "Fuck. Cover me!" he shouted before smashing out one of the side windows. He handed his carbine to Annie and took up the pistol he took from the man he killed. He winced as he crawled through to window, his chest and lower abdomen flared up again and his head swam a little as endorphins and adrenaline flooded his system. His legs stayed insise the van as he sat on the window sill. One hand held on for dear life while the other gripped the pistol firmly. He needlessly closed his left eye as he took aim. From this vantage he could get an okay shot on the driver's seat. Again, he didn't need to hit them, only scare them. He opened fire. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Aug 31 2015, 11:27 PM Post #2610 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Annie fumbled with the carbine. It felt foreign and uncomfortable in her hands, but she pushed past the feeling. She knew there wasn’t any time to argue. If they didn’t act, that burning monstrosity would catch up to them and maybe drag them to the hell it looked it came it from. Like it had done to Antonio, Nolan and Emmett – but she couldn’t think about that right now. Mourn later, she had to remind herself. She felt a tear welling up in her eye anyway. Act now. She aimed the out the back window and tried to do as Brandon asked – tried to cover him. BANG! “Mom!” Connor protested again. Annie held a hand out – a signal that meant ‘be quiet’ and, of course, ‘stay down.’ * * * One of the police cars had stopped. He thought that was odd for just a moment, but then he saw why – the priest’s truck was nearby, and turned to its side. Run off the road somehow. Maybe by that massive semi-trailer that was making all the infernal noise. He saw the driver’s side door open on the cop car. He pushed his foot down on his own pedal – it didn’t do much, he was already going as fast as he could, but it made him feel better. It pumped him up. He kept one hand on the steering wheel as he felt his seatbelt, making sure it was on and tight. Safety first, he told himself, and summoned a smile. One idiot started to emerged from the front seat of the cop car, probably to make sure the job was finished, and if not, to finish it himself. He didn’t make it all the way out, and he turned to see the Ram’s approach too late. There wasn’t time to get out of the way. Jimmy braced himself for the collision. Then his pimped out truck with the reinforced grille smashed into the cop car, crumpling it like a pop can. When the dust cleared – literally, the dust had to clear, this was a dusty road – Jimmy rolled his head around his neck, probing for signs of whiplash. He felt okay. He smiled again. He unbuckled his seat belt, drew his Desert Eagle, and hopped out the front seat. He raised it and approached the wrecked cop car. He aimed through the windows, at the dazed heads of its occupants. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Distasteful business, he thought. But oh well. Had to be done. He turned his attention to the crashed truck, looking – and hoping, truthfully – for survivors. He saw Nolan first, lying on his back. Nolan must have seen him too – and must have been alive – because his neck rotated and his eyes locked onto him. Bloodied up, but alive. “Hey kid,” Jimmy greeted. “That’s two you owe me now.” |
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7:28 PM Jul 10