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| Dead Men Walking | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (70,859 Views) | |
| DoctorYerishi | Nov 7 2015, 05:57 AM Post #3256 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Patrick Callan – Brother Patrick, to everyone that mattered to him – forced himself to summon a strained smile when Antonio confronted him. The Catholic, he recognized him as. They had exchanged a few words back in Evanston. He had never had high hopes for him. From the look of consternation he was wearing now, it seemed like he was going to live down to his expectations. Another disappointment. There was a lot of that in this batch. “Everything’s fine,” he said, coming to a slow stop. His brother stopped alongside him. He struggled to maintain his smile as he turned to address them. “Go,” he said. “I’ll catch up.” There wasn’t any time to waste, he figured. There was no telling what kind of trouble Noah and Alma could stir up if they were left in the wind. Besides, he could handle this old guy on his own. As his two men continued on at a brisk pace, Patrick turned back to Antonio. “Actually, can I speak with you for a moment, friend?” he asked. “Inside?” With one hand, he gestured towards the room Antonio had poked his head out of. His other hand he hid behind his back, as he reached for the needle he intended to use on Noah. * * * Eli woke from the sound of gunshots in his mind to the sound of gunshots in real life. He saw Evan’s face, Cory’s face, Darren’s face – even Jen’s undead face – and then his eyes bolted open and he saw his own face, reflected in the window of his cell door. He had to wonder if he was still dreaming. He got up from his uncomfortable resting place and wandered over to the window. With every step, he was more sure he was awake, and his concern grew. Why the fuck were there gunshots? he had to ask himself. What the fuck is going on out there? * * * Noah barged into the shop, wielding a SIG Sauer P226 he had recovered from the broken body of the guard he had run down. He had whimpered in pain as Noah sorted through his pockets, and Noah had cringed his way through finishing him off with his blade – it seemed like the merciful thing at the time. There was one more guard waiting in the lobby – Noah locked on him a second after he had already locked on Noah. BANG! BANG! BANG! He fired a pistol from behind a desk he had already turned over. He must have heard the gunshots outside, maybe even seen some of the action through the glass door. He was ready for them. But either Noah was lucky – which he knew he wasn’t – or this guy was unlucky – which seemed much more true – because his shots zoomed past Noah’s shoulder and shattered the glass door behind him. BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! Noah returned fire. BANG! BANG! Alma was behind him – she had taken stock of the situation remarkably fast and had joined him in returning the volley. There was a spray of blood and the guard disappeared behind his cover. “Finish him!” Alma roared, keeping her left arm steady and aiming where the guard had disappeared. Noah didn’t want to – but again, he reminded himself, the situation had spiralled too far out of control already. There was no going back. So he strafed around the room quickly, keeping his own gun ready. He found the guard lying on his back, his hands both around his throat. It turned out that’s where they had got him. He was having trouble keeping his blood from spilling out entirely. He got closer, and then looked away just as the man tried to meet his gaze. BANG! He finished him off. Again, it seemed like a mercy. He looked at the man’s head to make sure it was done, and found himself staring into the hole. “Cover the door!” Alma issued another order as she rushed to Lowell’s cell door. Noah shook himself out of his very brief daze and did as she asked. He swivelled and raised his gun, told himself to be ready for any intruders. He heard Alma turn the lock and open the door. He spared only a brief glance at Lowell as he emerged – his hair was a mess, his eyes were red, he was sweaty. “What are you… how…” he stammered. “No time,” Alma said. “We gotta go.” Noah spared another brief glance their way in time to see Alma hand over another gun – more loot from the corpses they had made in the parking lot. She handed him a spare magazine while she was at it. “You good?” Alma asked. It took him a moment to respond. Noah kept his eyes on the door for a second, shifting in place nervously. When he finally spared one last glance, he saw Lowell open his eyes and give Alma a determined nod. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he said. Noah was about to do just that, but he was frozen in place by a sudden banging on a door behind him. He looked over his shoulder – as did Lowell and Alma – to see Eli’s sleep-deprived face through the window of his own cell door. He was banging his fists against the door desperately. His lips were moving. Noah had no idea what he was trying to say. “Come on!” Lowell prompted. Noah turned away, and they all headed back towards the door. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Nov 7 2015, 06:18 AM Post #3257 |
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Is that so?
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He's hiding a hand behind his back. It was a subtle move that Antonio had learned to pick up on. During his time dealing with gangs, that was one of the most common ways to try to sneak pulling a weapon on someone. And like a war veteran off the battlefield, it was one of the things he could never forget. A subtle motion that had struck fear and rage into his heart at one point in time. Now those two emotions welled within him like old friends. But now he was stronger. In the past he would be overwhelmed by them and whipped into a frenzy. But now he was in control of them. And he couldn't bring himself to bare those fangs until he knew for sure that Patrick had hostile intentions. "Yes, of course." Antonio pretended that he didn't see the movement. He opened the door for Patrick and led him inside. He subtly kept one eye plastered on Patrick at all times, studying every minute movement that he made like a hawk studied its prey. "I heard one of your friends call for Annie earlier. I hope everything is okay." * * * * * Noah? Alma? Nolan caught only a glimpse of them running into the small shop that served as the prison for Leonora's people. But he was certain that it was them. How did they get the truck? How did they get the guns!? What the hell was going on? Were they springing Lowell? A thousand questions barraged his mind at once and he simply didn't have the answers for them right now. There must be a reason for this. Nolan convinced himself. Noah and Alma are both good people -- I've spoken to them. There's no way they would do something like this without a good reason. "Kelsey, stay here." He ordered her, this time for real. They were at the corner of the parking lot. If she stayed here and stayed out of sight, she would be okay. There must be a reason behind this and he was going to find it out. If they found out something dangerous about this place, then he needed to know it too so he could warn Brandon and the others about it. When the gunfire inside ceased, he made his move. He darted as quickly as he could and traveled along the edge of the parking lot, low to the ground on the off chance they shot at him before they knew who he was. Despite his condition, it didn't take long for him at all to reach the shop. He got there just in time to see Noah and Alma walking back out. With Lowell in tow and armed. Nolan's heart skipped a beat at that sight -- he hadn't been expecting it. Noah and Alma were good people, but he wasn't so sure about Lowell. Even still, he was out in the open now and couldn't run anyway, so he simply held his hands out to show he was unarmed as their eyes fell on him. "Guys?" He asked. |
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| Strompy | Nov 7 2015, 10:12 AM Post #3258 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"Hey guys. Sure thing, what's up?" Brandon asked as he turned to face the two men approaching them. He made little effort to disguise how he moved Connor behind him. He kept hold on his walking stick halfway, keeping it handy if they were going to be talking with their fists, or those batons they were sporting. Brandon wondered about Hank. The guy was big to be sure, but he seemed kind of soft in a lot of ways. It was something Brandon admired, the strong should practice gentleness, but it wasn't very helpful if they weren't left a choice. Their posture gave Brandon a clear impression they were preparing to take him by force, just like his gave the impression he was going to resist. He wouldn't go with them, no matter what. This was going to be a fight. Brandon needed Hank to get mean because as capable as Brandon was, he was far short of his best at the moment. Maybe at his peak he could take the two of them straight with serious difficulty, but if Hank didn't fight he was going to have to be really dirty about this and that was going to be a fucking mess. ... Emily was going over her effects one last time. She just brushed her teeth, for the first time in two days, it was a welcome end to the build up of gunk on them. She didn't hear the door open, but there was a change in the air as a bit of cold air blew in. Somebody was behind her. Somebody who was trying very hard not to be heard. She locked her door, so they had a key. One of Leonora's people sneaking nto her room. Hardly painted an innocent picture. She exhaled deeply as her nerves began firing in near panic mode. This was the second time in one day somebody had her cornered in her room. If there were time she might feel a little vindication in her correct assessment of these people. This was a hostile move. They were not friendly. Her spidey-sense had been tingling since Gregory first opened his mouth and now she knew she was right. It was a realization that came in a split second. With her right hand she scratched at her belly innocently before sliding her hand just under her shirt to the glass shiv she'd just made. Behind her, whoever was approaching didn't pay any mind to the towel on the floor, which concealed some of the broken mirror. It crunched under their foot. They were right on top of her. Emily spun in time to see two things, big guy, and big needle. The needle came at her and with her left hand she pushed it away across her chest and leaned away from it. She applied pressure to his wrist with both hands and twisted it until the syringe fell from his grasp. Shots began ringing out and it became clear people were going to die. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Nov 8 2015, 04:01 AM Post #3259 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Eli watched with horror as Noah and Alma took off with Lowell. From his vantage point, he couldn’t see the body of whoever they had charged in here shooting at. By the time they all made it outside, he could see a stream of blood, and he didn’t have to guess why. After the beat-down he gave Lowell earlier, he wasn’t surprised Alma and Noah weren't letting him out also. He probably should have considered it fortunate that they didn’t open up his door only to plug him full of holes – that was probably what he would have done, if the roles were reversed. Their inaction wasn’t mercy, though. When the crime scene was discovered by Leonora and her goons, he’d be a prime target for harsh and swift reprisal. There was no doubt in his mind now – he was a dead man standing. I have to get out of here, he told himself, as his terror rose. I have to get out of here now. He kept banging on the door, even after the trio disappeared. He started pounding on the window, hoping maybe to break it, figure out a next move from there. He couldn’t make a crack, and if he hit it any harder he knew he’d break his hand and then what? He took a step back and tried to think. His thoughts led him to his pockets. He dug his hands into them, grasping for anything and everything that might help him. There was nothing. Just lint, a paper clip, a granola bar wrapper from his breakfast this morning – wait, a paper clip! He remembered suddenly how he had pocketed it a few days ago, only to forget all about it. He thanked his past self profusely for the foresight. It took a Herculean effort, but he forced his heart rate to remain steady – or steady enough, at least – as he disassembled the clip. He thought back to many days ago, when he had demonstrated the trick to Julie. He recreated his steps. He snapped it in two and hastily made a couple L shapes. He put one of the L’s into the lower part of the keyway. He inserted the other into the lock, feeling his way under the pins. He did everything he could to control his breathing as he jiggled up and down on the makeshift pick. He listened desperately for the click of the lock. “Come on, come on, come on,” he whispered frantically to himself. * * * Patrick let the needle slide back into his pocket. He maintained his strained smile as he closed the door behind him, then flashed Antonio both his palms – he could tell the guy was wary, he hoped that would settle him down. “Actually, there’s been an accident,” he said. “But we’re figuring it out.” He pointed over Antonio’s shoulder, towards the bed. He changed his expression from a smile to a look of curiosity. “Wait, is that yours?” he asked. His hand slipped back into his pocket, found the needle again. As soon as Antonio turned to look, he went for the injection on the side of neck. * * * Brother Derrick was surprised by the crunch of glass under his feet. He was even more surprised by the girl’s reaction – so swift, so decisive. The needle was out of his hands before he realized what was happening. She wasn’t going to make life easy for herself, he realized with dismay. She’s going to make it hard. She had her good wrist in both hands, so he reached out with his other arm, going for her neck. He tried to grab her and lift her off the wrong. If she wants to do this hard, then we’ll do this hard, he thought angrily. * * * Hank’s nerves lit up as the white guard stopped in front of Brandon while the black one kept circling around. Neither were wearing Gregory or Patrick’s trademark smiles. Instead, they appeared serious resolved. “Leonora needs to speak with you,” the redheaded guard said. “We’re supposed to bring you to her.” * * * Lowell’s eyesight struggled to cope with the daylight. His throat felt like sandpaper. Noah and Alma’s entrance had woken him from a brief nap, and as hard as he had hit the bottle earlier today, his hangover was hitting him harder. “Nolan!?” Noah’s voice rang out over the pounding in Lowell’s head. “Get back to the hotel!” Nolan? Lowell thought, as his eyes adjusted and the preppie young man came into view. Fuck him. It was hard to think clearly. Things were moving too fast. He had been betrayed, intoxicated, rejected, beaten up, imprisoned in a short time and the whiplash had left his thoughts and feelings in a jumble. But in the maelstrom that was his mind, fuck him persisted. Fuck Emily, fuck Eli, fuck Brandon, fuck Ruby, fuck Hank – fuck all of them, he thought. He, Noah and Alma were doing all right once. When it was just the three of them. Ever since Hank had shown up, things had just gotten fucked up and more fucked up. Meeting him and his daughter, and everyone else afterwards, was the worst thing that ever happened to Lowell, including the biter apocalypse. The apocalypse wasn’t what turned Noah against him, after all. The apocalypse didn’t beat him up and put him in a cell. The apocalypse didn’t lead him to this moment. It was those people. It was their fault. Nolan is one of those people, he realized. Lowell raised his pistol and aimed it at Nolan. The din in his head became background noise. He achieved a sudden calm. His arm was steady. He squeezed the trigger once. BANG! Then twice. BANG! Then three times. BANG! He didn’t stop until the magazine was empty. BANG! BANG! BANG! Each bullet tore wetly into flesh, and Lowell watched through narrowed eyes as Nolan collapsed backwards in a spray of blood. Fuck him, Lowell thought with satisfaction. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Nov 8 2015, 04:44 AM Post #3260 |
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Is that so?
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Antonio made the motion as if he were glancing over his shoulder and following Patrick's gaze. But halfway through, he looked back. His feign worked; Patrick was already making his move. Antonio had been ready for something though, his left hand snapped upward and managed to latch itself around Patrick's wrist, stopping his arm and the needle before it could reach Antonio's neck. Though, admittedly, the needle was a little closer than he would have liked. And unsurprisingly, it looked like Patrick was the stronger of the two; his superior strength allowed him to push the needle closer and closer to his exposed neck, despite Antonio having a hold of his arm. I need to do something! The Catholic priest let out a battle roar and lunged his free hand towards Patrick's neck. Once he had Patrick by the neck, Antonio pushed forward with all the strength in his hips and legs. He was going to try to push Patrick and pin him against the wall. * * * * * Mistakes were made. The first shot struck Nolan just underneath his collarbone. He remembered the sensation he felt when he had gotten shot in the forearm before, back in Iowa -- the sensation of heated metal ripping through his flesh. That is what he felt now. But oddly enough, it didn't hurt. If anything, it felt more like a dream, like he really wasn't here right now. His first reaction was to reach to his hip. Where his gun was. Of course it wasn't there, Leonora had taken it from him earlier. Shit. The next shot drilled through his shoulder. The one after that his chest. Then two in the stomach. Somehow, he remained on his feet. He was only vaguely aware of it at that point though. The final shot went through his thigh. He was only vaguely aware of the sensation of his leg giving out under him and him falling. He could see himself falling, but the sensation of it was gone, he didn't even feel himself hit the ground. One second he was looking at the shocked faces of Noah and Alma alongside the angry face of Lowell. The next, he was looking up at the sky. My chest feels wet. Oh, right... probably blood. Shit. Jen helped me pick these clothes out... I think? Or was it Willow? They're gonna be mad when they see what I did to them. Should probably tell them about Lowell getting out. He tried to get up. He yelled at his body to listen to him and move. Though try as he might, he could barely move a muscle. Or if he was, he couldn't feel it. Everything was just... numb. Even the pain from the gunshots was fading away fast. Why do I need to go warn them about Lowell anyway? It's just Lowell. They're all badasses over there. They'll be fine... they never needed me. He blinked. But... the sky sure is nice today... isn't it? Why didn't I notice sooner? |
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| DoctorYerishi | Nov 8 2015, 04:55 AM Post #3261 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Lowell calmly lowered his weapon and ejected the magazine. He reached for the replacement Alma had already fetched him. He licked his cracked lips. The hammering in his head resumed. Noah spun on his heels, his face aghast. “What the fuck!?” his once-friend screamed. Alma reminded him what’s up. “There’s no time!” she cried. “We have to go!” She grabbed Noah by the shoulder with the hand that wasn’t in a sling. She tried pulling him backwards, but he didn’t budge. His gaze was fixed angrily on Lowell. Lowell just stared past him. The ground had begun swirling around him. “Seriously!” Alma insisted. “Come on!” She pushed him instead of pulling, and Noah finally broke his stare. He turned to scowl at Alma and then head for the front seat. Alma nudged Lowell next. “You too!” she said. Lowell nodded and winced at his headache, which was building in intensity. He followed her towards the passenger’s side door. He helped her up and into it, and noticed her frowning as she glanced back at Nolan’s dying body. * * * Patrick was shocked when Antonio caught his arm. He thought for sure he had him. He would have bet money on it. It took him a moment to recover – a moment that Antonio spent getting a hand around his neck. He made a choking sound as Antonio shoved him back, then an oof one as he hit the wall. Yikes, he thought. This guy came to play. But Patrick could play too. He adapted his mindset from ambush to brawl. He kept a grip on the needle with his good arm, then raised his other one – and brought his elbow down on the arm attached to the hand attached to his throat. He caught his breath as soon as Antonio let go. He followed it up with a kick that connected with Antonio’s gut and sent him sprawling back to a soft landing on the bed. Patrick didn’t let up. He launched himself forward, raising the needle. Taking Antonio alive seemed like a long shot all of a sudden, so he went ahead and tried to stab him in the jugular. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Nov 8 2015, 05:33 AM Post #3262 |
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Is that so?
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Antonio rolled to the side just in time. The fist that held the needle missed Antonio by a fraction of an inch as it dug into the bed where he had been laying less than a second ago. Nevermind what was actually in the needle, that could have killed him if it hit! Even if he used the oldest tricks in the book, Patrick was not playing around right now. And while Antonio had no intention of killing Patrick, he wasn't about to go down quietly. As he rolled, he scooped Nolan's bag up off the bed and swung it as hard as he could at Patrick. Unfortunately, it wasn't a very heavy bag. * * * * * "NOLAN!" Kelsey screamed. All of the sudden, she didn't care if she got shot either. She didn't care if she got attacked. All she knew was that her brother had just gotten shot. He was bleeding. He was dying. Her blood was still running cold despite the fact that her heart was pounding like a drum in her chest. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks like waterfalls. She reached his body. His eyes were still open. He was looking toward the sky. As she knelt over him, his eyes glanced at her. His eyes sharpened as they recognized who was standing over him. But he looked terrible. She placed one hand on his chest and another on his shoulder and started to lightly shake him. "Nolan! Don't go to sleep! DON'T GO TO SLEEP!" He looked bad. He looked really bad. There was a lot of blood. The hand she had put on his chest was already red with his blood. Kelsey's eyes widened further. He's... he's going to die. The thought sent a chill down her spine and sapped the strength from him. Nolan is going to die. What do I do, what do I do!? Her arms started to shake violently. The tears renewed at full strength once again. She shook her brother some more, trying to keep him from falling asleep. If he stayed awake, maybe he would be okay. If Annie got here, maybe she could save him! But she needed to yell loud. "HELP!" She screamed desperately at the top of her lungs to anyone who would listen, the same word over and over again because there were no other words. "HELP! HELP! HEEEEELP!" Then something unexpected happened. Nolan reached up with his hand and gently patted her on the head. He smiled. Then closed his eyes. "N-no..." Kelsey stammered and shook his body again. He didn't respond. No matter how hard she shook him, he didn't open his eyes again. He just laid still. Kelsey wanted to stop right there. She wanted to curl into a ball and lay next to her brother. She didn't care if she died. She didn't care what happened anymore. After mom and dad died, Nolan was all she had left. And now... and now... She heard a voice in her head that stopped her from giving up. It was Connor's; "But you’re pretty cool, too, and brave. If one of us was in danger, you’d probably do the same thing, right?" Yeah... Connor had strength. When people were in danger, he went out there and he fought. He didn't give up. And maybe this wasn't the same, since Nolan wasn't in danger anymore... but it gave her an idea. And the sorrow she felt was still replaced by something else. Something darker. Anger. Pure, unadulterated rage. Her teeth ground together as a switch was flipped somewhere in her brain. Nolan was dead. And now, she wasn't afraid of dying either. But she could kill Lowell. The truck was right there. They were piling in right now. They were about to leave. She didn't think. She didn't stop to consider anything else. Kelsey let the rage take over. She darted her small body toward the truck as it started up. She pulled herself onto the back bumper of the truck as it started to move. I am going to kill Lowell. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Nov 8 2015, 06:23 AM Post #3263 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Patrick frowned as he lost the needle to the softness of the bed. That frown turned upside down when he rose to his feet, and took a hit from a gym bag full of clothes. It was only one step up from being hit with a pillow. He returned the swing – but he used his fist, which was quite a bit harder. His blow connected with Antonio’s cheek and the older man was sent sprawling once again. “Woo boy!” Patrick cheered, rolling his shoulders and hopping back and forth on his feet like a boxer. “You’re pretty spry for a big fella!” With the needle out of play, Patrick had come to accept that this was going to take a minute. He decided he might as well enjoy himself. * * * Yes! Relief flooded through Eli when he heard the click he had been praying for. His body finally stopped shaking on its own, without Eli needing to incessantly command it to. His trouble was far from over, though – and he found that out the hard way just a minute later, after rushing through the shop and out into the parking lot. He thought he was running to his freedom, but he was actually running into a scene of terror. Noah was behind the wheel of Patrick’s heavy truck, the one that had transported them to the rotter trap earlier that day. Noah and Alma were loading in beside him. Kelsey was climbing on the bumper. The engine roared and it started to move, with her clinging to the back. For a few long, confused moments, Eli couldn’t fathom why she would do such a reckless and dangerous thing. Then his eyes found Nolan nearby – he was lying deathly still in a pool of blood. Eli’s heart sank to the bottom of his chest. His whole body went cold. No... After everything he had been through, after Eli and the others came so far to find him… Eli couldn’t understand. It didn’t make any sense. How could it end like this? He remembered the last words they had exchanged – how they had blamed each other for Jen – and he felt unbearably nauseous. He felt the bile climb up his throat. He bent over and spewed it out. Then he remembered something else. “Can I make you guys promise me something?” The words played in Eli’s head. “Can you take care of Kelsey for me?" Randall’s last words to him. He looked up from his vomit at the truck, as it started speeding down the street, Randall’s little girl still hanging on for her life. Eli now understood why. But she was going to get herself killed. There was nothing he could do for Nolan. But he could still keep his promise to Randall. He cleared his mind of everything else. Because nothing else mattered. He started running. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Nov 8 2015, 06:49 AM Post #3264 |
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Is that so?
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"It's a pretty good skill to have outside the walls." Antonio half groaned and half retorted through his sore jaw while he picked himself back up. It looked like Patrick was waiting for him to get back on his feet. He hated to admit it, but Patrick had a really solid punch. Though it could just be Antonio's age catching up to him. The priest knew that the playing field was really not in his favor. And he really wished Nolan had kept something heavier inside of his bag right about now -- like a bunch of wrenches. That would have been perfect. If he made it out of this, he was going to suggest that to him. But if he was going to make it out of this, he was going to need to take out Patrick. There was nothing nearby he could use though. He knew he had a heavy metal flashlight in his bag. That would make a decent weapon if he could get it. But he didn't think he would have that kind of time. And until he could think of something, he needed to rely on the good old fisticuffs and pray that God gave him the strength to hold out. * * * * * It took her a little effort, but Kelsey managed to slip inside the trailer through the doors on the back while it was driving. And what she found exceeded her expectations. There was a lot of stuff. A lot of it was in boxes and she couldn't immediately tell what it was, but a quick search revealed some sports armors and some weapons. Big guns. Like the assault rifles Brandon really liked. There was no doubt in her mind that she could kill Lowell with one of these. She picked up the first one she found; it was similar to the M4 that Cory and his guys used to use, but it looked a little different. She didn't really know how it was different. But it didn't matter either. It fired bullets. Bullets could kill Lowell. The math was simple. All that was left for her to do now was wait. |
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| Strompy | Nov 8 2015, 09:35 AM Post #3265 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"I can find Leonora just fine on my own, why don't you two go back to painting each other's nails?" Brandon said with confidence he didn't feel. The second guy circled around to his left. His blind side. He could attack him from there and Brandon wouldn't be able to see it coming. His grip tightedned on his walking stick. It was an old kind of thing, made to last. Heavy tough wood. He'd grown kind of fond of it. "Connor, you voted for me, remember? Means you do what I say?" he asked anxiously as his gaze alernated between the two guards. That's when the gunfire started. It was like the starting gun of a race. It came from the direction of the building they were keeping Eli in. Brandon assumed it was Eli making his break. Even if it wasn't, combined with this antagonistic situation it meant the end of their little game. The guard in front of him looked back in that direction briefly, it was Brandon's window to strike. He couldn't risk Hank getting involved, he now realized. As much help as it would be, and as much as it would improve his own odds, Brandon couldn't let him endanger himself or Connor by getting involved. their best chance was to get away while Brandon tied these two up. It didn't bode well for himself though. "RUN!" he yelled as he swung blindly, literally blindly, to his left. He didn't know if the man was there. Fortunately, he was. The crook end of the cane connected with the side of his head with a loud crack. That sturdy cane of his snapped on impact he hit him so hard, leaving Brandon with a sharp stick. From the corner of his eye he saw the white guy surge forward at him and turned to meet him. The man barreled into him, knocking them both over as he crash tackled him. Brandon let out an agonized wheeze as the impact set his chest on fire with pain. To his surprise the other guy did the same. He looked down to see what was left of his cane sticking out of the man's abdomen at an angle that looked incredibly painful. The man took it in stride, as much as you could take a thick piece of wood through the belly in stride, and drew a knife from his belt. Brandon caught his arm with his own. The knife hung perilously over him as they struggled over it. THe man put the force of his other hand behind it, and Brandon raised his to resist. They were locked like that for a while, and Brandon could hear even more gunfire in the background, which sent a wave a panic through him. Kelsey and Nolan had gone that way. Even with a piece of wood in him, the other guy was faring better, and Brandon was waning. To make matters worse, his friend was picking himself up off the ground. He caught sight of the guard's sidearm in a chest holster and recognized that was his only shot at this. It was a gamble getting the gun. In fact he'd have to take a gamble, in order to take a gamble. He let go with his right hand, and the man's superior position and leverage over powered the last of his resistance but he was able to steer it a little. The knife plunged into his shoulder, avoiding his chest or neck and Brandon roared in pain. Maybe it would hit an artery anyway, but it was as safe a bet as he could manage. His right hand shot for the gun as the man had a brief moment of surprise at the sudden victory. The gun didn't even need to clear the holster, Brandon just pointed it at the guy and pulled the trigger three times into his chest. He saw the man's buddy go for his own. He rolled the stunned guard over and put him between himself and the other opponent. The man fired three shots, all of which hit Brandon's meat shield, but he definitely felt something bite his side nonetheless. He fired back hitting him in the chest twice, and after a stunned moment the man crumpled. It was a few seconds before reality came back to him and he realized as tired and pained as he was he couldn't stay on the ground bleeding. His people needed him. They vouched for him. Put their faith in him, and everything seemed to have gone to shit immediately. He didn't see any way this could be his fault, but it didn't stop him feeling that way. "Leader" for a whole ten minutes before another huge crisis. Deep end. He took an assessment of himself. He had a knife in his shoulder, and that pain in his side was a bullet as he suspected. It didn't hit anything vital, it just hurt a lot, and the knife, he wouldn't be able to tell until he pulled it out. With a little nervous chuckle, and grabbed the handle and pulled it free with a cry of pain. It bled profusely, but not arterial profusely. Unless it was internal. Fuck it, nothing to be done until he got to Annie. He was alive for now at least. Two on one, with him half blind and gimped. They were both dead and he was alive. He roared at their bleeding corpses defiantly, and then wondered just how much more of this punishment he could take. More shots rang out from the directionof the cells, and he was called back to himself. He needed to make a decision. In one direction, the cells, where Eli, Nolan and Kelsey were. In another, Willow and Emmett had gone to see Leonora. If this was her doing, then they were in danger, if they weren't already dead. He weighed the options up. If he could get to Leonora he could take control of this whole situation. There would be guards heading toward the gunfire too, so he might just get himself killed going that way, and Nolan and Kelsey should know better than to go toward gunfire, so they were probably safe. Probably. Go right then. his head said. But in his heart it wasn't so clear. It came down to two things really. Go right to Willow, his lover, the most important person in the world. Or go left, to Kelsey, the girl he'd grown to love like his own sister, whose father he'd made a promise to. Brandon picked up the other guard's gun and a few spare magazines and went left. ... Bad. Very bad. This guy was very big, and Emily was very small. She had one chance against somebody with this much of an advantage. "What's this?" her instructor asked of them. "A mirror." Dylan answered humoringly. He knew that wasn't the answer, even though the guy was actually holding a mirror. "Wrong. This is a weapon." he said. He proceeded to smack the mirror on a table. To their credit they all managed to refrain from telling him that was seven years bad luck. He looked at them expectantly. He was waiting for somebody to say it. "That's seven years bad luck." Emily said resignedly. "No, that'd be my last marriage." he said dryly, which elicited a grundging laugh from all of them, if only because of how lame that joke was. "This is a weapon. Glass. A shard of glass can be sharper than any razor blade. You would be amazed how many things can become deadly weapons. Things you would probably overlook. Even paper can be a weapon. Prison inmates have been known to make improvised weapons out of toilet paper. Seven years ago a prisoner in..." The memory was there and gone in a flash as her attacker began to lift her off the ground by the neck. It was the second time in one day a man had used his muscle on her and it went beyond pissing her off. As she was lifted into the air her right hand shot to her waist and the weapon she had secreted there. She let out a furious scream as the crude blade shot out. For a split second she feared she lost her one chance in this as all she could see was a faint red line across the man's neck. Had she just scratched him after all that? Then she saw the blood. A dribble at first. And then more, lots more. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Nov 9 2015, 01:47 AM Post #3266 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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When the gunfire started, Hank’s nerves exploded – he could no longer deny that something was wrong here. Something was very wrong. He didn’t let himself question Brandon’s order. When the younger man told him to run, he grabbed Connor’s arm, and he ran. The kid resisted for a split second, but then went along. Together, they made a bee-line back for the hotel. He tried not to think about how his dreams of safety were crashing down around them. He also tried not to think about how he was abandoning Brandon. He tried to focus on the thing that mattered most to him in life. His family. He needed to find his family. * * * Ruby was done crying. After Alma had turned her away, she had retreated to a bathroom and bawled her eyes out silently, not wanting to alert her aunt or dad and invite their attempts at comfort. When she was finished, she had done her best to clean herself up before returning to their side. Now, over an hour later, her sadness had succumbed to fatigue. Now she was spending her time rubbing her red-tinted eyes when she wasn’t staring into space. Her crush on Noah, until now, had been such a welcome distraction from the alternating monotony and terror that had been her life on the road. She really liked him. He was cute, funny, and brave – and unlike his friend and girlfriend, she could see the kind soul behind his eyes. The best part was that he really liked her too. In the fleeting moments they could be alone, they had connected. Emotionally at first, and last night, finally, physically as well. He said he was going to stay with them. She thought they were going to be together. It was the one thing she had to look forward to. Now what do I have to look forward to? she asked herself – it was rhetorical, because she knew the answer was nothing. A scurry of footfalls up and down the hall failed to jolt her out of her malaise. She didn’t stop staring at the same spot of the wall until there was a knock on the door, and Aunt Riley stood up to answer. “Hi, Gregory,” Riley greeted. “We heard noise, is – oh, jeez, what happened?” Her tone intrigued Ruby enough that she leaned over to get a look. Gregory’s nose appeared to be broken. She had seen the same kind of thing on kids at school who liked to get into fights. “There was an accident,” Gregory answered. “It’s under control.” “Oh,” Riley said. “Hank left a while ago, he went for a walk. Should I…?” She trailed off. Gregory happily cut in. “I know,” he said. “I just spoke with him. He and your friend Andrew are waiting at the train station. I was actually sent to come get you. I have good news. You’ve been accepted.” Riley blinked in surprise. “We… we have?” Gregory smiled. “Congratulations.” “And we’re… we’re leaving now?” “Like I said, there’s been an accident. We’re evacuating all non-essential personnel just to be safe.” “Oh,” Riley said. “This is good news,” Gregory insisted. He seemed oddly anxious. “You’ll see. I don’t mean to rush you, but your brother is waiting for us.” “Oh… okay,” Riley said, nodding after a second. Ruby didn’t know what to think as her aunt turned to face her. CJ may not have been able to hear the exchange, but he must have sensed something, because he turned to look as well. “Come on kids, get your bags,” Riley instructed, signing along with her words. “It looks like we’re leaving.” * * * Brother Derrick’s surprise compounded at the appearance of a shiv. It was just like back in prison. As the girl let out a primal scream and slashed him with it, he felt a surge of immense frustration – at her, for being so difficult, and at himself, for not seeing it coming. The Bishop didn’t want them to go soft. He said they needed to be smart and strong to serve as warriors for the Lord. He made sure they kept up with their training, mental and physical. And now, in this instant, Derrick had let him down. A feeling of shame mixed with the frustration, and also the pain. He released the girl. He sniffed the copper of his own blood. Both hands went to his neck and were immediately wet. He stumbled backwards as he tried in vain to stem the tide rushing from the wound she had made. You… you bitch, he wanted to say – he tried to say, but only a wet gurgling sound came out. Then Brother Derrick fell to his knees, then to his stomach, and his final breaths escaped him. * * * Patrick smiled at the retort, and smiled wider when Antonio made his way back onto his feet. Again, he thought about how he might as well make this fun. “That’s right, that’s right,” Patrick said. “Come on and get it.” He feigned a jab, and when Antonio went for the dodge, Patrick executed his real strike – a roundhouse punch. He swung his hand like it was a rock on the end of a string. Again, the rock connected with Antonio’s face, knocking at least one tooth loose. Patrick bounced a little more on his feet, admiring his handiwork. “You know, you missed out with that needle,” he said. “You could have had a nice high and a nice nap. I bet that sounds pretty good right now, huh?” |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Nov 9 2015, 02:12 AM Post #3267 |
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Is that so?
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Antonio's vision flashed brightly as Patrick got that punch in on him. The second time in less than a minute he had been planted on the ground, though this time he didn't even remember falling. The entire left side of his face was throbbing and metallic taste of blood stained his palette. To his side, he could see the bottom of his flashlight sticking out through the zipper of his bag. It was one of those large Mag-Lites; they made flashlights that were metal. Even though the thing only weighed five pounds or so, it was dense and it was sure as hell solid. There was no way he could stand up to Patrick in a straight up fight. Of course, Antonio never had any intention of fighting this one fair. The priest spat out a globule of blood; "I just wanted you to have your fun before I beat the shit out of you." Cursing felt good here. It felt really good. It felt like it had been years since he dropped a good 4-latter word. And he could ask for forgiveness later. This was personal. As he got back to his feet, he grasped the flashlight and brought it up with him. The next time Patrick closed in, he was going to end this fight. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Nov 9 2015, 02:43 AM Post #3268 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Patrick laughed again. “Well I appreciate that, friend,” he said. “I truly do.” He took a step forward, and then turned and launched a powerful foot into the unsteady Catholic’s midsection. He had his former kickboxing instructor to thank for the good form. * * * The engine on the heavy truck roared as it tore through the street. Eli’s legs felt like they were on fire as he ran as fast he could after it. He didn’t care. Even if they were really on fire, he would have let them burn. Kelsey had disappeared into the back of the truck and if he couldn’t catch up to her somehow she’d be gone. Soon after, she’d really be gone. Lowell had killed her brother. If he got the chance, he wasn’t going to spare her. Eli couldn’t let it come to that. He had failed one Phillips. Another had sacrificed himself for him. He owed that family more than he could ever give. So he kept running. The truck turned a corner. He ran faster than he ever had, desperate to catch up. * * * One of Leonora’s whack-job followers – another bald-headed one, with a tribal tattoo on one side of his forehead – stepped out into the street. He waved his arms at them, as if signalling them to stop. He must not have realized who was driving. Noah would have gone past him, but Lowell leaned forward and jerked the wheel. The bald-guard tried to get out of the way too late. The truck bounced as it smashed into him and dragged him under the wheel. Noah let out a frustrated scream, then forcefully elbowed Lowell back into his seat. He turned and pointed at him, his finger shaking with rage and tension. “Sit down!” he screamed at him. “Don’t be a pussy!” Lowell screamed back. Alma had to reach over and jerk the wheel with her good arm before they ran off the road. Noah quickly turned back around. “Fight later!” Alma let out her own scream, then pointed down the road. “The gate’s that way!” Noah inhaled his next retort. She was right. This wasn’t the time. And the gate was just ahead. And it was closed. Fuck. Of course it was closed. Five of Leonora’s men stood guard nearby, their guns at the ready. They realized what was happening and took aim at the truck’s windshield. “Don’t slow down!” Alma screamed again. Noah didn’t. He pressed his foot down harder on the pedal, sending them on a collision course with the gate. He cringed and ducked his head. He prepared for the worst. * * * At a glance, Eli could make out the tread pattern of the truck’s all-terrain tires on the guard’s skin. He hated to stop for any reason, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. He came to a sliding stop near the twitching body. He kicked the guard’s jacket aside to reveal his holster. He bent down and retrieved the pistol from it. Then he kept running, losing only a couple seconds in the process. The truck was going for the gate. He tried to pick up his speed, but he was running out of time. * * * CRASH! The truck rammed into the metal bars of the gate, there was a scream of metal, and the whole gate door popped off its frame and went flying backwards. Noah kept his foot on the gas. The truck torpedoed through and kept going. Gunfire barked out from behind them. Noah heard bullets thud behind them, into the trailer. He dared to open his eyes and raise his head – just in time to see one of the side view mirrors explode into shards. He glanced at the other one, and he saw the walls of the city get smaller and smaller. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” Alma screamed – Noah couldn’t believe the notes of joy in her voice. “We did it!” Alma actually laughed. Lowell, meanwhile, smiled wide and mimed a celebratory howl – he was probably too hungover to want to actually make a loud sound. Noah was silent. * * * There were five guards. Four were shooting at the rear of the escaping truck. One was frantically kick-starting a motorcycle they had waiting by the gate. By the time one of them turned around, Eli had his gun raised and at the ready. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! He fired while he was running, so his aim was shit. Fortunately, he had held his fire until he was close enough to make it count. One of his bullets tore through the back of the skull of the guard on the motorcycle. The guard fell lifelessly forward and the motorcycle toppled over. Eli panted heavily and kept running, even as he adjusted his aim. BLAM! BLAM! His first shot got the next guard in the shoulder, sending him spinning 90 degrees. The one after that got the same guard in the back. That guard collapsed forward, not dead, but no longer an immediate threat. Clickclickclick. Eli turned to see the next guard aiming his rifle at him and squeezing the trigger. Turned out, he had run out of ammo. He realized that with a frown. The kind of frown someone had when they knew they had made a fatal mistake. The kind they had when they knew they were about to – BLAM! – die. Eli got him in the throat. He turned and looked for the last guard standing. He found him just in time to see he wasn’t making the same mistake as his friend. He wasn’t bothering with his depleted rifle. Instead, he was charging right back at Eli. Eli tried to move his feet and get out of the way, but it was too late. The guard slammed into with his shoulder and the force was like a Mack Truck. Eli spun through the air, and his pistol went sliding away when he hit the ground. It took Eli a second to regain his bearings. It was a second he didn’t have. His eyes dizzily focused on his lost pistol, and he saw the guard – the one that might as well have been a linebacker – reach it first. No, no, no, the word desperately swam through Eli’s mind. Kelsey’s getting away… I can’t let… I have to… The linebacker guard raised the pistol at Eli’s crumpled form. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Nov 9 2015, 03:18 AM Post #3269 |
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Is that so?
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The sharp kick knocked the wind out of Antonio and he was slammed against the wall. Thankfully, he managed to hold onto the flashlight that he was hiding behind his thigh. He never had any formalized martial arts training -- all Antonio was good at was brawling. Patrick clearly had some form of training, his moves were too crisp to be those of an amateur. Between his age and inferior technique, Antonio know he only had one shot at making this work. But it relied on Patrick letting his guard down. But if he could lure him into it, then he could walk away from this. "Before I finish... making a fool of you." Antonio groaned as he caught his breath. "Tell me one thing; why?" * * * * * Kelsey's mind was a maelstrom of emotions. Sadness and anger wrestled alongside sorrow and rage. Her little heart had been crushed once again -- but this time she saw it. It made her violently ill. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, and, more than anything, she wanted to puke. But somehow she kept it together. Then the entire truck turned to the side. And Kelsey was smashed into a pile of closed boxes to her side; her stomach smashed into the corner of a box and the wind got knocked clear out of her. She dropped the gun she had found and it slid across the ground. Then she threw up. Her meager breakfast plastered itself on top of the box and onto her shirt. While she was weak-kneed from the sudden rush, the surged forward and she was thrown to the ground, where she landed uncomfortably on her shoulder. The truck hit something else afterward. There was a loud screech and a jolt, but other than that, not much. Kelsey didn't feel like getting up off the ground right now. |
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| Strompy | Nov 9 2015, 03:28 AM Post #3270 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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Bang The bullet tore a neat hole through the front of the guard's head and blew a messy one out the back. It was obvious to him this hadn't all started with Eli, even if it had the outcome would have veen the same, he would have helped his friend. If friend was even the right word for him. Right now he didn't even like the man. It didn't matter, someone was trying to kill him, so Brandon killed them instead. Brandon's muscles ached beyond words. The building where they kept Eli and Lowell was a scene. Somebody hit the place sprang one or both of them and took off in a vehicle. Brandon didn't even so much as have a second to mourn his friend as he found Nolan's body, because Kelsey was not there, and neither was Eli. If it were a breakout, thdn they'd be heading for the gate. Finding them was his best chance at finding his friends and getting some answers about Nolan. So he ran. He ran until his vision blurred from the pain, until he felt like he might die. Then he found the gate in rubble and a guard with Eli dead to rights. Once the guard was dead Brandon practically colkapsed from exhaustion. Somehow he was still standibg but he wouldn't be doing much more than that for a few moments. He limped slowly toward Eli. "Eli. Wh-where's Kelsey?" he managed through his heavy panting. ... Emily stood and looked down at the growing pool of blood the man she just killed qas lying in. She didn't knoe how long she stared at it. She killed him. He was dead because she cut his thriat open with a piece of glass. She turned the fact over in her head a hundred different ways trying to find a way to think about it that didn't fill her with a sense of guilt, self-loathing and worst if all a twisted sense of accomplishment. Eventually she pushed through that fog in her head and remembered what was hapoening. Somebody attacked her. Gunfire. This wasn't just her, they were probably after all of them anf that gunfire was probably people dying. She pulked the shitgun the man was carrying off his body with a little difficulty, as well as several rounds if ammo. She didn't bother to put a knife in his head. She was about to step out the door when she remembersd the syringe. Sedative probably. Could be useful. She scooped it up too and put it in her pocket before exiting her room, gun at the ready. |
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7:28 PM Jul 10