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Dead Men Walking
Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (70,816 Views)
DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Connor couldn’t answer immediately, though he desperately wanted to. He needed a few more seconds to catch his breath.

“Donnie and Alex,” he finally managed.

At that point, he noticed the door to the Kelly’s room open, and saw Hank emerge to investigate the commotion. Riley and Ruby were right behind him.

“The assholes from Twin Falls,” Connor added between breaths. “The ones that robbed us. They killed the casino guy, not Emily. And they captured Brandon. We gotta…”

He cringed – he realized his head was pounding too, right in time with his heart. Sprinting as far as he had, at the speed he did, had really taken a lot out of him. He needed another second.

“…tell that Saxon guy what happened. And we gotta help Brandon!”

With that information finally out there, Connor allowed himself a moment to recover. He collapsed against the door frame and breathed heavily.

* * *

When Connor was done talking, Emmett took only a beat before looking to Willow. He pushed aside the panic and immediately set about finding a solution. Unfortunately, Connor had given them two goals. The problem was…

“We only have one car,” he said.

They drove two from the town hall to the safe-house, and Antonio had taken one of them to deliver the prisoners.
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Strompy
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"Yes, we've done a head count. I had my people go floor by floor. Everyone is accounted for and since the incident we've had all exits shut down. We're on high alery. Nobody could get in or out of here. I'm no investigator either, and the unfortunate truth is I have no conception of how we could determine who was responsible for this. It's even possible some third party is to blame. Emily managed to find her way in, it's possible we have a gap in our security. She's refused to explain to me how she got in however and I was hoping for everyone's sake you could convince her to share that." Saxon explained.

"I am ofcourse willing to release Annie immediately.If I'm not satisfied of Emily's guilt it goes without saying that Annie is without blame. I can see no justifiable objection to that from any of my people." he continued to sweeten the proposal.
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Make-7-Up-Yours
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Is that so?
"We would appreciate that. Her son will no doubt be delighted to have her back safely."

Antonio's face lightened at the proposal. Not to say it was harsh before, but tensions were high. Having negotiations go so smoothly was a very encouraging first step. His fractured faith in God was actively being renewed.

"As for Emily... sadly, I don't know how she got in. I'll talk to her and see if we can get her to share. Any information is valuable right now."

* * * * *

Willow's eyes narrowed. She didn't know what, exactly, was going on. But she knew enough that it was clear what she had to do.

"Emmett, take Connor and go to Saxon. I'll go help Brandon myself."

Despite her big talk, the crippled Willow was hardly the most inspiring sight right now. Even she knew that, in her current condition, she might not be able to make the walk to wherever Brandon actually was, let alone take out his attackers. But she had to try. She couldn't lose him, too.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Emmett didn’t like Willow’s suggestion at all. It entailed leaving her alone to go confront two dangerous men. She wasn’t even in particularly good shape, only a day removed from her ordeal on the train and her initial detox. He didn’t argue that, though. He wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. He was even more recently on a make-shift IV drip. According to Annie, he might have lasting organ and kidney damage that he didn’t even know about.

He didn’t have to voice an objection, however, as Connor voiced one for him.

“You don’t even know where he is!” Connor said, still visibly drained from the run back, but recovered enough to talk in complete sentences. “No way are you just leaving me behind!”

Emmett didn’t like the sound of that, either. He knew Annie would like it even less if she were there. He was still hesitant to speak out, however. He wasn’t in charge, of Connor or anybody else.

“I’ll go to the casino,” Hank suddenly volunteered.

“Wait – you’re not leaving?” Riley jumped into the conversation. “What if something happens here?”

“Emmett will protect you,” Hank said.

“I can go,” Emmett finally spoke up for himself. “You can stay.”

“I’ve met some of their people,” Hank argued. “They know me. They don’t know you – or if they do, it’s because you kidnapped two of their guys, right?”

Emmett didn’t answer. Hank correctly took his silence as confirmation, and headed right for the keys.

“We talked about this!” Riley pleaded. “No more putting ourselves on the line for these people!”

“I’m doing the easy part,” Hank replied. “I won’t be in any danger.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I know there’s no time,” he said, more resolute with every word. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Willow...”

Hank turned to her before leaving, then hesitated. He seemed to have trouble finding the right words. Emmett could relate.

“Don’t die,” he said, finally. “And Emmett, keep my family safe.”

“I will,” Emmett said, and gave him a serious nod.

A moment later, Hank was out the door. Emmett didn’t object because he figured it was for the best. He wasn’t a good talker. Hank was better. He was the right choice for that mission. The other mission, though, he was much more conflicted about. He was trapped now, though. He couldn’t leave, even if he wanted to risk further injury. He had made Hank a promise.

“Come on!” Connor urged, straightening his posture and looking to Willow urgently. “Get your gun, I’ll lead the way!”
Edited by DoctorYerishi, Jul 3 2018, 05:02 PM.
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Strompy
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The glass won't hold, what's your move?

Brandon had sat with his back pressed to the upturned table as the rotters gather just outside. More and more hans slapped against the window, the walls, the door. The glass would break soon and him and a table wouldn't be able to hold back the press of bodies on the other side.

The refridgerator.

Brandon abandoned his position and moved to the refridgerator. It was big a relatively heavy. It hurt to do it but he managed to move it into position. With another push he was able to place the additional weight of the refridgerator against the table, partially blocking the window. It wasn't a moment too soon either as he heard the unmistakable sound of cracking glass. Over the din of rotters he heard the thundering engine of Donnie's bike as it drove away.

All Brandon could think about even as the glass began to give way was how he would kill Donnie. Thinking about anything else would have only made the situation worse.

...

"There has to be somewhere else they could put us." Emily rightfully complained as she tried to stretch in the cramped room.

As if by divine intervention the door opened and the guard leaned in, gesturing with his thumb for Emily and Annie to step out.

"The doctor's free to go, and you've got a visitor." he explained gruffly.

Emily didn't need to know anything more than that she was stepping out of that closet space. She smiled to see Antonio waiting for them.

"Hope you're not here to give me my last rites." she quipped.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Annie had been mostly quiet since Saxon last stopped by to confiscate her radio, and reveal that Brandon had taken hostages of his own. As far as she knew, they were working on making a deal to end the situation peacefully, so she spent her time alternating between seething that they were locked up in the first place, and hoping that the deal went through without further bloodshed.

When the door opened again, and Antonio was behind it, she took that as a good sign. A measure of relief washed over her, tempered only by the fact that the guard only said the doctor was free.

“What about Emily?” she looked to the guard. “I’m not going anywhere without her.”
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Strompy
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"Suit yourself, she's staying." the guard answered brusquely.

"I appreciate it Annie, but just get out of here before something else happens. You have a kid to get back to." Emily said, taking the opportunity to stretch her legs and arms.

Who knew how long she'd be out of that room for, and how long she'd be back inside it?
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Make-7-Up-Yours
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Is that so?
Willow's heart was racing in her chest. She needed to help Brandon. She needed to. He was out there, alone, and in danger. What sort of girlfriend would she be if she stood back and did nothing for him now?

She ran to the back room where she had slept the night before. She knew it wasn't good for her, but she did it anyway. Her weapons were where she had left them, laying against the wall a few feet from where she had slept. She ran over to them.

Damn... She found herself pondering as she picked up her signature Ruger Gunsite. It's really hot in here...

Even though they were approaching winter and she was barely wearing clothes above the waist, there was a thin layer of sweat covering her skin. In the past few minutes, she had started burning up like. It was a feeling she remembered all too clearly from the train car in Salt Lake City. A rising discomfort in her stomach only confirmed her fear; she lurched forward, catching herself on the wall.

"HHYUUUUAAAK!"

Her stomach wretched violently, but nothing came out.

"HHYUUUUAAAK!"

She desperately wanted to vomit, but nothing was coming. Her empty stomach painfully convulsed as she tried to vomit, but found herself unable to. The effort proved so overwhelming that her legs wavered and became unable to hold her -- she slipped and fell onto her hands and knees, the weapon she was holding moments ago falling to the ground beside her. A bead of sweat dripped off her forehead and onto the rug beneath her.

DAMMIT!

The dry heaving had stopped, but Willow found herself staring at the ground, a weakness wracking her body that made it difficult to move. Her head was spinning so much that she wasn't even sure she'd be able to stand. But she had to. Brandon was in danger. He needed her. Through sheer willpower, she pushed back to her feet. She was going to help him. She didn't give a damn about her injuries or her withdrawal symptoms.

Wilma Lowe managed to take a single step forward before her vision faded and everything went black.

* * * * *

Antonio was relieved to see the two women safe and unharmed. He trusted Saxon, but his people were tense. He was glad to see they hadn't taken that tension out on their prisoners. It was a welcome change from the people they had met so far.

"We'll get Emily out of here, don't worry." Antonio assured the doubtful Annie. "I promise."
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Emmett felt helpless as he watched Willow head into his room to fetch her weapon. He remembered how he failed to protect Willow in the New Dawn depot back in Salt Lake City. He felt like he was failing her all over again.

He looked back to the Kelly’s. Ruby and Riley were staring at him – Ruby with worry, Riley with a harsher look. Emmett didn’t react to either woman. It didn’t matter how they felt. He told Hank he would protect them, so that’s what he would do.

Except… where’s Willow?

It shouldn’t taking her so long to find her rifle. Emmett was concerned. He lifted himself off the couch with a groan, and went to check on her. He found he was right to be concerned. She was on the ground, her eyes were closed. He rushed over to her.

He lifted her chin – still breathing, he found. Pulse is fine.

She had passed out. Of course she did – she was still sick, he knew that, he shouldn’t have even thought of letting her go. If only the situation wasn’t so desperate.

Connor, impatient, burst into the room after them. He saw Willow in the same condition. A deep frown passed over his face. He raised his arms and balled his fists and shifted in place, clearly at a loss for what to do.

“Is she going to be okay?” Connor asked.

“I don’t know,” Emmett gave him the honest answer. “I think so.”

Connor bent over again and closed his eyes, still breathing heavy, now probably thinking heavy too. When he opened his eyes and stood up, he still looked unsure, but less unsure.

“Fine, fine – I’ll go by myself,” he said. “I need…”

He paused to look around, and then sprinted out of the room.

“I need a rifle!” he yelled. “And all the ammo we have!”

* * *

Annie was hesitant, but Emily’s assurance – followed by Antonio’s – was enough to sway her.

“Okay,” she conceded to Emily, as she looked her in the eye. “But we’ll be back. I promise, too. Stay strong.”

She felt guilty looking on the bright side while leaving Emily behind, but Annie was already grateful to be out of that cramped space. She’d had enough captivity over the last couple days for a lifetime. She was also looking forward to seeing her son in person after such a rough night – he must have been really worried about her by now.

* * *

Hank motored towards the casino at highway speeds, slowing down only on turns. He wanted to get there fast. Both because the situation was urgent, and because it would give him less time to obsess about how he had gotten himself involved in such a situation yet again, despite trying his best not to.

He just hoped Saxon’s people wouldn’t do anything dramatic when they saw his car approach. They seemed like reasonable people on that clean-up run he did with them, but by now he knew that 'seems' was worth nothing at all.

The Red Lion came into view down a clear-street, and Hank pressed his palm down on his car horn. He wanted their attention. He didn’t want there to chance surprising them and setting them off, and he needed to speak with someone as soon as possible.
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
"I don't mean to be rude, but there is still the matter of-" Saxon began but was quickly cut off by an urgent report.

"Another car approaching eastbound at high speed, single occupant, male!" Jake's voice blared over the radio.

The guards present didn't need any orders, Emily noticed their grips tighten on their weapons and their stance shift. Saxon eyed Antonio quizzically for a moment before speaking into the radio.

"I want everyone to hold their fire unless fired upon first, understood?" Saxon said.

"I'm going to have to ask you all to stay here a moment longer while I go see what this is all about." he explained, though it was anything but a request.

...

Brandon kept putting all his weight behind the barricade he'd set up. The window was broken, but the table and fridge kept the majority of the opening blocked. there was a gap though, and it was enough for the more slender rotters to squeeze through if they could manage it. He noticed an arm reaching in and decided he'd need to do something about defending himself.

There was a kitchenette he could see a microwave, a cheap kettle and a toaster. Not great. There might have been something in the cupboards and drawers though. Whatever he found he'd have to find it fast, if that rotter wormed its way in he'd be defenseless otherwise, and without him pushing against the barricade the others might be able to force their way in.

He lunged toward the kitchenette and started throwing open drawers. Cups and mugs, trash bags, butter knives in the drawers, there were some very thin looking steak knives that might have to do. Behind him he heard the rotter that was reaching in finally squirmed past the blockage and fall to the ground on its face. Brandon grabbed the microwave, the only heavy thing he could see and pulled it off the counter. Just as the rotter began to lift its head Brandon brought the microwave down, creating a gruesome splatter on the floor.

Brandon noticed the barricade shifting and threw his weight behind it again.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Hank slammed the brakes and came to a full stop in front of the casino. Quickly, he put the car in park, turned the keys, and pulled the door handle. He stepped into the sunlight with his hands high above his head.

“I need to speak to Saxon!” he announced immediately, to whoever was around and listening.

He didn’t know Saxon personally – he just knew Hunter and Dwight, barely, from the clean-up job he went on with them – but he knew he was the leader. He was the guy that needed this information.

“I know who robbed you!”

* * *

Connor thought he was exhausted after the run back to the safe-house. It turned out he wasn’t. It turned out, he did have some gas left in the tank. But not anymore. After running back to Walmart, now with a heavy AR-15, his tank was truly empty. Now he knew what it meant to be exhausted.

Still, Brandon was relying on him. And he was in trouble. To Connor’s horror, a swarming mass of rotters had converged on his location. Connor realized this as he approached the store. They were agitated and active, clearly after something alive. Connor chose to believe that something was Brandon. He couldn’t let himself think about anything alternative.

Connor summoned the strength to raise the assault rifle, aiming it up at the eye-level of the average rotter. They hadn’t noticed him yet creeping up behind them. That was about to change.

He winced –

BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG!
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Strompy
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Hank was met by steely silence and a few unsure glances. A few moment s later Saxon emerged from the small group of guards at the entrance, exposing himself against Byron's advice. He hadn't met this man before but his people informed him who he was. He found this situation to be suspect.

"Well I'm all ears if you have something important to say, Mr. Kelly." Saxon said, a little dubious.

...

Brandon panted heavily as he delivered the final blow to another rotter. Three more had managed to wriggle their way in one at a time. He'd used the kettle to bludgeon one to death but it wasn't an ideal weapon. Fortunately he'd found a cheap frying pan in the cupboard, but after the last two rotters the handle had given out and it wasn't much help anymore. And another rotter had just squeezed through. He sighed in despair as the barricade gave way.

Eaten alive in the break room of a Walmart. He was too tired, and too used to all this shit by now to reflect on how unworthy an end that was. With the ease of somebody who knew he was in for a doomed fight he walked over to the cupboard and took out another of those cheap pans, even smaller than the last, but at least it would offer a harder edge than his bare hands.

He picked up a chair with his left hand, he could use it to keep one or two of them at arms length, maybe he'd get a few more kills in before they pulled him apart. Shouldn't think about that for too long. He barreled into the first, pinning it against the wall with the chair and raining two savage blow to its head. It wasn't enough to finish it, the hands of another rotter scratched at his back and he turned to deflect it, pushing the thing back into the small number of rotters behind it and turning his attention back to the one he'd just struck. He finished it off with an impatient few blows. The next few moments were a blur of desperate wild swings, he yelled and shoved and kicked.

Then he heard shots. And so did the rotters. The ones already in the room with him didn't care, they had their eyes on food, but outside he could see the mass responding. Like a beam of light he could see an opening now. Suddenly he couldn't help but think about everything he still had to live for and his feral anger was replaced by fear. He couldn't die like this. There were four of the things in the room with him, maybe another couple dozen outside. The gun. His gun was still being used to stop the door. Using the chair he shoved the clumsy rotters back and made a break for the window, barreling into another one on the other side. He pushed it to the ground and looked for his gun. A bullet impacted against the wall, whoever was shooting was really unloading, he could see a couple downed rotters through the throng already. Brandon reached his gun and pulled it free. The telescopic stock was bent, but it'd still fire. He joined the opened fire on the closest rotter to him, joining the racket being created.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
“His name is Donnie,” Hank answered Saxon immediately. He spoke his next words fast but clearly, and tried to sound calmer than he was – “He’s part of the group that arrived before us. It was him and his nephew, Alex. They ran into Brandon and Connor at a Walmart – Connor is Annie’s kid, your people have met him. They confessed, then took Brandon captive. Connor escaped and told us. I came straight here.”

He stopped talking, and looked to Saxon for his reaction.

* * *

A click sound marked the end of the hail of bullets. Connor wasn’t sure how many rotters he’d killed with them – at least a couple, it looked like, but nowhere near enough, not even close.

The swarm of living dead had turned their attention from the store to him, and were now shambling in his direction. He started backing up without turning around. He ejected the magazine from the rifle, and reached into his pockets for the replacement. It slid out of his sweaty grasp and onto the ground. He had to stop moving and bend over to pick it up, giving the swarm a couple precious seconds to close the gap between him and then.

Calling on Brandon’s instruction, he managed to slide the new magazine into place. When he looked up again, the nearest rotters were pretty damn near. He raised the rifle again.

He was still in his gore suit, but it didn’t matter now. The rotters knew he was alive. And they were almost on him.

BANGBANGBANG!

He let loose a burst at the closest rotters face, turning it into mush. It collapsed face-first, landing only inches from Connor’s feet. He kept backing up.

He thought he could hear other gunshots, not created by him. His heart was beating too loud in his ears for him to be positive, but it gave him hope his distraction was working. It added to his resolve.

BANGBANGBANG!

Another rotter fell. Connor backed up some more. Then –

Oof!

Before he realized what was happening, he had tripped over something and fallen on his back. He had lost his grip on his rifle. The shadows of the approaching swarm was upon him.

He sat up, and frantically felt around for the weapon he had dropped. He found it and reached for it, just as a rotter – a big one, with a big shadow – towered over him. From a sitting position, he recovered his oversized gun and aimed it upwards.

BANGBANGBANG!

The bullets entered through the roof of the rotter’s open mouth and exited out its skull. It collapsed forward, face-first just like the last one. It landed on top of Connor, pinning him to the ground. He couldn’t move.

More rotters surrounded him, blocking out the sun.
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Strompy
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By the time Brandon reached Connor he'd lost all feeling in his arms and legs. He'd emerged from the store expecting to see a few shooters but all he could see was Connor alone, with a hoard of rotters coming at him. Brandon immediately began running to him and calling out, Connor didn't seem to notice. And then Connor fell. If Brandon had thought he was running on fumes before he shatered that as he dropped his gun and charged blindly towards Connor's position.

He couldn't do much more than barrel into the rotters, sending them staggering back. With one foot he pushed the rotter on Connor to the side. Rotters grabbed at him and it was all he could do to hold them off, shoving them, tripping them. There were more and more closing in from every direction, they were rapidly losing any prospect of escape. The gunfire would have alerted hundreds of rotters potentially. Also would have alerted people. All they needed was a little time and an opening. Brandon tripped a rotter and fell to the ground with it, that's when he saw the comparatively clear path back to the store. If they could secure themselves in a room there that should buy them the time until rescue.

"Inside! Get back... inside!" he wheezed at Connor.

...

"I don't mean to accuse you of lying. Perhaps that's just what you've been told but I can assure you it isn't the case. We've done a head count and locked this place down tighter than a steel trap. I appreciate your good inten... tions..." Saxon trailed off as one of the guards ran back inside after turning white as a sheet.

"Oh shit..." the man whispered before running off.

"Byron?" Saxon asked.

"I'll see what that's about." Byron said before going to question the man.

A few awkwardly silent moments passed as Saxon waited for Byron to return. Byron's expression was severe but also slightly apologetic when he came back. He leaned in and whispered something to Saxon. Saxon's typical reservedness disappeared.

"What!?" he roared.

Saxon turned to Hank, at a loss for words, somewhere between outrage and utter humiliation. He was about to speak when the sound of gunfire disrupted the meeting. For a moment Saxon simply looked between his people, Hank and the direction of the gunfire. Finally;

"Dwight. Assemble your best people. Hunter, is that machine of yours ready?" he spoke into the radio.

"The Beast is ready to roll." Hunter answered.

"Mister Kelly, if you could follow me I'd like to explain what's going on to you and your people."
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Darkness.

Trapped under the rotter corpse, Connor couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t move, either, the rotter was too heavy to budge.

He could hear, though – could hear a cacophony of hungry moaning as the dead converged around him. Connor had to consider that this was it. That he couldn’t move the body on top of him, but maybe a rotter could, and then he’d be defenseless. Then one bite. That’s all it would take. Confronted with that imminent possibility, he froze up. He was paralyzed by fear as well as the crushing weight on top of him.

Then light. There was a whir of motion, the crushing weight disappeared, and he could see the sun again. Then more motion. Not rotters.

Connor’s senses took a few moments to snap back into place before he realized he was free, and that Brandon was there – he was flailing around, somehow keeping the swarm at bay. He heard the word ”Inside!” through his haze. He rolled over, climbed to his knees, then his feet.

His rifle was lost somewhere in the crowd now, and he only spared a second to look around for it before giving up. There was a path to the store, he focused on that instead. He started scrambling in that direction.

* * *

Hank grimaced – first at Saxon’s outburst, then at the sound of gunfire, and finally at Saxon’s invitation. 'Your people,' he said. Hank didn’t mean to be the representative for this group, but here he was.

He gave the wheelchair-bound man a resigned nod.

“Okay," he said.
Edited by DoctorYerishi, Jul 3 2018, 05:06 PM.
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