Jones’s feet were darting through the dirt the very moment everyone ran into the camp.
Lance’s diversion seemed to be working-- whatever it was he was doing, she hoped he would keep it up as she rushed to the barbed wire fence, and entered through the unguarded opening. She glanced around, and her breathing was already quick-- unrelated to the running she had just done.
Her eyes flicked from here to there.
The camp seemed well established like the cultists had set up the place and lived there for plenty of years; which, she was sure they had. She crouched, scuttled behind a small building, and tried to gather her bearings-- tried to ignore the shouts of anger and rushing movement heading toward the stage. She peeked around the corner, just spying a horde of people mobbing something --no, someone-- in front of them, on the center stage.
That had to be Lance. Her eyes went wide but she tightened her jaw. He was an absolute nut taking those people head on-- and she needed to finish this quickly before the cultists finished him.
She moved her eyes from the swarm and caught sight of the gas station.
That was where she needed to be.
That’s where she was moving now, as she stood up and dog-trotted to the standing pumps.
The explosives had become nothing more than a faint weight in her hands as she traveled, psyching herself up so she could go through everything-- so she wouldn’t hightail it and keep herself out of this trouble… though she really wanted to.
She wasn’t some super soldier, or crazed war deviant-- she disliked combat to some extent-- but she did what she needed to, and she did it fiercely-- despite the distress it usually caused.
While the music continued to blast, nagging Jones-- urking her with its strange taunting of repetitive rhythms-- she was able to make her way to the pumps at last, and she wasted no time placing each bomb at the foot of each machine. That was the easy part, as she put the last explosive to rest and wondered how she was supposed to get the gasoline.
She doubted the few cars that laid near the pumps had a drop left. They seemed to have combusted long ago, leaving only the framework of the burnt vehicles.
She tried her most obvious option first, unhooking the pump’s nozzle from the holder and gripping the trigger. Nothing came out. She even shook the hose a few times for good measure but ended up throwing the damn thing in frustration. “Petrol lines must be controlled somewhere else…”
She didn’t have time for this. No one had time for this. Her shiv slipped into her palm, out from her waistband, and the young woman wasn’t even thinking --she just needed something to work. Anything.
The makeshift blade rammed into the tank, barely making a dent. She kept at it, shoving the shiv into the machine until finally, a tiny hole made its way through the rusted material-- which undoubtedly allowed her ‘plan’ to work. The nick she had managed was far too small for gas to leak, but dammit, it was something. Jones just needed something bigger, something stronger to further puncture the tank. She desperately looked around her before lo and behold, a screwdriver laid in her view, just under one of the ruined cars, probably used to dismantle the scrap metal and take whatever could be salvaged.
She scrambled for it, practically sliding under the car just to grab it. But just as she did-- someone grabbed her.
It was a hand-- it definitely was-- and it was rough as it snatched her by the pit of her knee, tugging her from under the car like a weightless sack. She didn’t even scream because she had a habit of letting her jaw lock when she was surprised.
“The hell ‘re ya doin’ here ya little-”
Jones flipped onto her back violently, her shiv squeezed in her hand with nothing less than an iron grip. She asked no questions and slammed the knife through the person’s hand. The tip of the blade skimmed her leg-- she wrenched it back.
The person -the man- hollered out loud, but it was drowned by the music and the roaring mob. He ripped his wounded limb away from her, crying out in absolute agony, not even concerned of her presence anymore as he nursed his bleeding gash. Jones didn’t miss a beat. As her heart hammered in her throat, choking her with adrenaline, she stuck her arm under the car and took the screwdriver.
Then like a frantic animal, she clammered away on unsteady legs and shoved the new tool into the hole she had left. Due to its stronger material and angled head, the screwdriver immediately pierced through the rusted metal of the pump, and like a spring, gasoline poured forth from it, coating the ground and the lunch box with its potent solution. She rushed to do the same to the others, horribly desperate to hurry.
She needed to get back to her mother. She had to relieve Lance from his ongoing battle.
She jammed the tool head into the next machine, forcing it through the machine until petrol flowed. She went on until she was nearly exhausted.
Finally, she got to the last one, hitting it as hard as she could until she was shoved by the shoulder.
She was put on her ass, and before she could raise her hand to defend, the screwdriver was struck from her grasp.
The tool flew from her and she took a hard blow to the mouth.
The pain was immediate as a callused fist rocked her, and her own teeth seared through the meat of her lip, while the man -who had grabbed her before- took her down.
They wrestled in the dirt. Both of them were rolling-- dirtying themselves with the dust on the ground and the blood that leaked from their gashes, until they looked like prowlers back from a hunt.
The man; who wasn’t even bigger than her-- let alone any older-- kept his hold on her tight, though that was all he could do- as his other hand was completely pierced through. She struggled with vigor, slamming her fists against him. And yet, he managed to stay on top, cursing and yelling with a raucous accent, “Dammit girl! Feckin’ stay still!”
But Jones unsurprisingly refused, and when she was able to kick him away for a moment, she reached and grabbed whatever she could touch, and cracked the man against the head with it.
With a powerful twitch, the man tumbled to his side with a bleeding forehead; however, he was still very aware and very angry. But Jones wasn’t letting him have another chance to wrestle her-- she could feel herself growing weary-- and God only knew how Lance was faring.
With the grace of a drunken man, the woman dove and hooked her arm around his neck, tugging him hard, until he tumbled and rolled partially on her-- his back against her chest as she choked him.
His good hand clawed at her arm, ripping at her skin with dirty, unclipped nails, while he struggled and writhed from under her grasp. They were both twisting-- both heaving like wild beasts-- yet for completely different reasons. Every time he jerked, she pulled tighter, clenched harder, bared her teeth until she was yelling out, “LANCE! LANCE!”
She doubted he would hear, but with the situation she was stuck in, she really doubted she’d be setting off those bombs soon. She just hoped Lance could make it out, while she finished up here…
She wouldn’t kill this man, but he would sure wish she had.
Lance’s diversion seemed to be working-- whatever it was he was doing, she hoped he would keep it up as she rushed to the barbed wire fence, and entered through the unguarded opening. She glanced around, and her breathing was already quick-- unrelated to the running she had just done.
Her eyes flicked from here to there.
The camp seemed well established like the cultists had set up the place and lived there for plenty of years; which, she was sure they had. She crouched, scuttled behind a small building, and tried to gather her bearings-- tried to ignore the shouts of anger and rushing movement heading toward the stage. She peeked around the corner, just spying a horde of people mobbing something --no, someone-- in front of them, on the center stage.
That had to be Lance. Her eyes went wide but she tightened her jaw. He was an absolute nut taking those people head on-- and she needed to finish this quickly before the cultists finished him.
She moved her eyes from the swarm and caught sight of the gas station.
That was where she needed to be.
That’s where she was moving now, as she stood up and dog-trotted to the standing pumps.
The explosives had become nothing more than a faint weight in her hands as she traveled, psyching herself up so she could go through everything-- so she wouldn’t hightail it and keep herself out of this trouble… though she really wanted to.
She wasn’t some super soldier, or crazed war deviant-- she disliked combat to some extent-- but she did what she needed to, and she did it fiercely-- despite the distress it usually caused.
While the music continued to blast, nagging Jones-- urking her with its strange taunting of repetitive rhythms-- she was able to make her way to the pumps at last, and she wasted no time placing each bomb at the foot of each machine. That was the easy part, as she put the last explosive to rest and wondered how she was supposed to get the gasoline.
She doubted the few cars that laid near the pumps had a drop left. They seemed to have combusted long ago, leaving only the framework of the burnt vehicles.
She tried her most obvious option first, unhooking the pump’s nozzle from the holder and gripping the trigger. Nothing came out. She even shook the hose a few times for good measure but ended up throwing the damn thing in frustration. “Petrol lines must be controlled somewhere else…”
She didn’t have time for this. No one had time for this. Her shiv slipped into her palm, out from her waistband, and the young woman wasn’t even thinking --she just needed something to work. Anything.
The makeshift blade rammed into the tank, barely making a dent. She kept at it, shoving the shiv into the machine until finally, a tiny hole made its way through the rusted material-- which undoubtedly allowed her ‘plan’ to work. The nick she had managed was far too small for gas to leak, but dammit, it was something. Jones just needed something bigger, something stronger to further puncture the tank. She desperately looked around her before lo and behold, a screwdriver laid in her view, just under one of the ruined cars, probably used to dismantle the scrap metal and take whatever could be salvaged.
She scrambled for it, practically sliding under the car just to grab it. But just as she did-- someone grabbed her.
It was a hand-- it definitely was-- and it was rough as it snatched her by the pit of her knee, tugging her from under the car like a weightless sack. She didn’t even scream because she had a habit of letting her jaw lock when she was surprised.
“The hell ‘re ya doin’ here ya little-”
Jones flipped onto her back violently, her shiv squeezed in her hand with nothing less than an iron grip. She asked no questions and slammed the knife through the person’s hand. The tip of the blade skimmed her leg-- she wrenched it back.
The person -the man- hollered out loud, but it was drowned by the music and the roaring mob. He ripped his wounded limb away from her, crying out in absolute agony, not even concerned of her presence anymore as he nursed his bleeding gash. Jones didn’t miss a beat. As her heart hammered in her throat, choking her with adrenaline, she stuck her arm under the car and took the screwdriver.
Then like a frantic animal, she clammered away on unsteady legs and shoved the new tool into the hole she had left. Due to its stronger material and angled head, the screwdriver immediately pierced through the rusted metal of the pump, and like a spring, gasoline poured forth from it, coating the ground and the lunch box with its potent solution. She rushed to do the same to the others, horribly desperate to hurry.
She needed to get back to her mother. She had to relieve Lance from his ongoing battle.
She jammed the tool head into the next machine, forcing it through the machine until petrol flowed. She went on until she was nearly exhausted.
Finally, she got to the last one, hitting it as hard as she could until she was shoved by the shoulder.
She was put on her ass, and before she could raise her hand to defend, the screwdriver was struck from her grasp.
The tool flew from her and she took a hard blow to the mouth.
The pain was immediate as a callused fist rocked her, and her own teeth seared through the meat of her lip, while the man -who had grabbed her before- took her down.
They wrestled in the dirt. Both of them were rolling-- dirtying themselves with the dust on the ground and the blood that leaked from their gashes, until they looked like prowlers back from a hunt.
The man; who wasn’t even bigger than her-- let alone any older-- kept his hold on her tight, though that was all he could do- as his other hand was completely pierced through. She struggled with vigor, slamming her fists against him. And yet, he managed to stay on top, cursing and yelling with a raucous accent, “Dammit girl! Feckin’ stay still!”
But Jones unsurprisingly refused, and when she was able to kick him away for a moment, she reached and grabbed whatever she could touch, and cracked the man against the head with it.
With a powerful twitch, the man tumbled to his side with a bleeding forehead; however, he was still very aware and very angry. But Jones wasn’t letting him have another chance to wrestle her-- she could feel herself growing weary-- and God only knew how Lance was faring.
With the grace of a drunken man, the woman dove and hooked her arm around his neck, tugging him hard, until he tumbled and rolled partially on her-- his back against her chest as she choked him.
His good hand clawed at her arm, ripping at her skin with dirty, unclipped nails, while he struggled and writhed from under her grasp. They were both twisting-- both heaving like wild beasts-- yet for completely different reasons. Every time he jerked, she pulled tighter, clenched harder, bared her teeth until she was yelling out, “LANCE! LANCE!”
She doubted he would hear, but with the situation she was stuck in, she really doubted she’d be setting off those bombs soon. She just hoped Lance could make it out, while she finished up here…
She wouldn’t kill this man, but he would sure wish she had.
From the chaos Lances eyes glanced at two things, the first, Samuel, who was being hauled away to a dune buggy and escorted out."That bastard..."He said to himself as he fought. The second was Jones, struggling in her battle with the cultist.
One thing was apparent, quick action was needed, and it was going to have to be reckless, as he had no time to think. His eyes focused back in front of him as a man charged at him with a fork in his hand. Lance raised his bat high in the air and slung his arm down, smashing through his skull with a loud crunch, and adding to the amount of those he killed in the past few minutes.
His hands danced around his side as he pulled out his shot gun and quickly aimed it at the crowd, who he had bottle necked in front of him, the crowd had dwindled down to about 10 people at this point, some fled the scene along with Samuel. With his bat, still in hand, he crashed it down onto the record playing the music, causing the loud music to abruptly stop and send a eerie silence to the scene."STOP!"He roared to them. The crowd saw his shot gun and halted in their place. His gun held 4 rounds, and with the way the bullets spread, it was more then capable of killing, if not at least injuring everyone in its radius, and it was as if the crowd had seen him do such things before, as they seemed to scared to move after seeing the beast of a weapon.
Lance stared at them, breathing heavily, with his body waving up and down in exhaustion, and sweat draining from every pour. His eyes gazed at a man, who had a bottle of vodka in his hand, which he seemed to want to use to break over Lances head."You! Give me that Vodka!"He shouted at him. The man stared shocked and unmoving, not sure what to make of the situation."NOW!"He shouted at the man once more. The mans hands scurried to the ground as he rolled the bottle to him.
Lance lowered down, keeping his aim on the people, as he grabbed the bottle and popped it open. He tilted the bottle over and drained out some of the liquid. He latched the bat around his belt buckle, and pulled a oiled rag from his back pocket, and stuffed it in the bottle, all the while keeping his gun steadied on the people.
The moment was silent for a while, the only noise being the mans struggling from Jone's grip
Lance slowly set the bottle on the ground, again, keeping his aim, and reached for his knife, retrieved a match from its handle, struck it on his jacket, and lit the rag in the bottle, before he picked the bottle back up, holding it the palm of his hand.
The moment was silent and still, before Lance tightly squeezed the trigger to his gun, and the silence shattered in a loud burst from the shot gun. It was unlike any thing ever heard or seen, the blast was terrifying and loud, and the smoke rose up from the barrel creating more confusion and intimidation, guns like this where so rare these days, that they seemed like monsters to people, tools of mass destruction, and who ever wields one, a genuine one like his, not one made of pipes and duct tape, wielded what seemed to some, as a harbinger of end times.
Several people in the crowd fell victim to the spread shot of the gun, as the fell back, into the people behind them, their chest red and bloody from being pelted by the bullets.
Lance took the disorientating moment, to make a dead sprint for Jones, using all the energy he had left in his body. He hopped from the stage and to the ground, and clambered his feet to Jones.
The people soon saw Lance make a run for it, and tried to get themselves back together to go chase him down now that he wasnt aiming the gun at them
Lance swiftly approached Jones, and with a wide motion of his fist, he clobbered the man, who Jones was holding, in his jaw, the sound of his leather gloves smashing against his soft cheeks accompanied the blow., hoping to knock him out.
Without thinking of rather or not she would take kindly to his next action, and frankly he didnt care, he wanted to do what he needed to get her out safely, he wrapped a arm around her waist and hauled her up, using what strength he had. He turned his head, seeing the crowd jumping form the stage and to them, and dug his foot into the dirt and started to run, with her in his arms.
As he did he turned around for a moment, and chucked the flaming bottle of vodka at the explosives she doused in gas, and quickly turned back and sprinted for the exit
The time between them running out, and the flame igniting the explosives, was extremely short, Lances foot barely touching the outside of the gate before the bottle smashed into the ground, and sparked flames along the gas, and by the time Lance was just barely outside the gate, the station erupted into a loud explosion. The explosion was almost ear deafening, and the flames rose high in the sky, and pushed a forceful wind to the backs of Lance and Jones, causing them to fall over. Lance covered Jones slightly as the descended to the ground.
The ground rumbled and the sky almost seemed to split before the explosion died down, and things began to settle a little.
Dust fluttered all around them for a moment along with the subtle glow of the flames that replaced the gas station, and hub cap landed just by them, barley missing Lance.
As the dust settled, and it was apparent they where not dead, Lance rolled over on his back, and managed a laugh out of his exhausted body."Oh my god...I am never going to be able to pull that off...again...."He said through his depleted lungs. He raised his head up a little, seeing nothing but charred and burning bodies, and structures, they did a fine work of clearing everyone out, even if the leader got away.
He looked back to Jones as he caught his breath."You okay?"He asked as he tried to sit him self up a bit more
One thing was apparent, quick action was needed, and it was going to have to be reckless, as he had no time to think. His eyes focused back in front of him as a man charged at him with a fork in his hand. Lance raised his bat high in the air and slung his arm down, smashing through his skull with a loud crunch, and adding to the amount of those he killed in the past few minutes.
His hands danced around his side as he pulled out his shot gun and quickly aimed it at the crowd, who he had bottle necked in front of him, the crowd had dwindled down to about 10 people at this point, some fled the scene along with Samuel. With his bat, still in hand, he crashed it down onto the record playing the music, causing the loud music to abruptly stop and send a eerie silence to the scene."STOP!"He roared to them. The crowd saw his shot gun and halted in their place. His gun held 4 rounds, and with the way the bullets spread, it was more then capable of killing, if not at least injuring everyone in its radius, and it was as if the crowd had seen him do such things before, as they seemed to scared to move after seeing the beast of a weapon.
Lance stared at them, breathing heavily, with his body waving up and down in exhaustion, and sweat draining from every pour. His eyes gazed at a man, who had a bottle of vodka in his hand, which he seemed to want to use to break over Lances head."You! Give me that Vodka!"He shouted at him. The man stared shocked and unmoving, not sure what to make of the situation."NOW!"He shouted at the man once more. The mans hands scurried to the ground as he rolled the bottle to him.
Lance lowered down, keeping his aim on the people, as he grabbed the bottle and popped it open. He tilted the bottle over and drained out some of the liquid. He latched the bat around his belt buckle, and pulled a oiled rag from his back pocket, and stuffed it in the bottle, all the while keeping his gun steadied on the people.
The moment was silent for a while, the only noise being the mans struggling from Jone's grip
Lance slowly set the bottle on the ground, again, keeping his aim, and reached for his knife, retrieved a match from its handle, struck it on his jacket, and lit the rag in the bottle, before he picked the bottle back up, holding it the palm of his hand.
The moment was silent and still, before Lance tightly squeezed the trigger to his gun, and the silence shattered in a loud burst from the shot gun. It was unlike any thing ever heard or seen, the blast was terrifying and loud, and the smoke rose up from the barrel creating more confusion and intimidation, guns like this where so rare these days, that they seemed like monsters to people, tools of mass destruction, and who ever wields one, a genuine one like his, not one made of pipes and duct tape, wielded what seemed to some, as a harbinger of end times.
Several people in the crowd fell victim to the spread shot of the gun, as the fell back, into the people behind them, their chest red and bloody from being pelted by the bullets.
Lance took the disorientating moment, to make a dead sprint for Jones, using all the energy he had left in his body. He hopped from the stage and to the ground, and clambered his feet to Jones.
The people soon saw Lance make a run for it, and tried to get themselves back together to go chase him down now that he wasnt aiming the gun at them
Lance swiftly approached Jones, and with a wide motion of his fist, he clobbered the man, who Jones was holding, in his jaw, the sound of his leather gloves smashing against his soft cheeks accompanied the blow., hoping to knock him out.
Without thinking of rather or not she would take kindly to his next action, and frankly he didnt care, he wanted to do what he needed to get her out safely, he wrapped a arm around her waist and hauled her up, using what strength he had. He turned his head, seeing the crowd jumping form the stage and to them, and dug his foot into the dirt and started to run, with her in his arms.
As he did he turned around for a moment, and chucked the flaming bottle of vodka at the explosives she doused in gas, and quickly turned back and sprinted for the exit
The time between them running out, and the flame igniting the explosives, was extremely short, Lances foot barely touching the outside of the gate before the bottle smashed into the ground, and sparked flames along the gas, and by the time Lance was just barely outside the gate, the station erupted into a loud explosion. The explosion was almost ear deafening, and the flames rose high in the sky, and pushed a forceful wind to the backs of Lance and Jones, causing them to fall over. Lance covered Jones slightly as the descended to the ground.
The ground rumbled and the sky almost seemed to split before the explosion died down, and things began to settle a little.
Dust fluttered all around them for a moment along with the subtle glow of the flames that replaced the gas station, and hub cap landed just by them, barley missing Lance.
As the dust settled, and it was apparent they where not dead, Lance rolled over on his back, and managed a laugh out of his exhausted body."Oh my god...I am never going to be able to pull that off...again...."He said through his depleted lungs. He raised his head up a little, seeing nothing but charred and burning bodies, and structures, they did a fine work of clearing everyone out, even if the leader got away.
He looked back to Jones as he caught his breath."You okay?"He asked as he tried to sit him self up a bit more
The explosion ripped through the air, tearing the quietness apart, shaking the ground like a rippling earthquake, and clawing through the campsite with a mighty bellow of release.
Jones groaned the moment her back hit the dirt and she shielded her eyes with an arm, surprised when Lance covered her from the sputtering dust and debris that rushed at them in the fierce aftermath.
It was a long time before the smut cleared from the valley, floating high above them, and when Lance fell to his back --Jones could feel her heart race-- she listened to the blood pump in her ears, even as they rang from the blast, and she was terrified.
The adrenaline that rushed through her before, had all but left, and now she was just exhausted from everything. That was the most mental thing she had ever done, there was no experience on Earth she could compare this task to-- and yet, she could only wonder how the rest of them would go. Working with Lance was bound to get her screwed over, or even killed.
She decided to swallow those thoughts when she heard the young man laugh and mutter to himself, seeming to re-enter the world as it was. He looked at her, and she could hear him catching his breath while he sat up, asking her, “You okay?”
She nodded stiffly and sat up herself, straining from the fatigue. She was sure she could stay right there on the ground and fall asleep, but that was a poor idea, as well as embarrassing.
“I--” She winced when a sharp pain pierced through her mouth, and she remembered her lip. She touched her chin and forced it one way just to assess the damage. Her molar made a strange crunching noise, but it wasn’t much to worry about, she was sure of it...
She swiped at her torn lip and wiped the blood onto the leg of her pants, adding onto the other dried droplets from the cultist’s hand.
“I’m okay.” she managed to say, before forcing herself onto her feet, somehow maintaining balance as she looked at the area they had just destroyed. The silhouette of charred bodies still burning in the campsite made Jones feel null, even knowing that she had been a cause to these people’s deaths, the fact that she hadn’t been the one to set of the explosives somehow… distanced their deaths from her conscience. She was glad it felt like such because she was sure she wouldn’t be able to handle the weight.
Shifting her jaw sorely, she looked at Lance and spoke, “We should get going now… it- it’s late and I’m sure someone will be out here.”
She walked back to the hill, straining to climb it before actually making it to the top. When she did, her mother opened the car door and came out to greet them.
“I heard an explosion. What the hell happened down there?” Farrah pestered with concern as she inspected Jones’s face and pressed a napkin from her pocket onto her daughter’s busted lip. Her mother, though very loving and kind, was never the one to go to for comforting.
She was a hardy woman who taught Jones how to tough it out, how to get over the little things and not to nurse cuts like lesions.
She wasted no time inspecting Jones’s darkening bruise across her jaw, while letting the young woman handle applying pressure to her lip as she answered, “Those were the bombs we set up, we blew the camp to hell, those guys… they’re not coming back.”
Farrah looked Jones in the eye for a second before shaking her head, “You two…” she paused with a harsh intake of breath, “You both must be tired.” she said eventually. Jones frowned when her mother released her chin and looked around. She could tell that Farrah wanted to say something to rebuke their actions, to tell them that what they did was brash or stupid or something along those lines-- but she didn’t.
She watched her mother walk away, and Jones could feel her shoulders sink with fatigue. While Farrah spoke aloud, “Why don’t you two rest up? I’ll drive us back, if you don’t mind it, Lance.”, Jones opened the back door of the car and slumped into the seat.
Her eyes closed the moment she put her head against the cushion-- but she knew, sleep would escape her tonight.
Jones groaned the moment her back hit the dirt and she shielded her eyes with an arm, surprised when Lance covered her from the sputtering dust and debris that rushed at them in the fierce aftermath.
It was a long time before the smut cleared from the valley, floating high above them, and when Lance fell to his back --Jones could feel her heart race-- she listened to the blood pump in her ears, even as they rang from the blast, and she was terrified.
The adrenaline that rushed through her before, had all but left, and now she was just exhausted from everything. That was the most mental thing she had ever done, there was no experience on Earth she could compare this task to-- and yet, she could only wonder how the rest of them would go. Working with Lance was bound to get her screwed over, or even killed.
She decided to swallow those thoughts when she heard the young man laugh and mutter to himself, seeming to re-enter the world as it was. He looked at her, and she could hear him catching his breath while he sat up, asking her, “You okay?”
She nodded stiffly and sat up herself, straining from the fatigue. She was sure she could stay right there on the ground and fall asleep, but that was a poor idea, as well as embarrassing.
“I--” She winced when a sharp pain pierced through her mouth, and she remembered her lip. She touched her chin and forced it one way just to assess the damage. Her molar made a strange crunching noise, but it wasn’t much to worry about, she was sure of it...
She swiped at her torn lip and wiped the blood onto the leg of her pants, adding onto the other dried droplets from the cultist’s hand.
“I’m okay.” she managed to say, before forcing herself onto her feet, somehow maintaining balance as she looked at the area they had just destroyed. The silhouette of charred bodies still burning in the campsite made Jones feel null, even knowing that she had been a cause to these people’s deaths, the fact that she hadn’t been the one to set of the explosives somehow… distanced their deaths from her conscience. She was glad it felt like such because she was sure she wouldn’t be able to handle the weight.
Shifting her jaw sorely, she looked at Lance and spoke, “We should get going now… it- it’s late and I’m sure someone will be out here.”
She walked back to the hill, straining to climb it before actually making it to the top. When she did, her mother opened the car door and came out to greet them.
“I heard an explosion. What the hell happened down there?” Farrah pestered with concern as she inspected Jones’s face and pressed a napkin from her pocket onto her daughter’s busted lip. Her mother, though very loving and kind, was never the one to go to for comforting.
She was a hardy woman who taught Jones how to tough it out, how to get over the little things and not to nurse cuts like lesions.
She wasted no time inspecting Jones’s darkening bruise across her jaw, while letting the young woman handle applying pressure to her lip as she answered, “Those were the bombs we set up, we blew the camp to hell, those guys… they’re not coming back.”
Farrah looked Jones in the eye for a second before shaking her head, “You two…” she paused with a harsh intake of breath, “You both must be tired.” she said eventually. Jones frowned when her mother released her chin and looked around. She could tell that Farrah wanted to say something to rebuke their actions, to tell them that what they did was brash or stupid or something along those lines-- but she didn’t.
She watched her mother walk away, and Jones could feel her shoulders sink with fatigue. While Farrah spoke aloud, “Why don’t you two rest up? I’ll drive us back, if you don’t mind it, Lance.”, Jones opened the back door of the car and slumped into the seat.
Her eyes closed the moment she put her head against the cushion-- but she knew, sleep would escape her tonight.
Lance picked himself up and stood still for a second as he tried to make sure he wasnt going to tip over. He rested his head back and up to the sky for a moment as he sucked in the air, even if the air wasnt the cleanest.
His throat was burning, as if he was never going to be able to recollect enough oxygen to put in his lungs.
Lance looked back down to the scene below and furrowed his eyes a little.
All those people are dead now, with only one to blame. It was not fun to kill, and he got no satisfaction from blowing the place up. His laugh earlier was simply because he was alive, not because he enjoyed what he did.
But it was what he had to do, to make sure the people that they sought to hurt would be safe. If he had the brains and the mouth for it, he would talk everyone out of it, and let everyone go passively, but it would not simply work that way.
It was the harsh reality he put himself into, with everything he has done, anyone that knows his name will want to fight him. Exploding an entire cult camp was not going to help that matter
He looked down to his feet for a moment.
It all started with revenge, then it became wanting to be a hero, and now it is getting to the point that being a hero, in this world, meant being the villain for everyone else.
He could not help his rampaging thoughts at the moment, just as the camp could not help the rampaging flames he caused. Everyday he tells himself that one more death will lead to the end of it all, but everyday they get stronger, and he gets weaker.
His mind snapped back to him as he saw Jones walking off, barley even hearing what she had said earlier. He raised his shoulders and straightened his face, getting his doubts out of his mind, and followed her up the hill.
His body strained, but he managed to climb up along with her, using what reserves he had left.
He let the two of them talk as he watched the fires settle at the camp. Jones was right, someone would will be out here. And they will be heart broken at what they find. He looked back to them as Farrah asked to drive Lances car.
"Go ahead...as long as you know what you are doing...and be careful but...also quick...the mayor needs to know what we did, not just for a reward, but because they will be hitting even harder after this...with each loss they get angrier and angrier."He said bluntly as he limped over to the passenger side door.
All though his jacket was doing a good job of concealing it, he did not come out of the fight completely unscathed, the right side of his arm and leg where bleeding a little and had some burns due to shrapnel from when he covered Jones, though they where not serious, he needed to treat them, just not in front of them.
He slowly rested himself into his seat, feeling odd as he usually never sits in the passenger seat of his own car. His head rested back on the headrest, and he could feel his body letting lose, and not having to carry his weight anymore. He let out a little sigh of relief that the time had past, and now he was able to sit, even if it was just for a moment.
His throat was burning, as if he was never going to be able to recollect enough oxygen to put in his lungs.
Lance looked back down to the scene below and furrowed his eyes a little.
All those people are dead now, with only one to blame. It was not fun to kill, and he got no satisfaction from blowing the place up. His laugh earlier was simply because he was alive, not because he enjoyed what he did.
But it was what he had to do, to make sure the people that they sought to hurt would be safe. If he had the brains and the mouth for it, he would talk everyone out of it, and let everyone go passively, but it would not simply work that way.
It was the harsh reality he put himself into, with everything he has done, anyone that knows his name will want to fight him. Exploding an entire cult camp was not going to help that matter
He looked down to his feet for a moment.
It all started with revenge, then it became wanting to be a hero, and now it is getting to the point that being a hero, in this world, meant being the villain for everyone else.
He could not help his rampaging thoughts at the moment, just as the camp could not help the rampaging flames he caused. Everyday he tells himself that one more death will lead to the end of it all, but everyday they get stronger, and he gets weaker.
His mind snapped back to him as he saw Jones walking off, barley even hearing what she had said earlier. He raised his shoulders and straightened his face, getting his doubts out of his mind, and followed her up the hill.
His body strained, but he managed to climb up along with her, using what reserves he had left.
He let the two of them talk as he watched the fires settle at the camp. Jones was right, someone would will be out here. And they will be heart broken at what they find. He looked back to them as Farrah asked to drive Lances car.
"Go ahead...as long as you know what you are doing...and be careful but...also quick...the mayor needs to know what we did, not just for a reward, but because they will be hitting even harder after this...with each loss they get angrier and angrier."He said bluntly as he limped over to the passenger side door.
All though his jacket was doing a good job of concealing it, he did not come out of the fight completely unscathed, the right side of his arm and leg where bleeding a little and had some burns due to shrapnel from when he covered Jones, though they where not serious, he needed to treat them, just not in front of them.
He slowly rested himself into his seat, feeling odd as he usually never sits in the passenger seat of his own car. His head rested back on the headrest, and he could feel his body letting lose, and not having to carry his weight anymore. He let out a little sigh of relief that the time had past, and now he was able to sit, even if it was just for a moment.
Jones could hear someone come inside on the passenger door, in front of where she sat, and close it with a groan. She knew it was Lance from the deep tone of the noise, so she could only assume the person starting the car right now was her mother.
The vehicle hummed and rumbled softly with life as the engine growled, warming up its sleepy joints, and reversing when her mother shifted the gears.
“Surprised I still know how to do this so well…” Jones could hear Farrah mutter under her breath, and somehow-- she cracked a smile because of it. Those weren’t reassuring words, but somehow, they lightened the young woman’s mood, even if the weight came back within seconds, it was nice to feel the relief-- even for a moment.
She settled into the firm leathery seat, turning her body like a child, and lifting her legs just a bit once the car turned from the area it was parked in and took off. The ride was slow, easy-going-- a stark difference from the exciting, fast-paced arrival they had first made.
The way her mother drove in the darkening light of the day, perfectly matched the somber tone of everyone’s mood.
As the ride continued on, Jones’s eyes began hurt-- in fact-- they burned. She was so tired, yet her body wouldn’t fall asleep, and it was becoming an endless loop of torment as she awaited their arrival back to Crane city. This was only their first battle. There would be plenty of them that would result in the same devastation, and most likely, even worse destruction. She couldn’t let it affect her so much...otherwise panic would take over, and that helped no one.
She wondered if her mother ever felt such a way when they were in the fruitful days of war and strife. What did she have to do to keep herself and Jones alive when she was the only one who could protect them? Jones pondered it for a while.
And what of Lance? Did they feel the same? Worse? Better?
She turned in her seat again, and her hand rubbed her jaw, trying to soothe the pulsating pain. She wouldn’t ask any questions, to either of them. She didn’t want to care about it-- she wasn’t even sure how she felt about the whole thing anyway.
She shut up her thoughts after that, still holding her jaw as she focused on the rolling bumps of the dirt road.
She only focused on that, on the soft noises the car made, and how its gentle rocking was lulling her into a state of awareness, and yet the relaxation of sleep. She stayed still and thought of nothing the entire ride back.
She only fell out of her trance when the car stopped moving, and the engine gave a slow hum as it shut off. Her eyes popped open, and she sat up, immediately looking around and grasping the situation.
They were back in Crane city, relatively safe and sound, and Jones could only give a soft sigh of relief. Farrah had gotten them back safely, and the older woman looked back at her daughter, though it was quite hard for them to see through the darkness.
“We’re back everyone,” Farrah announced softly.
“We know mum.”
A chuckle sounded from the front. “Just had to make sure you two were awake. I’m sure the mayor’s waiting for us, we need to get to him quick.”
Jones nodded, but her mind felt sluggish as she went to sit up and stretch out the tiredness, the soreness, the...everything.
For now, as everyone opened their doors and exited the car, it was a moment of peace-- a little time to rejoice and give a sigh of relief. They had made it-- they lived through their first mission and did one hell of a job on it too. Even if it wasn’t the most satisfying victory, it could still be one of the most rewarding... For now at least.
Jones had heard what Lance said outside of the car, how people will get angrier the more they took on these cults, and it didn’t do much to help her mood-- but he was right. The more they battled these forces, the more attention they’ll bring to themselves. It’s just one gigantic circle of death and destruction, and no one could survive it head on, you just had to run and hope to outlive the trouble.
She looked at Lance with that in mind as she leaned against the door of his car, and she noticed he had a slight...limp.
Her eyes narrowed.
She had to make sure her brain wasn’t making up things that weren’t actually there, but no, the more she looked, the more apparent it actually became. He was hurt, but he hid it just in plain sight. Jones crossed her arms, her brows bringing a soft frown to her face.
While her mother tossed Lance his keys, Jones debated with herself, weighing out the options of her decisions.
She didn’t want to talk, it made her nervous-- but the thought that Lance had jumped in to help her made her antsy as well. She didn’t like it very much --the way she felt right now-- but she knew her mother would appreciate her actually helping someone out for once in her life…
Jones leaned on the car even more, switching up her position as she took a breath and muttered, “You’re hurt…aren’t you?” She looked over at Lance, though she failed to make eye contact, even though the street lamps illuminated the road enough for them to see each other.
If he didn’t want to say it, she knew why-- or at least, she could guess why because it was the same for her. She’d much rather lick her own wounds than have someone else do it for her-- it was a burden, for both herself, and sometimes she felt, even the other person. Those thoughts didn’t stop her from continuing, “If you want, I can patch them for you,” her voice was quiet, so not to let her mother in on the topic as she went on, “after the meeting…”
The vehicle hummed and rumbled softly with life as the engine growled, warming up its sleepy joints, and reversing when her mother shifted the gears.
“Surprised I still know how to do this so well…” Jones could hear Farrah mutter under her breath, and somehow-- she cracked a smile because of it. Those weren’t reassuring words, but somehow, they lightened the young woman’s mood, even if the weight came back within seconds, it was nice to feel the relief-- even for a moment.
She settled into the firm leathery seat, turning her body like a child, and lifting her legs just a bit once the car turned from the area it was parked in and took off. The ride was slow, easy-going-- a stark difference from the exciting, fast-paced arrival they had first made.
The way her mother drove in the darkening light of the day, perfectly matched the somber tone of everyone’s mood.
As the ride continued on, Jones’s eyes began hurt-- in fact-- they burned. She was so tired, yet her body wouldn’t fall asleep, and it was becoming an endless loop of torment as she awaited their arrival back to Crane city. This was only their first battle. There would be plenty of them that would result in the same devastation, and most likely, even worse destruction. She couldn’t let it affect her so much...otherwise panic would take over, and that helped no one.
She wondered if her mother ever felt such a way when they were in the fruitful days of war and strife. What did she have to do to keep herself and Jones alive when she was the only one who could protect them? Jones pondered it for a while.
And what of Lance? Did they feel the same? Worse? Better?
She turned in her seat again, and her hand rubbed her jaw, trying to soothe the pulsating pain. She wouldn’t ask any questions, to either of them. She didn’t want to care about it-- she wasn’t even sure how she felt about the whole thing anyway.
She shut up her thoughts after that, still holding her jaw as she focused on the rolling bumps of the dirt road.
She only focused on that, on the soft noises the car made, and how its gentle rocking was lulling her into a state of awareness, and yet the relaxation of sleep. She stayed still and thought of nothing the entire ride back.
She only fell out of her trance when the car stopped moving, and the engine gave a slow hum as it shut off. Her eyes popped open, and she sat up, immediately looking around and grasping the situation.
They were back in Crane city, relatively safe and sound, and Jones could only give a soft sigh of relief. Farrah had gotten them back safely, and the older woman looked back at her daughter, though it was quite hard for them to see through the darkness.
“We’re back everyone,” Farrah announced softly.
“We know mum.”
A chuckle sounded from the front. “Just had to make sure you two were awake. I’m sure the mayor’s waiting for us, we need to get to him quick.”
Jones nodded, but her mind felt sluggish as she went to sit up and stretch out the tiredness, the soreness, the...everything.
For now, as everyone opened their doors and exited the car, it was a moment of peace-- a little time to rejoice and give a sigh of relief. They had made it-- they lived through their first mission and did one hell of a job on it too. Even if it wasn’t the most satisfying victory, it could still be one of the most rewarding... For now at least.
Jones had heard what Lance said outside of the car, how people will get angrier the more they took on these cults, and it didn’t do much to help her mood-- but he was right. The more they battled these forces, the more attention they’ll bring to themselves. It’s just one gigantic circle of death and destruction, and no one could survive it head on, you just had to run and hope to outlive the trouble.
She looked at Lance with that in mind as she leaned against the door of his car, and she noticed he had a slight...limp.
Her eyes narrowed.
She had to make sure her brain wasn’t making up things that weren’t actually there, but no, the more she looked, the more apparent it actually became. He was hurt, but he hid it just in plain sight. Jones crossed her arms, her brows bringing a soft frown to her face.
While her mother tossed Lance his keys, Jones debated with herself, weighing out the options of her decisions.
She didn’t want to talk, it made her nervous-- but the thought that Lance had jumped in to help her made her antsy as well. She didn’t like it very much --the way she felt right now-- but she knew her mother would appreciate her actually helping someone out for once in her life…
Jones leaned on the car even more, switching up her position as she took a breath and muttered, “You’re hurt…aren’t you?” She looked over at Lance, though she failed to make eye contact, even though the street lamps illuminated the road enough for them to see each other.
If he didn’t want to say it, she knew why-- or at least, she could guess why because it was the same for her. She’d much rather lick her own wounds than have someone else do it for her-- it was a burden, for both herself, and sometimes she felt, even the other person. Those thoughts didn’t stop her from continuing, “If you want, I can patch them for you,” her voice was quiet, so not to let her mother in on the topic as she went on, “after the meeting…”
He looked forward a little and didnt respond for a moment. His lips where pressed together for a moment, as he knew he was no good at lying, and it would not get him out of the situation.
"Yeah...I am hurt..but you dont have to help me, I...am honestly just not used to someone taking are of my wounds, so it may just be best to leave me to it for now..."He said sounding a little awkward, and his voice became a little distant as he saw a bright light in the distance where the city would be."...I did not think the city would be that bright at night."He said sounding almost in awe, never seeing a city illuminating the sky so well
They approached the city and something seemed off, as the closer and closer they got the more they could hear an odd sound.
It was music
Lances eyes grew slightly worried, but he didnt want to say anything to scare the others, as he might be wrong about the suspicions he had.
But as they fast approched Crane City, they could loudly hear a dark sounding song, Heleter Skeleter.(https://youtu.be/vWW2SzoAXMo) The song was loud and grating, the guitars and the bass turned into overdrive, wailing like a screaming man, and the man singing the song shouted every lyric.
"HELETER SKELTER!" Shouted the man singing the song, and a crowd along with it
"No...god no..."Lance said to himself as they came to the walls, it was apparent now that the city was not illuminating the sky with bright lights, but fire.
Accompanying the music blasting, there where people hanging on crosses along the outside of the wall, all of them residents that where once in the city, crucified along planks of wood, their blood still fresh, and slowly dripping down their arms and legs. Some of the people where still alive, you could see their chest slowly and weekly rising and falling. And on the top of the walls entrance was the word SINNERS spray painted in black dripping paint, with the guard Jones had interacted with just earlier in the day nailed beside it.
Lance watched in horror as the siege on the city was on going, men of the cult chasing people down in the city, and cutting them down once they reached them, or just dragging them off to do god knows what. Cries for help and anguish engulfed the sky as those left in the city struggled to break free from the torment. And the center piece of it all was the crane, for at the very top end of it, was the Mayor, hanging by his neck, with the cults flag of the mercedes logo imprinted on it, dangling off his feet.
Lance stepped out of the car and stared of the wall, his face frozen with a half way open jaw, his first instinct was to run in there and help everyone, but his logic told him to hold back as the situation seemed far out of his hands. He didnt know what to do with his body, he just felt in a way defeated at the sight of all this.
As he stared at the scene a group of men stood at the top of the wall. The one in the center, was a tall, long haired and bearded man, with his hair tied up in a bun. He wore a pre war over shirt and vest, strikingly clean. His eyes where illuminated behind his pair of aviator glasses by the flames, they where big and wide, and they looked like they had a mile long, dead stare. To his left, a equally as tall armored woman, clocked entirely in black, and her face covered in some sort of make shift helmet, with a creepy grin cut into it, and she had a dark cape along the side of her arm from the fur of some animal. To the mans right, was Samuel, his face bruised and beaten from his run in with Lance only moments ago. And behind him, a shadowy figure, hooded and masked, his clothes a odd array of green, blues, and purples.
The man in the center with the tied up hair raised his hand and spoke to Lance."Lance...I am very glad you have come..."His voice was carried a calm, yet unsettling tone."I wanted to share with you a revelation I had in the past few days...it came from a poem read to me by dear Samuel, the poor fellow you tricked, and kicked while he lay on the ground.."
He grinned a little as he said,"NOW this is the law of the jungle, as old and as true as the sky,And the wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the wolf that shall break it must die.As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk, the law runneth forward and back;For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack."He said with much enthusiasm
"Lance...you have made me realize something lately...we have been to soft...we have let the actions of just one man bring our operations down...But the strength of the wolf is the pack...and where is your pack Lance...you are nothing but a wolf that has broken the code of conduct set on us by the Fortunate Sons, and though we have tried to bring you to the light, time, and time again, I now see that you deserve nothing but death...along with everyone else...we have gathered our pack...all the men who shall follow the light are with us."
He took a pause before his next statement, taking in the atmosphere."So now it is time...let the rain come...cleanse the world of all the sinners...kill those that may stand in the way of salvation. BRING THE HELETER SKELETER!"He said raising his voice to the sky.
"Prudence! You are a ****ing mad man! I dont care what I have to do, I will see your head roll!"Lance shouted with vigor and anger at the man.
Prudence looked down at him, his grin still planted on his face."The law...runneth forward and back..."He said with a chuckle as he looked down the the women with him."Young woman...I know not why you are with this man, if you have seen the things he has done, you would know the evil in him, while his time is up, and his death is soon, I can offer you sanctuary, and fellowship among my men."He looked back at Lance."And Lance...despite what I have said...right now....I give you one last chance..."He said as he spread his arms.
"Repent."
Lance stared at him for a moment before he walked around the back of his car and popped open the trunk."Repent this you insane bastard!"He said as he took out a small gas can, and dropped his match into it. Flames sparked out the end, before he tossed it at the wall, letting it hit just bellow them.
Prudence and his men ducked under cover as the flames erupted on the wall, and set fire to where they stood."So be it you war monger! Men, hunt this man down like the pray he is!"Prudence shouted as he and the others with him ran off the wall.
Lance glanced at Jones."Jones...the man has a point...you would probably be safer with him...if you wanted to stay with him, you would have nothing against me...I understand...but if you want to do what is right...by all means get in the car...maybe I can find a way to get you to a safe place like you wanted..."Lance said as he rushed as fast as he could to his car and he swung open the door, and ignited the engine.
"Yeah...I am hurt..but you dont have to help me, I...am honestly just not used to someone taking are of my wounds, so it may just be best to leave me to it for now..."He said sounding a little awkward, and his voice became a little distant as he saw a bright light in the distance where the city would be."...I did not think the city would be that bright at night."He said sounding almost in awe, never seeing a city illuminating the sky so well
They approached the city and something seemed off, as the closer and closer they got the more they could hear an odd sound.
It was music
Lances eyes grew slightly worried, but he didnt want to say anything to scare the others, as he might be wrong about the suspicions he had.
But as they fast approched Crane City, they could loudly hear a dark sounding song, Heleter Skeleter.(https://youtu.be/vWW2SzoAXMo) The song was loud and grating, the guitars and the bass turned into overdrive, wailing like a screaming man, and the man singing the song shouted every lyric.
"HELETER SKELTER!" Shouted the man singing the song, and a crowd along with it
"No...god no..."Lance said to himself as they came to the walls, it was apparent now that the city was not illuminating the sky with bright lights, but fire.
Accompanying the music blasting, there where people hanging on crosses along the outside of the wall, all of them residents that where once in the city, crucified along planks of wood, their blood still fresh, and slowly dripping down their arms and legs. Some of the people where still alive, you could see their chest slowly and weekly rising and falling. And on the top of the walls entrance was the word SINNERS spray painted in black dripping paint, with the guard Jones had interacted with just earlier in the day nailed beside it.
Lance watched in horror as the siege on the city was on going, men of the cult chasing people down in the city, and cutting them down once they reached them, or just dragging them off to do god knows what. Cries for help and anguish engulfed the sky as those left in the city struggled to break free from the torment. And the center piece of it all was the crane, for at the very top end of it, was the Mayor, hanging by his neck, with the cults flag of the mercedes logo imprinted on it, dangling off his feet.
Lance stepped out of the car and stared of the wall, his face frozen with a half way open jaw, his first instinct was to run in there and help everyone, but his logic told him to hold back as the situation seemed far out of his hands. He didnt know what to do with his body, he just felt in a way defeated at the sight of all this.
As he stared at the scene a group of men stood at the top of the wall. The one in the center, was a tall, long haired and bearded man, with his hair tied up in a bun. He wore a pre war over shirt and vest, strikingly clean. His eyes where illuminated behind his pair of aviator glasses by the flames, they where big and wide, and they looked like they had a mile long, dead stare. To his left, a equally as tall armored woman, clocked entirely in black, and her face covered in some sort of make shift helmet, with a creepy grin cut into it, and she had a dark cape along the side of her arm from the fur of some animal. To the mans right, was Samuel, his face bruised and beaten from his run in with Lance only moments ago. And behind him, a shadowy figure, hooded and masked, his clothes a odd array of green, blues, and purples.
The man in the center with the tied up hair raised his hand and spoke to Lance."Lance...I am very glad you have come..."His voice was carried a calm, yet unsettling tone."I wanted to share with you a revelation I had in the past few days...it came from a poem read to me by dear Samuel, the poor fellow you tricked, and kicked while he lay on the ground.."
He grinned a little as he said,"NOW this is the law of the jungle, as old and as true as the sky,And the wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the wolf that shall break it must die.As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk, the law runneth forward and back;For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack."He said with much enthusiasm
"Lance...you have made me realize something lately...we have been to soft...we have let the actions of just one man bring our operations down...But the strength of the wolf is the pack...and where is your pack Lance...you are nothing but a wolf that has broken the code of conduct set on us by the Fortunate Sons, and though we have tried to bring you to the light, time, and time again, I now see that you deserve nothing but death...along with everyone else...we have gathered our pack...all the men who shall follow the light are with us."
He took a pause before his next statement, taking in the atmosphere."So now it is time...let the rain come...cleanse the world of all the sinners...kill those that may stand in the way of salvation. BRING THE HELETER SKELETER!"He said raising his voice to the sky.
"Prudence! You are a ****ing mad man! I dont care what I have to do, I will see your head roll!"Lance shouted with vigor and anger at the man.
Prudence looked down at him, his grin still planted on his face."The law...runneth forward and back..."He said with a chuckle as he looked down the the women with him."Young woman...I know not why you are with this man, if you have seen the things he has done, you would know the evil in him, while his time is up, and his death is soon, I can offer you sanctuary, and fellowship among my men."He looked back at Lance."And Lance...despite what I have said...right now....I give you one last chance..."He said as he spread his arms.
"Repent."
Lance stared at him for a moment before he walked around the back of his car and popped open the trunk."Repent this you insane bastard!"He said as he took out a small gas can, and dropped his match into it. Flames sparked out the end, before he tossed it at the wall, letting it hit just bellow them.
Prudence and his men ducked under cover as the flames erupted on the wall, and set fire to where they stood."So be it you war monger! Men, hunt this man down like the pray he is!"Prudence shouted as he and the others with him ran off the wall.
Lance glanced at Jones."Jones...the man has a point...you would probably be safer with him...if you wanted to stay with him, you would have nothing against me...I understand...but if you want to do what is right...by all means get in the car...maybe I can find a way to get you to a safe place like you wanted..."Lance said as he rushed as fast as he could to his car and he swung open the door, and ignited the engine.
Jones flattened her mouth at Lance's words, but she stopped when the fresh wound on her lip stung her nerves. She nodded at the man, her eyes trailing her hands as they toyed with her shiv, and she understood where he was coming from.
Still, she found herself feeling slightly embarrassed. The emotion was short-lived once she peeked up and noticed the far-off gaze Lance had as he muttered about lights and stared out at the path before them.
"Hm?" she hummed as she followed his line of sight, but quickly found herself squinting the moment she saw Crane city shining like a blinding ray of sunlight. The light from the city broke through the overwhelming darkness of the night. Jones was stunned with awe and amaze. "Oh," she could hear Farrah gasp softly, but Jones couldn't find a single syllable to utter. Never had she seen something like this in the barren lands.
Was...was this normal routine? Did cities usually become glorious beacons in the night? The group kept on toward the city-- the dazzling glow of the place only growing more radiant the closer they came to the walls. Yet, as they did, a thrumming noise worked its way into their ears, riding on a heavy tempo. The sound slowly became louder, and vicious -unbearable- as it beat through the quietness with the shrill roars of instruments bursting from old world machines-- threatening to deafen Jones as they became a background to the shout,"Helter Skelter!"
The heavy stone of realization plummeted deep into her gut at that moment. The lights that bathed the city in bright amber and gold suddenly turned crimson as it emerged from the bowels of great open fires, burning across the length of the walls in a wicked dance, energized by the raging music. The warmth from the fires -once an unknown comfort in the chilled atmosphere- became a rapid, swarming, inferno that choked and clogged lungs-- as if the air had become sweltering and unbreathable.
Jones rocked without balance as nerves threw her into a violent tremor. Her eyes were wide open and strained, while a pungent singe of bile frothed in her throat when the faint stench of cooking flesh crept through the heat of hungry flames. Through the openings of the wall, she could see the inner torment of the city as cultists attacked the remaining citizens-- chasing them, killing them, dragging the dead to the fire pits to burn.
Though the strangling smells could easily overtake the senses-- the sights surrounding the trio took no-contest.
Erected high above their heads, and scaling the height of the city walls, crosses crafted from crude, raw wood, loomed in the lightened sky with masses of bloodied lumps nailed into them; people. Like criminals, damned to long-lasting torment, in the wretched rule of a land far more ancient than even her mother knew-- the dwellers of Crane city hung beaten, naked, and dying, as their blood drained from their bodies and soaked into the wood shafts, dyeing the timber a dark scarlet.
The people were so disfigured and bludgeoned, Jones couldn't make out their features.
"Oh...God! Oh my God!" her mother cried as she looked at the crucified men and women in astonishment. The older woman held her stomach in disgust along with another emotion so intense, Jones didn't even know what to call it. They all stopped at the entrance, now tagged with the word 'SINNERS', and decorated with the lifeless body of a guard. Four people then walked in front of them-- each of them menacing in their own way as they stood above the trio, high upon the deck of the walls.
One of them, a tall man with sunglasses, spoke with a voice that managed to boom over the pounding music, as he directed his speech toward Lance, somehow managing to keep his tone calm. The man above went on about some strange metaphor of wolves and their pack, but the longer Jones listened the more she understood...
This man was clearly disturbed.
There was something so wrong about him- about the way he spoke. It felt like he was reciting the crazed messages of those passed away, mixing them into one and creating something new altogether. Whatever ideology he had created for himself- for this cult-- it was screwy and far more than just deranged. And when the man; Prudence, as Lance so called him-- looked at Jones and offered her "fellowship", she took an eager step back.
Her heart was slamming in her chest, striking her ribs, and filling her entire body with fearful adrenaline as she watched Lance chuck an explosive at the group; blowing out the wall and setting it ablaze. When Prudence declared a hunt for Lance's head, and he and his men came running down the wall, Jones had to fight off her impending heart attack.
This could not happen. She couldn't fight these people off!
Jones back-peddled and her eyes were frantic as the fire, the running cultists, the screaming-- the sound of Lance's voice, overwhelmed her. Everything was happening too quick, she didn't know what to do.
She could hear Lance talk to her, she heard what he said about taking a side, but she wasn't listening. No. In fact, the more she heard him speak, the more her fear turned to anger. What the hell was she doing in this situation? She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be fighting a battle that wasn't even her own. The realization burned through her like exploding magma, and she felt so stupid!
Her fists clenched with hot ire, and if Lance hadn't gone to his car, Jones...Jones didn't know what she would've done.
"Get in the car...Go with Prudence?!" She growled, her hands clawing through her hair.
"This **it's your fault!" she suddenly yelled, and her voice was stricken with various emotions. "Maybe- maybe if you had thought a little before starting a war, we wouldn't have to run like this," the stomps of boots could be heard just behind the wall, but she went on, "Did you even think about us when you threw that gas can? Did you think that maybe we'd get hurt?"
The men rounded the entrance, with Prudence leading them, clearly eager for the first blood of hunt.
Jones whipped around at them, her feet ready to move as the shocking sense of fear kicked in again, flooding her veins with energy-- anxiety. She glanced at Lance's car, then at the group charging them.
She made her choice.
She was listening to something louder, more powerful than the voices that chanted or the engine that roared-- it was something deep in her, and it told her to do what she knew best. Jones turned to her mother, taking her by the wrist. They both knew what to do the moment their eyes met.
They would run.
Where to? Jones never knew that answer.
But she didn't want to leave somewhere new, only to be hunted down again. Those cultists-- they wanted Lance much more than they wanted her. She didn't know what he did to earn such notorious fame with the cults, but it was a dangerous game he was playing-- Jones wanted out.
Her mother's life, her own life, was on the line now, and she had to leave.
She was sure Lance could make it out on his own; she had no doubt he was used to it. But, for her own self-assurance, she couldn't go with him. Not now.
As she and her mother bolted, each of them taking off with powerful dead sprints, Jones furrowed her brow- even as angst shook her body-- made her knees weak and her feet heavy; she would keep running: keep fighting.
She had to outpace the cult.
Still, she found herself feeling slightly embarrassed. The emotion was short-lived once she peeked up and noticed the far-off gaze Lance had as he muttered about lights and stared out at the path before them.
"Hm?" she hummed as she followed his line of sight, but quickly found herself squinting the moment she saw Crane city shining like a blinding ray of sunlight. The light from the city broke through the overwhelming darkness of the night. Jones was stunned with awe and amaze. "Oh," she could hear Farrah gasp softly, but Jones couldn't find a single syllable to utter. Never had she seen something like this in the barren lands.
Was...was this normal routine? Did cities usually become glorious beacons in the night? The group kept on toward the city-- the dazzling glow of the place only growing more radiant the closer they came to the walls. Yet, as they did, a thrumming noise worked its way into their ears, riding on a heavy tempo. The sound slowly became louder, and vicious -unbearable- as it beat through the quietness with the shrill roars of instruments bursting from old world machines-- threatening to deafen Jones as they became a background to the shout,"Helter Skelter!"
The heavy stone of realization plummeted deep into her gut at that moment. The lights that bathed the city in bright amber and gold suddenly turned crimson as it emerged from the bowels of great open fires, burning across the length of the walls in a wicked dance, energized by the raging music. The warmth from the fires -once an unknown comfort in the chilled atmosphere- became a rapid, swarming, inferno that choked and clogged lungs-- as if the air had become sweltering and unbreathable.
Jones rocked without balance as nerves threw her into a violent tremor. Her eyes were wide open and strained, while a pungent singe of bile frothed in her throat when the faint stench of cooking flesh crept through the heat of hungry flames. Through the openings of the wall, she could see the inner torment of the city as cultists attacked the remaining citizens-- chasing them, killing them, dragging the dead to the fire pits to burn.
Though the strangling smells could easily overtake the senses-- the sights surrounding the trio took no-contest.
Erected high above their heads, and scaling the height of the city walls, crosses crafted from crude, raw wood, loomed in the lightened sky with masses of bloodied lumps nailed into them; people. Like criminals, damned to long-lasting torment, in the wretched rule of a land far more ancient than even her mother knew-- the dwellers of Crane city hung beaten, naked, and dying, as their blood drained from their bodies and soaked into the wood shafts, dyeing the timber a dark scarlet.
The people were so disfigured and bludgeoned, Jones couldn't make out their features.
"Oh...God! Oh my God!" her mother cried as she looked at the crucified men and women in astonishment. The older woman held her stomach in disgust along with another emotion so intense, Jones didn't even know what to call it. They all stopped at the entrance, now tagged with the word 'SINNERS', and decorated with the lifeless body of a guard. Four people then walked in front of them-- each of them menacing in their own way as they stood above the trio, high upon the deck of the walls.
One of them, a tall man with sunglasses, spoke with a voice that managed to boom over the pounding music, as he directed his speech toward Lance, somehow managing to keep his tone calm. The man above went on about some strange metaphor of wolves and their pack, but the longer Jones listened the more she understood...
This man was clearly disturbed.
There was something so wrong about him- about the way he spoke. It felt like he was reciting the crazed messages of those passed away, mixing them into one and creating something new altogether. Whatever ideology he had created for himself- for this cult-- it was screwy and far more than just deranged. And when the man; Prudence, as Lance so called him-- looked at Jones and offered her "fellowship", she took an eager step back.
Her heart was slamming in her chest, striking her ribs, and filling her entire body with fearful adrenaline as she watched Lance chuck an explosive at the group; blowing out the wall and setting it ablaze. When Prudence declared a hunt for Lance's head, and he and his men came running down the wall, Jones had to fight off her impending heart attack.
This could not happen. She couldn't fight these people off!
Jones back-peddled and her eyes were frantic as the fire, the running cultists, the screaming-- the sound of Lance's voice, overwhelmed her. Everything was happening too quick, she didn't know what to do.
She could hear Lance talk to her, she heard what he said about taking a side, but she wasn't listening. No. In fact, the more she heard him speak, the more her fear turned to anger. What the hell was she doing in this situation? She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be fighting a battle that wasn't even her own. The realization burned through her like exploding magma, and she felt so stupid!
Her fists clenched with hot ire, and if Lance hadn't gone to his car, Jones...Jones didn't know what she would've done.
"Get in the car...Go with Prudence?!" She growled, her hands clawing through her hair.
"This **it's your fault!" she suddenly yelled, and her voice was stricken with various emotions. "Maybe- maybe if you had thought a little before starting a war, we wouldn't have to run like this," the stomps of boots could be heard just behind the wall, but she went on, "Did you even think about us when you threw that gas can? Did you think that maybe we'd get hurt?"
The men rounded the entrance, with Prudence leading them, clearly eager for the first blood of hunt.
Jones whipped around at them, her feet ready to move as the shocking sense of fear kicked in again, flooding her veins with energy-- anxiety. She glanced at Lance's car, then at the group charging them.
She made her choice.
She was listening to something louder, more powerful than the voices that chanted or the engine that roared-- it was something deep in her, and it told her to do what she knew best. Jones turned to her mother, taking her by the wrist. They both knew what to do the moment their eyes met.
They would run.
Where to? Jones never knew that answer.
But she didn't want to leave somewhere new, only to be hunted down again. Those cultists-- they wanted Lance much more than they wanted her. She didn't know what he did to earn such notorious fame with the cults, but it was a dangerous game he was playing-- Jones wanted out.
Her mother's life, her own life, was on the line now, and she had to leave.
She was sure Lance could make it out on his own; she had no doubt he was used to it. But, for her own self-assurance, she couldn't go with him. Not now.
As she and her mother bolted, each of them taking off with powerful dead sprints, Jones furrowed her brow- even as angst shook her body-- made her knees weak and her feet heavy; she would keep running: keep fighting.
She had to outpace the cult.
Lance could do nothing more then understand her position. Frankly he was angry at the Mayor, for paring them with him, therefor leading them into this position. But what was done was done. He wish her words didnt pin him with guilt, but they did. He DID think about them, it was the whole reason he wanted Jones to just set off the explosives for him, and let the mother stay back. He hopped he could do all the heavy lifting, and the two would get their reward, and be on their way. He did not foresee any of this, last he saw Prudence, he was up north in the snow, he did not expect him to be HERE of all places, worried about this city.
He in no way wanted them, or anyone to be a part of this, he was used to carrying his wrongs on his own shoulders, but now it was effecting someone else. He didnt feel like he started any war, he was just doing what was asked of him by the mayor. But no he let Samuel get away, which was no doubt what caused this. No he did not start this war, he just brought it to their door step.
Lance was expecting her to get in the car, and continue shouting at him as they drove off, but his eyes widened as he saw them run off. His heart raced for a moment, not knowing what to do. At this moment, he could drive off and be far ahead of the cult and be long gone. But he couldnt leave them, running was worse then getting in the car, as the Cult would see them as sinners like the rest, and pin them to a cross like all the others.
"Maybe they can...get away on their own..."He reasoned with himself as he looked behind him and saw the men coming to the gate. He started his engine and was ready to drive off, until he heard more engines start.
"No...it cant be..."He said as he looked in his mirrors and saw two dune buggies pull out into the city streets, one started to head for him, the other, turned to the right, heading for Jones and Farrah.
For once in a long while, Lance felt his hands shaking as anxiety built up in him. He knew how people where, he could save them right now, and they would still not want anything to do with him, and wonder to another place and get killed. It was best to leave them be, and move on.
But as the dune buggy that chased after Jones and her mother zoomed past him, his foot slammed on the pedal.
His heart took over, as his brain took the backseat, and controlled his hands on the wheel, to follow the buggy. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his eyes where intense as his speedometer rose through the numbers.
The Dune Buggy caught up quickly to the pair, trailing behind them, and looking to simply run them over and be on with its day. The man behind the wheel smiled and laughed a little, as if he was enjoying the chase.
No matter how fast they ran there would be no outrunning the 70 mph buggy, as it got so close it felt like it was touching their heels as they ran.
But when it seemed as if it was about to plaster them on the ground, the black falcon sped from the buggies flank, and smashed dead center into it. A thunders metal crash rang though there ears, and the speed and force behind the impact caused the buggy to flip over and over again, crushing the driver inside, and causing Lance to spin out a little, before he regained control of the beast. Thankfully, due to the ram cage he had on the front, the car was not harmed to much.
Lance rolled his window down and peeked his head out to the two, and shouted."Jones! I understand completely...you should have never been a part of this, and I do not expect a shred of forgiveness. But please, let me get you away from these creeps, and you can do what you need to from there. I cant...just leave you two like this, after putting you in this situation."His voice was serious and almost somber.
He looked back through his windshield as he saw the second buggy fast approaching, as well as the cultist on foot behind it, and possibly more buggies on the way. He could only hope they would make up their minds quick, before all of them are dead.
He in no way wanted them, or anyone to be a part of this, he was used to carrying his wrongs on his own shoulders, but now it was effecting someone else. He didnt feel like he started any war, he was just doing what was asked of him by the mayor. But no he let Samuel get away, which was no doubt what caused this. No he did not start this war, he just brought it to their door step.
Lance was expecting her to get in the car, and continue shouting at him as they drove off, but his eyes widened as he saw them run off. His heart raced for a moment, not knowing what to do. At this moment, he could drive off and be far ahead of the cult and be long gone. But he couldnt leave them, running was worse then getting in the car, as the Cult would see them as sinners like the rest, and pin them to a cross like all the others.
"Maybe they can...get away on their own..."He reasoned with himself as he looked behind him and saw the men coming to the gate. He started his engine and was ready to drive off, until he heard more engines start.
"No...it cant be..."He said as he looked in his mirrors and saw two dune buggies pull out into the city streets, one started to head for him, the other, turned to the right, heading for Jones and Farrah.
For once in a long while, Lance felt his hands shaking as anxiety built up in him. He knew how people where, he could save them right now, and they would still not want anything to do with him, and wonder to another place and get killed. It was best to leave them be, and move on.
But as the dune buggy that chased after Jones and her mother zoomed past him, his foot slammed on the pedal.
His heart took over, as his brain took the backseat, and controlled his hands on the wheel, to follow the buggy. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his eyes where intense as his speedometer rose through the numbers.
The Dune Buggy caught up quickly to the pair, trailing behind them, and looking to simply run them over and be on with its day. The man behind the wheel smiled and laughed a little, as if he was enjoying the chase.
No matter how fast they ran there would be no outrunning the 70 mph buggy, as it got so close it felt like it was touching their heels as they ran.
But when it seemed as if it was about to plaster them on the ground, the black falcon sped from the buggies flank, and smashed dead center into it. A thunders metal crash rang though there ears, and the speed and force behind the impact caused the buggy to flip over and over again, crushing the driver inside, and causing Lance to spin out a little, before he regained control of the beast. Thankfully, due to the ram cage he had on the front, the car was not harmed to much.
Lance rolled his window down and peeked his head out to the two, and shouted."Jones! I understand completely...you should have never been a part of this, and I do not expect a shred of forgiveness. But please, let me get you away from these creeps, and you can do what you need to from there. I cant...just leave you two like this, after putting you in this situation."His voice was serious and almost somber.
He looked back through his windshield as he saw the second buggy fast approaching, as well as the cultist on foot behind it, and possibly more buggies on the way. He could only hope they would make up their minds quick, before all of them are dead.
Jones ran.
She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, but even her mother surpassed her, easily out-pacing her daughter even in her ripening age. Farrah was still in shape, fit and ready for survival. Her endurance only encouraged Jones to run harder as she followed the older woman back into the dark of the night.
She blinked when her sight went dark, and her eyes tried to adjust to the sudden black as Jones raced away from the glowing city while it burned to the high heavens-- the walls groaning in despair as wild flames consumed them, and they crumpled.
Prudence and his fleet of followers were still chasing behind them-- trekking along with their steps while yelling obscenities and taunting Jones with their old world verses-- babble in her ear. They hollered and hooted while the sudden roar of engines bellowed, and the cultists grew all the more hungry for death.
There was no doubt --no second thought-- that Prudence and this cult were nothing less than a merry band of murderers, looking to cover their evil through obscure religion-- giving themselves the "justifications" to slaughter hundreds.
Jones's breath was now visible in the cold air, and it came puffing out in rapid bursts, following her harsh exhales as she fought for air. Yellow lights flashed behind them accompanied with the sound of wheels skirting across dirt. Jones took a glance back, but her vision was filled by artificial light-- the head lamps of a car.
It sped toward them with no intention on stopping as it came close to riding over them, coming so close they could feel the heat of the engine on their backs. Just when it felt that the machine would run them over like speed bumps, the vehicle flipped. Jones's eyes widened and she stopped running when she saw the dune buggy lurch to one side, launch into the air, and crash back on the dirt, top down.
The screech of tires burning rubber, losing traction, whistled through the area as Lance's car recovered from the force it had just used to T-bone the dune buggy. It spun with little control, and the engine thundered as the man inside tamed its wily vigor, whipping it around to face the mother-daughter duo.
When Lance poked his head out the window, Jones tensed, but Farrah took her hand and held it-- silently urging Jones to listen to what the man had to say. She kept herself quiet as he spoke, and her teeth ached as she unknowingly clenched her bruising jaw-- her eyes shifting with petulance. Her face was screwed up with both annoyance and thought as words failed her.
"Jones," her mother urged, taking the young woman by the shoulders with the roughness of a grown man, nearly tipping her over from the force. Farrah squeezed her arms like a pinch and Jones gave a dirty look as the woman said, "You're angry, I know, but this situation--" she looked behind them, "-this is no time to time to be pissy."
More yellow lights suddenly flashed the car, and another dune buggy was revving its way toward them.
Farrah looked back at it, her posture suddenly shifting as she let go of Jones, "I don't like this either... I would rather run too, but you saw what they did to this place-- they... they can catch us easily."
Her gaze bore into Jones's, even as the older woman opened the door of Lance's car.
"Get inside."
There was no fighting against it. Her mother's words felt like law-- like Jones couldn't break free from them without facing horrible wrath. She didn't want to go, she didn't feel safe- but then again, she never felt safe anywhere. And as the dune buggy drew closer, Jones felt her heart strain-- the situation of everything crushing her like a thousand pound weight.
Anger and fear. They had mixed so deeply into her, she knew it was morphing into something new as her hands shook when she opened the door and stepped inside. She made sure to still her breath that trembled with bitterness when the car took off-- roaring with speed once she and her mother sat.
They zoomed through the barren lands, easily outpacing the buggy that sought to kill them, and entering the black, empty void of night. Only the stars accompanied them, guiding them with fickle light, and taking them down the path to somewhere new...
Lance looked at the mirrors as he sped off, the lights of the cults cars getting dimmer and dimmer as they failed to catch up. He kept driving and driving, until the only things left where the sounds of the cars rumbling engine, and the lights cutting through the darkness from his headlights.
Lance slowed the car down to a stop and looked out the window. The cabin was rather quite for a moment as he reached for his binoculars and looked out ahead. He didnt see anything from here.
He took a deep breath and slapped his head on the wheel of the car."Look I...I am sorry..."He said without lifting up his head."I wanted to get those cultist off that towns back for good...like the man asked...but I messed up...obviously..."He said as he raised his head. His eyes where tired, and mournful. He did not like seeing what he had to see. The cult have done things like that before, but not on that massive of a scale. He wish he would not have ran away, at least he would have died with those people, rather then run away and leave their corpses to burn.
"I know...you are angry with me...and if you wanna just get out and go on your own from here...I understand. But look, that cult is after all of us now. Rather you are with me or not, they will come looking for you. You can blame me if you want...but if you had done what the mayor asked...regardless of how I handled it...they would be looking for you either way."He rested his head on the back of the seat and looked at the review mirror at her face. She obviously was still not happy over the situation."Let me...make it up. I can just leave you guys in the wasteland and drive off. I know a place, far north, in a place they used to call Canada. Its a place that the bombs did not get to, a underground shelter, it used to be a facility where they kept and tested wild life, and the environment of the old world...and its all still there. When I was young I got to go inside, but we could not stay...they had trees, and grass, green and full of life, and the people where happy and safe. They turned the research center into the last sacrad place left on earth, and are slowly trying to make the world better again, planting the seeds of the trees everywhere they can..."He stopped himself as he realized he was rambling on about the wonderful place, and he bit his lip as he tried to get himself back on track."I can take you there. It is safe, well guarded, and well supplied, if you want some where safe, that would be the place. But you would never get there on foot. And without a guide..."He said with a slight warm tone.
He was quick to jump into a position to help these people he barley knew, something that most people in this current world would think was stupid. But to him, he owed them something for what he done, and they seemed like good people. Though he would probably not say it out loud, deep down he wanted to help them, or die trying.
Lance slowed the car down to a stop and looked out the window. The cabin was rather quite for a moment as he reached for his binoculars and looked out ahead. He didnt see anything from here.
He took a deep breath and slapped his head on the wheel of the car."Look I...I am sorry..."He said without lifting up his head."I wanted to get those cultist off that towns back for good...like the man asked...but I messed up...obviously..."He said as he raised his head. His eyes where tired, and mournful. He did not like seeing what he had to see. The cult have done things like that before, but not on that massive of a scale. He wish he would not have ran away, at least he would have died with those people, rather then run away and leave their corpses to burn.
"I know...you are angry with me...and if you wanna just get out and go on your own from here...I understand. But look, that cult is after all of us now. Rather you are with me or not, they will come looking for you. You can blame me if you want...but if you had done what the mayor asked...regardless of how I handled it...they would be looking for you either way."He rested his head on the back of the seat and looked at the review mirror at her face. She obviously was still not happy over the situation."Let me...make it up. I can just leave you guys in the wasteland and drive off. I know a place, far north, in a place they used to call Canada. Its a place that the bombs did not get to, a underground shelter, it used to be a facility where they kept and tested wild life, and the environment of the old world...and its all still there. When I was young I got to go inside, but we could not stay...they had trees, and grass, green and full of life, and the people where happy and safe. They turned the research center into the last sacrad place left on earth, and are slowly trying to make the world better again, planting the seeds of the trees everywhere they can..."He stopped himself as he realized he was rambling on about the wonderful place, and he bit his lip as he tried to get himself back on track."I can take you there. It is safe, well guarded, and well supplied, if you want some where safe, that would be the place. But you would never get there on foot. And without a guide..."He said with a slight warm tone.
He was quick to jump into a position to help these people he barley knew, something that most people in this current world would think was stupid. But to him, he owed them something for what he done, and they seemed like good people. Though he would probably not say it out loud, deep down he wanted to help them, or die trying.
Prudence watched the car trail off in the distant. His eyes furrowed intensely, as the fire behind him grew with the anger inside him.
Before he burst in rage, Prudence took a breath and calmed himself."They will not get far...soon all the sins they are chasing, will come into the light."He said as he trailed off into the city, followed by his men. He walked into what used to be the cities bar, and inside he found the man he was looking for, a tall and stout man wearing a black denim jacket, and pants, chains and metal studs all over. His face was obscured by a dark motorcycle helmet, with a skull design hiding his features.
"Biker, Lance just drove off with some friends...make sure this is the last time we have to deal with the pest."Prudence said sternly.
Biker looked up at Prudence, as he pilfered drinks from behind the counter. He simply nodded at him and walked past him. He approached a old chopper bike, and revved it to life.
"Biker! The women that are with him, have yet to prove their souls dark like Lances. Kill the sinner, but bring them to me if you can, I feel as though I can change their hearts..."
Biker nodded in acknowledgment and sped down the streets, passing the burning wreckage, and fading away in the night
Before he burst in rage, Prudence took a breath and calmed himself."They will not get far...soon all the sins they are chasing, will come into the light."He said as he trailed off into the city, followed by his men. He walked into what used to be the cities bar, and inside he found the man he was looking for, a tall and stout man wearing a black denim jacket, and pants, chains and metal studs all over. His face was obscured by a dark motorcycle helmet, with a skull design hiding his features.
"Biker, Lance just drove off with some friends...make sure this is the last time we have to deal with the pest."Prudence said sternly.
Biker looked up at Prudence, as he pilfered drinks from behind the counter. He simply nodded at him and walked past him. He approached a old chopper bike, and revved it to life.
"Biker! The women that are with him, have yet to prove their souls dark like Lances. Kill the sinner, but bring them to me if you can, I feel as though I can change their hearts..."
Biker nodded in acknowledgment and sped down the streets, passing the burning wreckage, and fading away in the night
Jones's gaze was seething, but she was trying to smother it, even as she made eye contact with Lance through the rear-view mirror.
The situation was bigger than ever, and it seemed the group could only travel down the spiraling road to hell. No choice seemed like the right one; everything was risky and Jones hated being out of control. Regardless if she stayed with Lance or ventured off with her mother, Prudence and his cult knew her face-- they would hunt her down.
It would only be a matter of time, all they could do was run away, fight, and hope to delay the inevitable.
Jones didn't respond to Lance's apology, but she listened closely to what he said. She perked when he brought up a safe haven far north in a land called Canada. Jones had never heard of it, but the man spoke fondly of it, clearly having experienced the place once upon a time. Grass and trees, ones that were green; Jones could never imagine trees with healthy leaves, for all that remained in the wastelands were haggard, blackened silhouettes of nuked plants.
Jones wasn't sure how happy the place could make her or her mother, but if it could safe-guard them from the cults until they could get back on their feet, it was an option worth taking.
She let her anger soften, though it was barely noticeable on her features.
She pondered on the man's actions. Lance's hospitality was strange, though not unwelcomed if he would help get them to the facility safely. Jones had never met someone who seemed to care so much, and to some extent, it raised red-flags in her brain; though it shouldn't have. Human to human decency was not a normal thing anymore, and hardly anyone practiced it, including Jones. She wasn't ready to forgive him, but she felt...wrong if she decided to ignore him-- ignore his efforts to redeem himself in the eyes of people whom he barely knew, and who barely knew him.
"If you truly believe this place is safe for us...right for us... then we'll need you to take us to it, like you suggested..."
Jones looked at the rear-view again, catching Lance's gaze, "Maybe..." She hesitated, "Maybe I will be able to...forgive you. If that's what you want in return."
She didn't understand exactly why he seeked their forgiveness. It was common for the people of the wastelands to get into arguments, fights, and feuds that never ended-- at least, not with an act of compassion. And no one ever apologized, no one gave any sympathy: it's a dog-eat-dog world.
Jones guessed the desire was taught to Lance-- old world tradition passed down from his parents and onto him. He was probably one of the few, if not the only wasteland dweller with those manners, because even Farrah tried instilling such things into Jones. It never stuck with the young woman; she was fighting ever since she was small, there was no room for old world shenanigans.
As if reading the topic in Jones's head, Farrah leaned in her seat and gave a short, "Thank you," to Lance.
Jones pushed her back deep into the seat and resigned, looking outside of her window with only the darkness to greet her...
The situation was bigger than ever, and it seemed the group could only travel down the spiraling road to hell. No choice seemed like the right one; everything was risky and Jones hated being out of control. Regardless if she stayed with Lance or ventured off with her mother, Prudence and his cult knew her face-- they would hunt her down.
It would only be a matter of time, all they could do was run away, fight, and hope to delay the inevitable.
Jones didn't respond to Lance's apology, but she listened closely to what he said. She perked when he brought up a safe haven far north in a land called Canada. Jones had never heard of it, but the man spoke fondly of it, clearly having experienced the place once upon a time. Grass and trees, ones that were green; Jones could never imagine trees with healthy leaves, for all that remained in the wastelands were haggard, blackened silhouettes of nuked plants.
Jones wasn't sure how happy the place could make her or her mother, but if it could safe-guard them from the cults until they could get back on their feet, it was an option worth taking.
She let her anger soften, though it was barely noticeable on her features.
She pondered on the man's actions. Lance's hospitality was strange, though not unwelcomed if he would help get them to the facility safely. Jones had never met someone who seemed to care so much, and to some extent, it raised red-flags in her brain; though it shouldn't have. Human to human decency was not a normal thing anymore, and hardly anyone practiced it, including Jones. She wasn't ready to forgive him, but she felt...wrong if she decided to ignore him-- ignore his efforts to redeem himself in the eyes of people whom he barely knew, and who barely knew him.
"If you truly believe this place is safe for us...right for us... then we'll need you to take us to it, like you suggested..."
Jones looked at the rear-view again, catching Lance's gaze, "Maybe..." She hesitated, "Maybe I will be able to...forgive you. If that's what you want in return."
She didn't understand exactly why he seeked their forgiveness. It was common for the people of the wastelands to get into arguments, fights, and feuds that never ended-- at least, not with an act of compassion. And no one ever apologized, no one gave any sympathy: it's a dog-eat-dog world.
Jones guessed the desire was taught to Lance-- old world tradition passed down from his parents and onto him. He was probably one of the few, if not the only wasteland dweller with those manners, because even Farrah tried instilling such things into Jones. It never stuck with the young woman; she was fighting ever since she was small, there was no room for old world shenanigans.
As if reading the topic in Jones's head, Farrah leaned in her seat and gave a short, "Thank you," to Lance.
Jones pushed her back deep into the seat and resigned, looking outside of her window with only the darkness to greet her...
Lance felt almost relieved that she excepted his offer. He settled in his seat and sighed."Then get ready...we have a long bumpy road ahead..."He started his car again and laid his foot on the peddle and sped off."When I find a good spot we can rest...I know you two must be tired...I know I am."He said adding a sigh at the end.
He looked ahead of him at the endless abyss of darkness. The night sky was beautiful, without any lights on the ground covering the stars, it shone brighter then ever in the old world. Small things like that add beauty to an otherwise bleak world.
He felt a sudden weight on his shoulders like he never had before. He never had to try to take care of anyone like this before, he never had any partners or anyone to stick with him longer then a day or two. Part of him was almost happy, he had not been in such company since his family died, but another part of him could feel the heat from Jones anger from where he sat. He could already tell that getting her to warm up any would probably be near impossible, and Lances social skills where not going to help the situation any.
As they drove Lance caught eyes of a run down motel off the road. He slowed the car down and pulled it into the Motels garage, where they used to do a tune up on your car for a little extra cash. He shut the engine off and turned off the lights and reached around the back, avoiding getting in Jones personal bubble as he grabbed a lantern."These old motels are always a good place to stay the night I think...you guys can pick out a room if you like, I am going to search around this place for anything useful."He said as he sparked the flame in the lantern and handed it to Farrah."There you go miss."He said as he reached into his jackets pocked and pulled out a head lamp and tied it around his head."And dont worry about sleeping with one eye open...I will stay up for a while and make sure everything quite."He told them while he opened his door.
The night was still and quite, which never seemed right. When its quite like this, its almost like it puts you far on edge, like you are just waiting to hear that bump in the night. You could hear every footstep in great detail as Lance stepped on the dusty concrete. There was no white noise to ease anyone to sleep, just the stillness of the night.
He looked ahead of him at the endless abyss of darkness. The night sky was beautiful, without any lights on the ground covering the stars, it shone brighter then ever in the old world. Small things like that add beauty to an otherwise bleak world.
He felt a sudden weight on his shoulders like he never had before. He never had to try to take care of anyone like this before, he never had any partners or anyone to stick with him longer then a day or two. Part of him was almost happy, he had not been in such company since his family died, but another part of him could feel the heat from Jones anger from where he sat. He could already tell that getting her to warm up any would probably be near impossible, and Lances social skills where not going to help the situation any.
As they drove Lance caught eyes of a run down motel off the road. He slowed the car down and pulled it into the Motels garage, where they used to do a tune up on your car for a little extra cash. He shut the engine off and turned off the lights and reached around the back, avoiding getting in Jones personal bubble as he grabbed a lantern."These old motels are always a good place to stay the night I think...you guys can pick out a room if you like, I am going to search around this place for anything useful."He said as he sparked the flame in the lantern and handed it to Farrah."There you go miss."He said as he reached into his jackets pocked and pulled out a head lamp and tied it around his head."And dont worry about sleeping with one eye open...I will stay up for a while and make sure everything quite."He told them while he opened his door.
The night was still and quite, which never seemed right. When its quite like this, its almost like it puts you far on edge, like you are just waiting to hear that bump in the night. You could hear every footstep in great detail as Lance stepped on the dusty concrete. There was no white noise to ease anyone to sleep, just the stillness of the night.
When Jones stepped out of the car she was greeted by the cold night air, and a gently creeping silence that hovered above the group like a cloud.
They stopped in an old withering husk of what used to be a motel, and Jones eyed the area wearily. It wasn't normal to find standing buildings after the war, not unless they were reconstructed by the dwellers-- this place was like an anomaly...or a blessing.
Jones crossed her arms, feeling the wind raise goosebumps across her skin just before her mother prodded her side, holding a flame lit lantern in her hand. “Let's scope out the rooms,” Farrah spoke, and her voice was low and tired, not unlike everyone else.
Jones looked at the older woman for a moment before glancing over her shoulder, catching glimpse of Lance wandering off with a light upon his forehead. “That safe haven…” the young woman started as she and her mother trailed off toward the stairs.
Farrah glanced at her with an eyebrow cocked, “what about it?”
Jones let her eyes wander, while the rusted steps rattled and groaned like old men under her boots, “What… what do you think of it?”
Her mother shrugged, “It sounds safe.”
“I know what it sounds like,” Jones strained, “it's just-- can a place like that really exist?”
Farrah raised her arm that held the lantern, waving it in Jones’s face and nearly blinding her, “Why can't it? Lance seems to know what he's talking about,” Farrah looked at her daughter slyly, “Is he lying? Is that what you're thinking, Jonell?”
Jones shook her head and batted her mother away in frustration.
That’s when they reached the top floor of the motel and Jones tried the first door. Locked… She fiddled with the rickety old handle.
“Is that what you're thinking?” Farrah’s voice came from behind the young woman, still pestering her with the question. Jones furrowed her brow, “That's not it,” she shook the handle, hoping the rusted piece of junk would just fall off, but it was sturdier than it looked.
“I don't think he's lying, I'm just asking…” a frustrated kiss of her teeth interrupted her words as her attempts failed, “-can that place still be there? How- how can a safe haven survive in this--” she kicked the door knob once, twice, three times and it flew open with an angry slam, “--shit-hole?” She finished with a curse.
Dust and specks of wood floated from the abused door, and broken hinges now hung limply from the threshold of the entrance. The women peered inside the room. It was dark, darker than the night sky, and the atmosphere was dank-- murky like tainted water.
The conversation ceased once they stepped inside, as all train of thought became lost while the two inspected the area.
Jones followed Farrah, staying just a few paces in front of her, while her hand hovered over the pocket that hid her shiv. Something seemed off about the motel room, and it was quite obvious the moment a rank stench hit Jones's nostrils. Farrah had already covered her nose with the hem of her shirt, and Jones followed in suit while her face contorted at the offensive smell.
“Something’s dead...” her mother rasped, and Jones nodded stiffly before pointing at something on the floor. The gloomy amber light from the lantern revealed it just barely, and the young woman knelt down to inspect what it was closely.
Thick, brown, bushels of hair were scattered across the carpet in haphazardous clumps. The largest pile was soaked in a thick, black, substance that had dried into the carpet long ago.
Jones couldn't make heads or tails of it, but her mother muttered, “Radiation…” Jones looked at the woman and stood. They looked at each other, “It's radiation poisoning,” The older woman went on, “this...this must've happened a long time ago. This person died long ago.”
“But they're still in here,” Jones remarked, squeezing her nose as emphasis. Farrah made a face, like she was sickened by something, but her shirt covered her mouth and her nose, so Jones couldn't tell so much.
“I don't want to be in here,” The older woman said suddenly, “Let's find another room…”
Jones made a noise while her brows lowered and her forehead wrinkled with confusion. “We're already here,” She protested, “We can just-”,
“I'm not looking for that body, Jonell… If you wanna be in here then fine, I'm not doin’ it.” Farrah snapped. Jones looked at her mother, but she didn't get angry; instead, a tired sigh left the young woman as she held out her hand, “I'll be quick.”
Farrah scowled, “I can't believe you,” She seethed, but she gave Jones the lantern regardless.
"It's not the first time we've had to move a body, mum..."
"...That doesn't make it any easier...you know that."
Jones turned away, venturing further into the small room, trying not to think too hard about her mother's words. She followed her nose, wrapping the cloth of her shirt around her face tightly as the smell quickly became stronger. Her eyes followed the dim light from the fire as it illuminated the source of the stench. It came from behind the cracked door of the bathroom, whisking out foul odors of death, but Jones pushed it open.
Like a heat wave-- hot, muggy air, condensed with the putrid stink of decay came flooding out from the bathroom, choking Jones. Every breath was an inhale of reeking spoil, and the young woman had to harden her will to push past the threshold. She stepped inside, her boots clicking timidly across the tile as she shined her light and let her eyes settle on a pitiful display.
The petrified corpse, of what barely resembled a human being, laid naked on the floor of the bath tub, shriveled and smelly from decay, and bloated stiff with rigor mortis. There was no way to tell if they were a man or woman, young or old; they were simply a wretched carcass now. Jones frowned softly, reaching over to move the shower curtains when a scattering movement stopped her.
She wrenched her arm away, and her senses were set ablaze as she stepped back.
She shined the lantern, only to have whatever creature that was present cower in the corner of the tub, hiding behind the body. Jones pulled a face with several emotions mixed into one as she managed to strangle out, "Sick..."
The creature...was a dog, though it looked more or less like a rat. It was a scrawny, hairless, skeletal form of an old world mutt that shook like an earthquake was rocking through the building. Jones was amazed that the thing was still alive, but from the telltale chips and chunks of human remains scattered in the tub, she could guess how it managed...
"Man's best friend..." Jones recalled her mother saying, as she looked at the miserable creature that cowered behind its former owner; its daily snack. She pressed her palm against her face, trying not to let the disgust, the shock, or the grief set in as she took a long choked breath of the deathly air, and returned to Farrah.
"A different room... Let's-- let's find a different one."
They stopped in an old withering husk of what used to be a motel, and Jones eyed the area wearily. It wasn't normal to find standing buildings after the war, not unless they were reconstructed by the dwellers-- this place was like an anomaly...or a blessing.
Jones crossed her arms, feeling the wind raise goosebumps across her skin just before her mother prodded her side, holding a flame lit lantern in her hand. “Let's scope out the rooms,” Farrah spoke, and her voice was low and tired, not unlike everyone else.
Jones looked at the older woman for a moment before glancing over her shoulder, catching glimpse of Lance wandering off with a light upon his forehead. “That safe haven…” the young woman started as she and her mother trailed off toward the stairs.
Farrah glanced at her with an eyebrow cocked, “what about it?”
Jones let her eyes wander, while the rusted steps rattled and groaned like old men under her boots, “What… what do you think of it?”
Her mother shrugged, “It sounds safe.”
“I know what it sounds like,” Jones strained, “it's just-- can a place like that really exist?”
Farrah raised her arm that held the lantern, waving it in Jones’s face and nearly blinding her, “Why can't it? Lance seems to know what he's talking about,” Farrah looked at her daughter slyly, “Is he lying? Is that what you're thinking, Jonell?”
Jones shook her head and batted her mother away in frustration.
That’s when they reached the top floor of the motel and Jones tried the first door. Locked… She fiddled with the rickety old handle.
“Is that what you're thinking?” Farrah’s voice came from behind the young woman, still pestering her with the question. Jones furrowed her brow, “That's not it,” she shook the handle, hoping the rusted piece of junk would just fall off, but it was sturdier than it looked.
“I don't think he's lying, I'm just asking…” a frustrated kiss of her teeth interrupted her words as her attempts failed, “-can that place still be there? How- how can a safe haven survive in this--” she kicked the door knob once, twice, three times and it flew open with an angry slam, “--shit-hole?” She finished with a curse.
Dust and specks of wood floated from the abused door, and broken hinges now hung limply from the threshold of the entrance. The women peered inside the room. It was dark, darker than the night sky, and the atmosphere was dank-- murky like tainted water.
The conversation ceased once they stepped inside, as all train of thought became lost while the two inspected the area.
Jones followed Farrah, staying just a few paces in front of her, while her hand hovered over the pocket that hid her shiv. Something seemed off about the motel room, and it was quite obvious the moment a rank stench hit Jones's nostrils. Farrah had already covered her nose with the hem of her shirt, and Jones followed in suit while her face contorted at the offensive smell.
“Something’s dead...” her mother rasped, and Jones nodded stiffly before pointing at something on the floor. The gloomy amber light from the lantern revealed it just barely, and the young woman knelt down to inspect what it was closely.
Thick, brown, bushels of hair were scattered across the carpet in haphazardous clumps. The largest pile was soaked in a thick, black, substance that had dried into the carpet long ago.
Jones couldn't make heads or tails of it, but her mother muttered, “Radiation…” Jones looked at the woman and stood. They looked at each other, “It's radiation poisoning,” The older woman went on, “this...this must've happened a long time ago. This person died long ago.”
“But they're still in here,” Jones remarked, squeezing her nose as emphasis. Farrah made a face, like she was sickened by something, but her shirt covered her mouth and her nose, so Jones couldn't tell so much.
“I don't want to be in here,” The older woman said suddenly, “Let's find another room…”
Jones made a noise while her brows lowered and her forehead wrinkled with confusion. “We're already here,” She protested, “We can just-”,
“I'm not looking for that body, Jonell… If you wanna be in here then fine, I'm not doin’ it.” Farrah snapped. Jones looked at her mother, but she didn't get angry; instead, a tired sigh left the young woman as she held out her hand, “I'll be quick.”
Farrah scowled, “I can't believe you,” She seethed, but she gave Jones the lantern regardless.
"It's not the first time we've had to move a body, mum..."
"...That doesn't make it any easier...you know that."
Jones turned away, venturing further into the small room, trying not to think too hard about her mother's words. She followed her nose, wrapping the cloth of her shirt around her face tightly as the smell quickly became stronger. Her eyes followed the dim light from the fire as it illuminated the source of the stench. It came from behind the cracked door of the bathroom, whisking out foul odors of death, but Jones pushed it open.
Like a heat wave-- hot, muggy air, condensed with the putrid stink of decay came flooding out from the bathroom, choking Jones. Every breath was an inhale of reeking spoil, and the young woman had to harden her will to push past the threshold. She stepped inside, her boots clicking timidly across the tile as she shined her light and let her eyes settle on a pitiful display.
The petrified corpse, of what barely resembled a human being, laid naked on the floor of the bath tub, shriveled and smelly from decay, and bloated stiff with rigor mortis. There was no way to tell if they were a man or woman, young or old; they were simply a wretched carcass now. Jones frowned softly, reaching over to move the shower curtains when a scattering movement stopped her.
She wrenched her arm away, and her senses were set ablaze as she stepped back.
She shined the lantern, only to have whatever creature that was present cower in the corner of the tub, hiding behind the body. Jones pulled a face with several emotions mixed into one as she managed to strangle out, "Sick..."
The creature...was a dog, though it looked more or less like a rat. It was a scrawny, hairless, skeletal form of an old world mutt that shook like an earthquake was rocking through the building. Jones was amazed that the thing was still alive, but from the telltale chips and chunks of human remains scattered in the tub, she could guess how it managed...
"Man's best friend..." Jones recalled her mother saying, as she looked at the miserable creature that cowered behind its former owner; its daily snack. She pressed her palm against her face, trying not to let the disgust, the shock, or the grief set in as she took a long choked breath of the deathly air, and returned to Farrah.
"A different room... Let's-- let's find a different one."
(funny you did that with the dog, leads perfectly into what I was about to do lol)
Lance watched them walk off into the motel, keeping a watchful eye for a moment, to see any movement other then their own. His eyes shifted back to the garage in front of them. It was amazing to him as well that everything was able to stay intact, though this was not too uncommon, if the structure was strong enough, or far enough from one of the blast, it would normally still stand.
He stepped around the garage, his footsteps disturbing the dirt and glass along the ground, making slight crunchy noises as he walked. He saw a old tool box against a wall, and approached it to get a closer look. He grabbed the handle and tried to pull a cabinet open but it didn't budge. His eyes furrowed a little as he went for his knife to try and pry it open, until he conveniently noticed a key on the top of the box. He looked at it for a moment, before picking it up and using it on the lock. It popped right open.
"Whats the use of locking it if you're just gonna leave the key there...."He said to himself.
As the door opened several bugs crawled out, cockraoches and spiders, but nothing to harmful. He pointed his light down into the box, where he saw several things of use to him, a couple of spark plugs, some old wrenches, and a few fuzes, all of which seemed in reasonable condition. He pocketed what he could and stepped outside.
He looked around the motel and saw the building out front of the motel, with the sign Shepherds Motel on the top. and back at Farrah and Jones on the top floor."If you need me Im going to be in the uh...."He said as he looked at the sign hanging on the door."Welcoming....center....It has a pretty good view of the place. Ill let you two sleep in your rooms, and I will keep watch in here. If you hear footsteps in the night, hollar, because as long as I am in there, you shouldnt hear none."He said to them."Try and sleep well, hopefully we can make some ground tomorrow."He called to them before he tried out the door. Of course it was locked.
He examined the door for a moment, and noticed the window was broken, so he simply just stuck his hand through the broken window frame and unlocked it from the other side, and opened the door. As he walked in and moved his headlamp around, he saw he was in some sort of lounge area, with ripped up couches and chairs, a TV on a entertainment center, and vending machines, with food that is no doubt way past the fresh date. And oddly enough on the floor, there where a bunch of dog food bags ripped open, and food pellets along the floor."Hmpf...'He mouthed to himself as he walked further in. Lance saw the receptionist desk and cautiously stepped behind the counter. Under the desk he saw a dog, which was almost not surprising to him after seeing the food. The dog was a sleep but its ear perked up as he stepped around the corner and it quickly rose to his feet and growled at Lance. Lance looked down at the dog, unfazed. The animal actually looked rather healthy, it seemed like he found himself a supply of food that he has been keeping himself fed with, and he has been stuck in here with no way out, so his fur was fine, as he was sheltered from the elements. The dog looked like a blue healer, though Lance would not know that as he a dog is just a dog by his knowledge. The frightened creature gnarled its teeth and moved around lance slowly with its tail tucked under its legs. Lance rose his shoulders and growled viciously back at the dog, lunging forward a little as he did. The dog whimpered and scurried off out of Lances view.
Lance gave a sigh as the dog left. Part of him hopped it would be fine wherever it went. He saw a door behind the counter, with a label that said, storage. Eager to see what he could find in there he quickly rushed to the door, almost like a child excited to go into a candy store. The door was again, locked. But he didnt let that stop him this time as he stepped back a little and rammed his shoulder into the feeble wooden door. The door collapsed under his weight, making Lance stumble forward a little as he entered the room
He moved his headlamp around the room seeing what he could find, there was a bunch of food laying around, but all of it was rotten, or radiated, and the putrefied and musky smell helped prove that. He raised his bandanna over his nose to help cope with the smell as he searched around. There where plenty of shelves each dedicated to its own thing, but nothing of use. However Lance caught eye of a small shelf labeled, nonperishable. Lance very well knew what that word meant, as nonperishable foods where like the holy grail in these trying times. And he found pleanty of things in here, food that picky eaters back in the day would not normally go to, there fore leaving plenty for him and the others. Among the items he found, was Peanut butter crackers, Beef jerky Fruit cups, Granola and Cereal bars, something called a spaghetti-os, some Ramen noodles, Trail mix and Fruit snacks, Macaroni and cheese, Lances favorite, some Boxed drinks and juices, a couple cans of Vienna sausages, a strange square looking thing called Pop tarts, and cans of beans.
Lance grinned widely at the find, thankful no one else pillaged this place before them. He gathered everything off the shelf, and dumped it in his bag, leaving a can of beans out for himself. The girls would surly be happy to see this, but he was wanted to let them rest, so he would present it to them tomorrow morning.
He tossed the bag over his shoulder and began walking out before another thing caught his eye, boxes with names of something on them, kind of like books. He reached for the boxes to examine them, and picked out one titled, 2001, A Space Odyssey. He looked into the case, and noticed it was not a book, but something he had seen before in his travels, a VHS tape.
He loved the old relics from the days before the flash, and often collected them, so he put it in his bag as well, even if he would never be able to see it. However
before he walked out he noticed yet another thing along the wall, a fuze box. His eyes looked at it a little curiously, he remembered watching his father flip the switch on one of these before, and it caused the whole house to light up and come to life, like it once was long ago. Eager to test this out, he flipped the switch on the side. Unfortunately, nothing happened. Lances shoulders sank slightly and he sighed to himself as he turned around to the door.
He stepped forward a couple times before stopping and turning back around. He thought to himself that he might as well take a look inside it to see if he could fix anything, so he approached it again, and jammed his knife in the panel and pried it open. The panel creaked slightly before pinging open.
He closely examined all the parts inside it, not really knowing what anything was. However he noticed a couple of fuzes, much like the one he found, but one of them was busted open."Well might as well give this a shot..."He mumbled to himself as he grabbed the broken fuze. It took him a moment to figure out how to get out but after a few twist and turns he managed to work its way out.
He dug the fuze out his bag and replaced the one he removed. After making sure everything seemed in place, he pulled the switch again.
To his surprise, the motel shot into life, light switches left on flickered on and refrigerators hummed with their life being breathed back into them, and all across the motel there was a subtle hum from the electricity coursing through the generator. He thought for sure that the electricity would be gone for good, but this place has just been one miracle after another.
Lance smiled to himself, happy with everything he found and accomplished in this place. Part of him almost wished he could stay now, though he knew that would not at all be possible. Even though he had worked to just get the lights on, he quickly turned the lights in the room he was in back off, so he didnt gather too much attention. He stepped back into the lounge, and noticed the TV in there was on, with a logo saying SONY bouncing around the screen. Lance stared it, mesmerized by the visual. He stepped a little closer to it and sat on the couch in front of it, just staring at it in awe. His eyes wondered around the device, and noticed some kind of port with a plastic flap over it in the bottom of it for something. Lances father used to carry a cassette player with him, playing music as they traveled, and this device seemed the same, only bigger.
Lances knocked around his brain for a moment trying to figure out what it could be, until his mind clicked about the VHS tape he found moments ago. He retrieve from his bag and examined its width and height, seemed like a perfect fit. He took the tape and inserted it into the slot, and the machine took it eagerly from him. Lance watched as the screen cut to black and was quite for a moment, before the screen opened back up, and started listing names on the screens, before showing the movie.
Lance was lost in wonder, joy, excitement, and man other things as he watched the movie. He heard about these, but never thought he would see one in his life. The visuals where breath taking, and each scene seemed better then the last. Lance popped open his can of beans and watched the movie intently as he ate from the can.
A little while passed as he watched the movie, and the dog from before returned to him. Despite their previous encounter, he keeled on the floor below him, begging for the food he had. Lance looked down at the dog, not sure what to make of him. He lowered the can down and let the dog eat a couple of his beans. The dog perked up as the can was brought to him, and he eagerly ate as man beans as he could before the can was pulled away."Are you okay now boy?"Lance asked the dog. The dog hopped onto the couch with him and curled up next to him and rested its head."Funny how quick a dog can be to trust someone...I guess we have some things in common."Lance said as he patted the dogs head and continued watching the movie.
As the night dragged on, Lance kept rewinding the tape every time it finished, and watching the movie again, until he could not keep his eyes open anymore, and drifted to sleep, with only about an hour or two before sunrise, and there journey would begin.
Lance watched them walk off into the motel, keeping a watchful eye for a moment, to see any movement other then their own. His eyes shifted back to the garage in front of them. It was amazing to him as well that everything was able to stay intact, though this was not too uncommon, if the structure was strong enough, or far enough from one of the blast, it would normally still stand.
He stepped around the garage, his footsteps disturbing the dirt and glass along the ground, making slight crunchy noises as he walked. He saw a old tool box against a wall, and approached it to get a closer look. He grabbed the handle and tried to pull a cabinet open but it didn't budge. His eyes furrowed a little as he went for his knife to try and pry it open, until he conveniently noticed a key on the top of the box. He looked at it for a moment, before picking it up and using it on the lock. It popped right open.
"Whats the use of locking it if you're just gonna leave the key there...."He said to himself.
As the door opened several bugs crawled out, cockraoches and spiders, but nothing to harmful. He pointed his light down into the box, where he saw several things of use to him, a couple of spark plugs, some old wrenches, and a few fuzes, all of which seemed in reasonable condition. He pocketed what he could and stepped outside.
He looked around the motel and saw the building out front of the motel, with the sign Shepherds Motel on the top. and back at Farrah and Jones on the top floor."If you need me Im going to be in the uh...."He said as he looked at the sign hanging on the door."Welcoming....center....It has a pretty good view of the place. Ill let you two sleep in your rooms, and I will keep watch in here. If you hear footsteps in the night, hollar, because as long as I am in there, you shouldnt hear none."He said to them."Try and sleep well, hopefully we can make some ground tomorrow."He called to them before he tried out the door. Of course it was locked.
He examined the door for a moment, and noticed the window was broken, so he simply just stuck his hand through the broken window frame and unlocked it from the other side, and opened the door. As he walked in and moved his headlamp around, he saw he was in some sort of lounge area, with ripped up couches and chairs, a TV on a entertainment center, and vending machines, with food that is no doubt way past the fresh date. And oddly enough on the floor, there where a bunch of dog food bags ripped open, and food pellets along the floor."Hmpf...'He mouthed to himself as he walked further in. Lance saw the receptionist desk and cautiously stepped behind the counter. Under the desk he saw a dog, which was almost not surprising to him after seeing the food. The dog was a sleep but its ear perked up as he stepped around the corner and it quickly rose to his feet and growled at Lance. Lance looked down at the dog, unfazed. The animal actually looked rather healthy, it seemed like he found himself a supply of food that he has been keeping himself fed with, and he has been stuck in here with no way out, so his fur was fine, as he was sheltered from the elements. The dog looked like a blue healer, though Lance would not know that as he a dog is just a dog by his knowledge. The frightened creature gnarled its teeth and moved around lance slowly with its tail tucked under its legs. Lance rose his shoulders and growled viciously back at the dog, lunging forward a little as he did. The dog whimpered and scurried off out of Lances view.
Lance gave a sigh as the dog left. Part of him hopped it would be fine wherever it went. He saw a door behind the counter, with a label that said, storage. Eager to see what he could find in there he quickly rushed to the door, almost like a child excited to go into a candy store. The door was again, locked. But he didnt let that stop him this time as he stepped back a little and rammed his shoulder into the feeble wooden door. The door collapsed under his weight, making Lance stumble forward a little as he entered the room
He moved his headlamp around the room seeing what he could find, there was a bunch of food laying around, but all of it was rotten, or radiated, and the putrefied and musky smell helped prove that. He raised his bandanna over his nose to help cope with the smell as he searched around. There where plenty of shelves each dedicated to its own thing, but nothing of use. However Lance caught eye of a small shelf labeled, nonperishable. Lance very well knew what that word meant, as nonperishable foods where like the holy grail in these trying times. And he found pleanty of things in here, food that picky eaters back in the day would not normally go to, there fore leaving plenty for him and the others. Among the items he found, was Peanut butter crackers, Beef jerky Fruit cups, Granola and Cereal bars, something called a spaghetti-os, some Ramen noodles, Trail mix and Fruit snacks, Macaroni and cheese, Lances favorite, some Boxed drinks and juices, a couple cans of Vienna sausages, a strange square looking thing called Pop tarts, and cans of beans.
Lance grinned widely at the find, thankful no one else pillaged this place before them. He gathered everything off the shelf, and dumped it in his bag, leaving a can of beans out for himself. The girls would surly be happy to see this, but he was wanted to let them rest, so he would present it to them tomorrow morning.
He tossed the bag over his shoulder and began walking out before another thing caught his eye, boxes with names of something on them, kind of like books. He reached for the boxes to examine them, and picked out one titled, 2001, A Space Odyssey. He looked into the case, and noticed it was not a book, but something he had seen before in his travels, a VHS tape.
He loved the old relics from the days before the flash, and often collected them, so he put it in his bag as well, even if he would never be able to see it. However
before he walked out he noticed yet another thing along the wall, a fuze box. His eyes looked at it a little curiously, he remembered watching his father flip the switch on one of these before, and it caused the whole house to light up and come to life, like it once was long ago. Eager to test this out, he flipped the switch on the side. Unfortunately, nothing happened. Lances shoulders sank slightly and he sighed to himself as he turned around to the door.
He stepped forward a couple times before stopping and turning back around. He thought to himself that he might as well take a look inside it to see if he could fix anything, so he approached it again, and jammed his knife in the panel and pried it open. The panel creaked slightly before pinging open.
He closely examined all the parts inside it, not really knowing what anything was. However he noticed a couple of fuzes, much like the one he found, but one of them was busted open."Well might as well give this a shot..."He mumbled to himself as he grabbed the broken fuze. It took him a moment to figure out how to get out but after a few twist and turns he managed to work its way out.
He dug the fuze out his bag and replaced the one he removed. After making sure everything seemed in place, he pulled the switch again.
To his surprise, the motel shot into life, light switches left on flickered on and refrigerators hummed with their life being breathed back into them, and all across the motel there was a subtle hum from the electricity coursing through the generator. He thought for sure that the electricity would be gone for good, but this place has just been one miracle after another.
Lance smiled to himself, happy with everything he found and accomplished in this place. Part of him almost wished he could stay now, though he knew that would not at all be possible. Even though he had worked to just get the lights on, he quickly turned the lights in the room he was in back off, so he didnt gather too much attention. He stepped back into the lounge, and noticed the TV in there was on, with a logo saying SONY bouncing around the screen. Lance stared it, mesmerized by the visual. He stepped a little closer to it and sat on the couch in front of it, just staring at it in awe. His eyes wondered around the device, and noticed some kind of port with a plastic flap over it in the bottom of it for something. Lances father used to carry a cassette player with him, playing music as they traveled, and this device seemed the same, only bigger.
Lances knocked around his brain for a moment trying to figure out what it could be, until his mind clicked about the VHS tape he found moments ago. He retrieve from his bag and examined its width and height, seemed like a perfect fit. He took the tape and inserted it into the slot, and the machine took it eagerly from him. Lance watched as the screen cut to black and was quite for a moment, before the screen opened back up, and started listing names on the screens, before showing the movie.
Lance was lost in wonder, joy, excitement, and man other things as he watched the movie. He heard about these, but never thought he would see one in his life. The visuals where breath taking, and each scene seemed better then the last. Lance popped open his can of beans and watched the movie intently as he ate from the can.
A little while passed as he watched the movie, and the dog from before returned to him. Despite their previous encounter, he keeled on the floor below him, begging for the food he had. Lance looked down at the dog, not sure what to make of him. He lowered the can down and let the dog eat a couple of his beans. The dog perked up as the can was brought to him, and he eagerly ate as man beans as he could before the can was pulled away."Are you okay now boy?"Lance asked the dog. The dog hopped onto the couch with him and curled up next to him and rested its head."Funny how quick a dog can be to trust someone...I guess we have some things in common."Lance said as he patted the dogs head and continued watching the movie.
As the night dragged on, Lance kept rewinding the tape every time it finished, and watching the movie again, until he could not keep his eyes open anymore, and drifted to sleep, with only about an hour or two before sunrise, and there journey would begin.
Jones crossed her arms, holding them to comfort herself and to forget about the stench of death that plagued the room. She shut the door as much as she could, but it slowly crept open seeing as how she had broke the hinges. Her mother was looking at her, a stern disapproval clear on her withered face as she began walking, taking the lantern back from the young woman.
"I told you we should've just found another room, I told you!"
Jones trailed behind her mother, "I know..." She said softly, and her mother only shook her head. "Now you went and saw something you shouldn't've," the woman looked back, "Right?" Jones peeked up at her mother and flattened her mouth sternly, "Yes."
They crossed over to the other units of the motel, trying each door before they found one that was relatively easy to pry open. The radiated doorknob practically crumpled to metallic dust as Farrah went to jiggle it, and she could easily remove the lock. The door opened up shyly, encouraged by Farrah's hand as she pushed it in and peered at the interior. It was dark, just like the previous room, with the silhouettes of a fully furnished bedroom: a bed, a lamppost, some cabinets, and a television set. They stepped inside, and just as they did, the lights turned on in a great, sudden flash, accompanied by a distinct buzzing noise. Electricity was still flowing.
Jones jumped in terror, caught completely off guard by the suddeness of the light, and whipping her head every which way. Even Farrah seemed a little shaken up by the surprise as she froze up just a bit, before they both realized there was no threat. Jones let out a sigh, a quiet breath of relief, while her mother looked at her and chuckled. The young woman furrowed her brows with a slight pout, "You got scared too." She pointed out in assumption, but her mother only laughed more, "I-I'm really laughin' at the both of us." Jones rose a brow, and closed the door while her mother set the lantern on a dusty, dry-rotting cabinet top.
"What's funny about us?"
Farrah let her chuckles die with a cough and a grunt to clear her throat, "Well, we're in here gettin' all spooked over some lights coming on... Like we've never seen it before!" She laughed again, and covered her mouth to muffle the noise. Jones couldn't help but feel an awkward smile make its way onto her mouth as she watched her mother's mood switch so suddenly. It was nice, but unexpected. She looked around the room and her eyes fell on the bathroom door, which was wide open.
"Let's check this place out, mum," Jones instructed, but the woman questioned with a slowly dying laugh, "Why? I don't smell any rot, or see any hair. Wouldn't it be better to just sleep?"
"We can't overlook anything--" "I know, hun. I know, trust me, I made the rules..." Farrah reassured calmly, somehow maintaining her smile. Jones pursed her mouth in slight annoyance, "...You don't act like it..." she said, but Farrah caught the last bit of Jones's mumbling and gave a slight glare, "What did you say?"
Jones escaped toward the bathroom, "I said, let's check the rooms."
"Sure you did,"
"I did."
The young woman smiled before walking into the bathroom, instinctively glancing at the bath tub. There was nothing in there but dust, and the young woman was grateful for not having to experience something like the other room again. Really there was nothing of great importance in the bathroom, but just as Jones was going to turn and leave, she saw something move in the corner of her eye. She turned her head and to her surprise, she saw her reflection looking back at her. Her eyes widened and the young woman was entrapped by the sight, having her legs move on their own as she went closer to her reflection. Her hand was already moving out to touch the glass, to inspect it and feel the material under her fingertips.
She looked at the square shaped glass, studying herself closely in awe. It wasn't the first time she had seen herself, or even a mirror, but for her to have found one so big, and it wasn't cracked or shattered! She had never seen anything in such perfect and preserved condition. Jones made eye contact with her reflection, studying the features of her face intensly because she knew she would likely never see it so clearly again. Nothing much had changed since the last time she had checked, except she looked older...tired. There was smudges of dirt on her cheeks; probably from the explosions; and she swiped them off with a thumb. Then she spotted the soft skin of her busted lip trying to put itself together again, covering itself with a thin scab. She touched it gently.
"You find something in there, Jonell?" She could Farrah call from the other room. Jones let her eyes cut away from her face, looking at the bathroom door as she answered, "No, everything's fine in here."
"Same out here! Checked the bed for critters, and I think we're okay for tonight."
Jones gave a weak smile and glanced at her reflection one last time before exiting the bathroom. She found her mother flinging the bed sheets, letting them air out before resting them back on the mattress and making the bed again. Jones sat on the bed once the woman was finished, and her mother did the same, rocking the bed as she plopped down with excessive force. "It's nice to have a bed again, eh?" Farrah asked, though her back was facing her daughter. Jones fiddled with the sheets, "I don't remember," she mumbled and Farrah sighed, "Right..."
"Well, at least we have light...that's something," the woman tried lamely, and Jones nodded in agreement before laying on her back, comforted by the unusual feel of a pillow under her head. "Take your shoes off if you're going to sleep," her mother chided and Jones moaned something under her breath before sitting up. She unlaced her boots and slipped them off one by one, setting them side by side at the foot of the bed. She laid down again and closed her eyes. "Could you get the lights, mum?" She mumbled. The bed shifted, then eased, and the lights flickered off, leaving the two in complete darkness. Jones could feel Farrah return and lay down beside her. Their arms brushed due to how small the bed was for two grown women, but neither of them were bothered.
"What did you see in that room, Jonell?" Her mother asked suddenly, breaking the long minutes of silence. Jones wanted to pretend she was asleep, but her mother nudged her side with a mean force. "What you would expect..."
"What was it?"
The young woman shifted uncomfortably, trying to reposition her pillow and stall her answer for a bit. Farrah nudged her again, and it hurt this time. "I found a body...just like you knew," Jones groaned, and she licked her scabbing lip, "and...there was a dog with it." Her mother didn't say anything but Jones decided to continue, "The thing was scraggly, all bones and no meat. But it was in there with the body, still alive, and-- feeding on it..."
Jones opened her eyes, soaking in the blackness of the room while her mother laid still on her back. It was quiet.
"I wish you didn't have to see things like that..."
The young woman shut her eyes, deciding not to speak again and she turned on her left, pushing her face deep into the pillow-- ignoring its old, musty smell. It was a long time before she fell asleep, and even still, her rest was unpleasant and disturbed.
The next morning, Jones awoke with a start as she sat up in the bed and glanced around with tired eyes. Her mother had gone from the room, which was evident from the slightly opened door, and the fact that the woman was walking inside right now. They looked at each other before Farrah greeted, "Good morning." "Where did you go?" Jones demanded while hopping off the bed.
"Why don't you take a wild guess, Jones?"
The young woman made a face before shaking her head, slipping her boots on and tying the laces. "Why don't you go look for Lance? Haven't seen him in a while." Jones stood up, "Y'know, I'm sure he's busy," Farrah shrugged and swayed her hands like she were weighing something, "Maybe, maybe not. Go check on him." Jones tightened her jaw, "I just woke up. Why didn't you look for him while you were down there?" "Just do as I say, Jonell."
The young woman sighed and let her head sag in defeat for a quick second before turning to the door. She pushed the handle-less door open, but before she stepped outside, her mother stopped her. She looked at Farrah, unimpressed as the woman approached her holding something around her hand. "Last thing before you go," Farrah said before motioning for her daughter to turn around. Jones groaned in complaint, but did so anyways, facing her back to her mother. "I found this while I was out. It'll keep your hair in place." Her mother said as she put Jones's hair up with a hair tie. When she finished, she turned Jones around and looked at her daughter, "See? You look nice and neat now."
Jones pursed her lips, tempted to go back to the bathroom and look at herself, but quickly deciding against it.
"I can't see it so..." Jones trailed off and her mother laughed, "You know what I mean, get going now." Jones shook her head, but turned away and left down the stairs. When she got to the ground level, she remembered that Lance had called out to them last night to tell them where he would be. Jones let that be her lead as she walked to a smaller building adjacent to the motel, and opened the door.
She was greeted by the sight of Lance sleeping, and a dog of all things curled up right beside him. Jones eyed the dog, already feeling a strange anxiety build up as she wondered if the animal would too eat the dead. She ignored it and stepped inside, closing the door, and inspecting the details of the room before calling out to wake Lance up.
"Lance. Lance? Wake up..."
"I told you we should've just found another room, I told you!"
Jones trailed behind her mother, "I know..." She said softly, and her mother only shook her head. "Now you went and saw something you shouldn't've," the woman looked back, "Right?" Jones peeked up at her mother and flattened her mouth sternly, "Yes."
They crossed over to the other units of the motel, trying each door before they found one that was relatively easy to pry open. The radiated doorknob practically crumpled to metallic dust as Farrah went to jiggle it, and she could easily remove the lock. The door opened up shyly, encouraged by Farrah's hand as she pushed it in and peered at the interior. It was dark, just like the previous room, with the silhouettes of a fully furnished bedroom: a bed, a lamppost, some cabinets, and a television set. They stepped inside, and just as they did, the lights turned on in a great, sudden flash, accompanied by a distinct buzzing noise. Electricity was still flowing.
Jones jumped in terror, caught completely off guard by the suddeness of the light, and whipping her head every which way. Even Farrah seemed a little shaken up by the surprise as she froze up just a bit, before they both realized there was no threat. Jones let out a sigh, a quiet breath of relief, while her mother looked at her and chuckled. The young woman furrowed her brows with a slight pout, "You got scared too." She pointed out in assumption, but her mother only laughed more, "I-I'm really laughin' at the both of us." Jones rose a brow, and closed the door while her mother set the lantern on a dusty, dry-rotting cabinet top.
"What's funny about us?"
Farrah let her chuckles die with a cough and a grunt to clear her throat, "Well, we're in here gettin' all spooked over some lights coming on... Like we've never seen it before!" She laughed again, and covered her mouth to muffle the noise. Jones couldn't help but feel an awkward smile make its way onto her mouth as she watched her mother's mood switch so suddenly. It was nice, but unexpected. She looked around the room and her eyes fell on the bathroom door, which was wide open.
"Let's check this place out, mum," Jones instructed, but the woman questioned with a slowly dying laugh, "Why? I don't smell any rot, or see any hair. Wouldn't it be better to just sleep?"
"We can't overlook anything--" "I know, hun. I know, trust me, I made the rules..." Farrah reassured calmly, somehow maintaining her smile. Jones pursed her mouth in slight annoyance, "...You don't act like it..." she said, but Farrah caught the last bit of Jones's mumbling and gave a slight glare, "What did you say?"
Jones escaped toward the bathroom, "I said, let's check the rooms."
"Sure you did,"
"I did."
The young woman smiled before walking into the bathroom, instinctively glancing at the bath tub. There was nothing in there but dust, and the young woman was grateful for not having to experience something like the other room again. Really there was nothing of great importance in the bathroom, but just as Jones was going to turn and leave, she saw something move in the corner of her eye. She turned her head and to her surprise, she saw her reflection looking back at her. Her eyes widened and the young woman was entrapped by the sight, having her legs move on their own as she went closer to her reflection. Her hand was already moving out to touch the glass, to inspect it and feel the material under her fingertips.
She looked at the square shaped glass, studying herself closely in awe. It wasn't the first time she had seen herself, or even a mirror, but for her to have found one so big, and it wasn't cracked or shattered! She had never seen anything in such perfect and preserved condition. Jones made eye contact with her reflection, studying the features of her face intensly because she knew she would likely never see it so clearly again. Nothing much had changed since the last time she had checked, except she looked older...tired. There was smudges of dirt on her cheeks; probably from the explosions; and she swiped them off with a thumb. Then she spotted the soft skin of her busted lip trying to put itself together again, covering itself with a thin scab. She touched it gently.
"You find something in there, Jonell?" She could Farrah call from the other room. Jones let her eyes cut away from her face, looking at the bathroom door as she answered, "No, everything's fine in here."
"Same out here! Checked the bed for critters, and I think we're okay for tonight."
Jones gave a weak smile and glanced at her reflection one last time before exiting the bathroom. She found her mother flinging the bed sheets, letting them air out before resting them back on the mattress and making the bed again. Jones sat on the bed once the woman was finished, and her mother did the same, rocking the bed as she plopped down with excessive force. "It's nice to have a bed again, eh?" Farrah asked, though her back was facing her daughter. Jones fiddled with the sheets, "I don't remember," she mumbled and Farrah sighed, "Right..."
"Well, at least we have light...that's something," the woman tried lamely, and Jones nodded in agreement before laying on her back, comforted by the unusual feel of a pillow under her head. "Take your shoes off if you're going to sleep," her mother chided and Jones moaned something under her breath before sitting up. She unlaced her boots and slipped them off one by one, setting them side by side at the foot of the bed. She laid down again and closed her eyes. "Could you get the lights, mum?" She mumbled. The bed shifted, then eased, and the lights flickered off, leaving the two in complete darkness. Jones could feel Farrah return and lay down beside her. Their arms brushed due to how small the bed was for two grown women, but neither of them were bothered.
"What did you see in that room, Jonell?" Her mother asked suddenly, breaking the long minutes of silence. Jones wanted to pretend she was asleep, but her mother nudged her side with a mean force. "What you would expect..."
"What was it?"
The young woman shifted uncomfortably, trying to reposition her pillow and stall her answer for a bit. Farrah nudged her again, and it hurt this time. "I found a body...just like you knew," Jones groaned, and she licked her scabbing lip, "and...there was a dog with it." Her mother didn't say anything but Jones decided to continue, "The thing was scraggly, all bones and no meat. But it was in there with the body, still alive, and-- feeding on it..."
Jones opened her eyes, soaking in the blackness of the room while her mother laid still on her back. It was quiet.
"I wish you didn't have to see things like that..."
The young woman shut her eyes, deciding not to speak again and she turned on her left, pushing her face deep into the pillow-- ignoring its old, musty smell. It was a long time before she fell asleep, and even still, her rest was unpleasant and disturbed.
The next morning, Jones awoke with a start as she sat up in the bed and glanced around with tired eyes. Her mother had gone from the room, which was evident from the slightly opened door, and the fact that the woman was walking inside right now. They looked at each other before Farrah greeted, "Good morning." "Where did you go?" Jones demanded while hopping off the bed.
"Why don't you take a wild guess, Jones?"
The young woman made a face before shaking her head, slipping her boots on and tying the laces. "Why don't you go look for Lance? Haven't seen him in a while." Jones stood up, "Y'know, I'm sure he's busy," Farrah shrugged and swayed her hands like she were weighing something, "Maybe, maybe not. Go check on him." Jones tightened her jaw, "I just woke up. Why didn't you look for him while you were down there?" "Just do as I say, Jonell."
The young woman sighed and let her head sag in defeat for a quick second before turning to the door. She pushed the handle-less door open, but before she stepped outside, her mother stopped her. She looked at Farrah, unimpressed as the woman approached her holding something around her hand. "Last thing before you go," Farrah said before motioning for her daughter to turn around. Jones groaned in complaint, but did so anyways, facing her back to her mother. "I found this while I was out. It'll keep your hair in place." Her mother said as she put Jones's hair up with a hair tie. When she finished, she turned Jones around and looked at her daughter, "See? You look nice and neat now."
Jones pursed her lips, tempted to go back to the bathroom and look at herself, but quickly deciding against it.
"I can't see it so..." Jones trailed off and her mother laughed, "You know what I mean, get going now." Jones shook her head, but turned away and left down the stairs. When she got to the ground level, she remembered that Lance had called out to them last night to tell them where he would be. Jones let that be her lead as she walked to a smaller building adjacent to the motel, and opened the door.
She was greeted by the sight of Lance sleeping, and a dog of all things curled up right beside him. Jones eyed the dog, already feeling a strange anxiety build up as she wondered if the animal would too eat the dead. She ignored it and stepped inside, closing the door, and inspecting the details of the room before calling out to wake Lance up.
"Lance. Lance? Wake up..."
The TV was still on, playing the movie he had gotten to work the night before. As Jones called for Lance the dog perked its ears up and looked over the couch at her, he stared at her for a moment, seeming indifferent about her presence. However in some contrast ,when Lances name was called a gasp of air was heard escaping his lips and without much warning, he quickly rose from the couch, springing to his feet and swiftly turning to her with his fist raised over his face and his body hunched over in a boxers stance. He breathed a little heavy as his eyes pierced into Jones, his gaze obviously intense and filled with hints of paranoia.
Her tied hair made her look almost like a totally different person, and he almost did not realize it was her, until his brain woke up a little more, and studied her a little more. His eyes relaxed slowly and as did his body, as he let his shoulders and hands drop down. He gave a long sigh while he straightened himself back up, hoping he did not spook her any. The dog seemed a bit hyped from his sudden movement as it stood up on the couch, and bounced around a little, barking quietly at Lance.
"Calm down buddy..."Lance told the dog as he rustled the top of his head.
"Morning Jones...I hope you guys slept well..."He said while he ran his hand through his hair, making it settle back to its normal style after being messed up a little as he slept.
"I think you would be happy to know that last night I found a stock pile of food, the kind that never goes bad...so for a moment we should be okay on food...lets just make sure to keep it regulated, because as much food as I found, with three of us, it will go away quicker then you may think..."He said with a tired smile. He only had about 2 hours of rest, but he could manage with it for a bit.
He scratched his scruffy beard as he looked back at the TV seeing the movie still playing."I had a once in a life time experience last night...I found this thing called a movie and managed to get it to work...I was tempted to invite you two to watch it, but I didnt want to bother you...maybe if we can ever somehow find another working TV you can see it..."He said as he bent down to the VHS player, and fumbled around with the buttons for a moment trying to find out how to eject it, rewinding, turning the volume up and down, and pulling up the settings menu in the process.
"Well if you guys want to start getting your stuff ready we-"As he talked the dog he had spent the night with started growling at something for whatever reason. Lance looked over at the pup with a raised eyebrow."...What?"He asked it. A moment passed as Lance started hearing a loud roaring engine coming far from the road behind them.
Lances eyes widened and his face cracked from his happy attitude into a far more serious one. He looked at Jones with a raised finger as he tried to collect his thoughts, and snap the tired out of his body."Get your things and get in the car, keep your heads low. Dont waste any time!"He said a hurried voice to her
Lance grabbed his bag and tossed it over his shoulders and opened the door and looked off in the horizon. He could see a cloud of dust from one vehicle being kicked up far from them."I think you have about 3 minutes, GO."He told her urgently.
He was wishing that they could have gone this morning, and this day without any confrontation. Partly because he did not want anything to remind Jones of what made her angry at him.
The dog sprung from the couch and rushed to Lances side, looking out the door with him."What...you wanna join in?"He said to the dog. It may be strange the way he kept talking to the dog, as if it understood him, Lance himself did not even know why he did it, it just felt natural to empathize with the it.
"Well do what you want I wont stop you..."He told the dog before he quickly paced outside. His eyes looked all around the Motels exterior as if he was looking for something. He was working out in his mind, every possible way he could deal with this foe before they got to them. He quickly thought of some things to subtly prepare for in case he was about to be in a fight.
He saw a wire stringed down from a pylon near the outside of the building he was in, and he took out his knife and quickly spliced it open, his handle negated any electricity that may run from the blade to his hand. The exposed wire would make for a great way to send several hundred volts of electricity into the victims body if need be.
Next, he realized his bat and gun where in the car, and if he where to retrieve it he would risk exposing Jones and Farrah's hiding, so he needed a weapon quick, for he knew whoever was coming would more then likely be equipped with something. He quickly paced around the building, looking for anything he could use, the dog frantically pacing behind him trying to keep up with his erratic movements. A small moment passed before he found some galvanized steel pipes outside the wall that was once apart of the buildings plumbing, which where hardly rusted thanks to the engineering that went into making the steel as long lasting as possible. If there was some way to time travel, plumbing companies would be happy to know that their products can even survive nuclear wars. Lance rushed to the pipes and grabbed one of the more lose pipes, and with a couple good pulls he was able to yank it out of the wall.
Lance preferred the element of surprise, and not let people know how he was going to approach them, so he laid the pipe in a discreet location, to use later if need be. His knife would serve as a good protector until then.
Lance listened for the motor and heard it getting dangerously closer. He hoped Jones and her mother would be able to make it into the car, or at least some kind of hiding spot quickly, as they should not have to deal with any confrontation. While he could tell they where very capable of handling Themistocles, he gave his promise to protect them.
A promise he hopped he would not end up regretting.
Her tied hair made her look almost like a totally different person, and he almost did not realize it was her, until his brain woke up a little more, and studied her a little more. His eyes relaxed slowly and as did his body, as he let his shoulders and hands drop down. He gave a long sigh while he straightened himself back up, hoping he did not spook her any. The dog seemed a bit hyped from his sudden movement as it stood up on the couch, and bounced around a little, barking quietly at Lance.
"Calm down buddy..."Lance told the dog as he rustled the top of his head.
"Morning Jones...I hope you guys slept well..."He said while he ran his hand through his hair, making it settle back to its normal style after being messed up a little as he slept.
"I think you would be happy to know that last night I found a stock pile of food, the kind that never goes bad...so for a moment we should be okay on food...lets just make sure to keep it regulated, because as much food as I found, with three of us, it will go away quicker then you may think..."He said with a tired smile. He only had about 2 hours of rest, but he could manage with it for a bit.
He scratched his scruffy beard as he looked back at the TV seeing the movie still playing."I had a once in a life time experience last night...I found this thing called a movie and managed to get it to work...I was tempted to invite you two to watch it, but I didnt want to bother you...maybe if we can ever somehow find another working TV you can see it..."He said as he bent down to the VHS player, and fumbled around with the buttons for a moment trying to find out how to eject it, rewinding, turning the volume up and down, and pulling up the settings menu in the process.
"Well if you guys want to start getting your stuff ready we-"As he talked the dog he had spent the night with started growling at something for whatever reason. Lance looked over at the pup with a raised eyebrow."...What?"He asked it. A moment passed as Lance started hearing a loud roaring engine coming far from the road behind them.
Lances eyes widened and his face cracked from his happy attitude into a far more serious one. He looked at Jones with a raised finger as he tried to collect his thoughts, and snap the tired out of his body."Get your things and get in the car, keep your heads low. Dont waste any time!"He said a hurried voice to her
Lance grabbed his bag and tossed it over his shoulders and opened the door and looked off in the horizon. He could see a cloud of dust from one vehicle being kicked up far from them."I think you have about 3 minutes, GO."He told her urgently.
He was wishing that they could have gone this morning, and this day without any confrontation. Partly because he did not want anything to remind Jones of what made her angry at him.
The dog sprung from the couch and rushed to Lances side, looking out the door with him."What...you wanna join in?"He said to the dog. It may be strange the way he kept talking to the dog, as if it understood him, Lance himself did not even know why he did it, it just felt natural to empathize with the it.
"Well do what you want I wont stop you..."He told the dog before he quickly paced outside. His eyes looked all around the Motels exterior as if he was looking for something. He was working out in his mind, every possible way he could deal with this foe before they got to them. He quickly thought of some things to subtly prepare for in case he was about to be in a fight.
He saw a wire stringed down from a pylon near the outside of the building he was in, and he took out his knife and quickly spliced it open, his handle negated any electricity that may run from the blade to his hand. The exposed wire would make for a great way to send several hundred volts of electricity into the victims body if need be.
Next, he realized his bat and gun where in the car, and if he where to retrieve it he would risk exposing Jones and Farrah's hiding, so he needed a weapon quick, for he knew whoever was coming would more then likely be equipped with something. He quickly paced around the building, looking for anything he could use, the dog frantically pacing behind him trying to keep up with his erratic movements. A small moment passed before he found some galvanized steel pipes outside the wall that was once apart of the buildings plumbing, which where hardly rusted thanks to the engineering that went into making the steel as long lasting as possible. If there was some way to time travel, plumbing companies would be happy to know that their products can even survive nuclear wars. Lance rushed to the pipes and grabbed one of the more lose pipes, and with a couple good pulls he was able to yank it out of the wall.
Lance preferred the element of surprise, and not let people know how he was going to approach them, so he laid the pipe in a discreet location, to use later if need be. His knife would serve as a good protector until then.
Lance listened for the motor and heard it getting dangerously closer. He hoped Jones and her mother would be able to make it into the car, or at least some kind of hiding spot quickly, as they should not have to deal with any confrontation. While he could tell they where very capable of handling Themistocles, he gave his promise to protect them.
A promise he hopped he would not end up regretting.
Jones couldn't help but flinch when Lance sprung up-- his fists clenched and looking ready for a brawl. Her hand went to touch her shiv on instinct, but it wasn't there. She kissed her teeth and watched the man with caution. When their eyes met, Lance seemed to wake up a bit more, but Jones didn't relax until he did. The dog, who was once sleeping peacefully, now stood on the couch as it bounced and barked at the man, only quieting when Lance patted its head-- easing the tension. The young woman stared at the animal, curious yet cautious, and crossed her arms, "...Good morning..." She muttered in response to Lance. She let her eyes wander around the room, taking in the entirety of it and studying its layout while the man spoke of his findings.
Food and a movie? Jones turned to the man who was playing around with the VHS controls. "Sounds like you had a good time in here," she mumbled half-heartedly. She was beginning to poke around, curious to where the food was, when the dog began barking, and a sound once unknown to them became apparent. It was the growl of an engine.
Lance didn't even have to speak, and Jones already knew what to do. She did away with her curious prodding and thoughts of eating as they both raced to the door, peering out at the road behind them. If it wasn't dead obvious from the sound, the sight of dust flying from the road was enough to clear anyone's doubts. Someone was coming, and Jones had no desire to see who. The young woman clenched her jaw, feeling frustrated and antsy now. 3 minutes, Lance had said. Jones wasn't sure that was enough time, she still had to get Farrah.
She looked at the top unit and set her mind to grabbing her mother and getting to the car. Feelings, emotions, and hunger could wait until they were safe and out of this motel. While Lance and his new-found companion rushed off, Jones did the same. She bolted from the room, and sprinted across the lot until she reached the stairway. By then she was breathing hard, but she was far from tired as she raced up the stairs and opened the door to their room.
Farrah was kneeling on the carpet, shuffling through the drawers when Jones came in, huffing and puffing like a bull. The woman turned to her daughter, confusion on her face, yet it was accompanied by a smile. "Jonell, look at what I've found-" Jones sped over to her mother and took the older woman by the hand while unease ruffled her voice as she strained, "Someone's coming here."
"Wha-what?" Her mother garbled, "No, I-I thought we'd at least have another...day?"
Jones helped Farrah up with a shake of her head, "Yeah, I think we all did... but I'm sure they're coming for us so we have to go. Now." The young woman urged, getting her mother to pick up the pace.
They came out from the room, cautious and quick, like frightened animals. The howling engine grew louder and louder, until it sounded like the vehicle was right on top of them. Then Jones saw it. A rat black motorcycle grumbled up to the motel lot, just opposite of the car, but dangerously near to where the group was staying.
"Sh**, hide..." Jones urged, nudging Farrah from sight as they backpedaled into the first room they had opened. It was too late for them to go down the steps, not without the clear chance of being seen. Jones cursed as she hid behind the door, spying on the biker down below who seemed to be more than your average traveller, as they wandered around the motel lot with clear intention. Jones narrowed her eyes, angry at herself for forgetting her shiv, before standing up and searching around the room blindingly for any object she could use for defense.
Her mind didn't settle for a moment, and like old times, Jones felt as though it was only she and her mother. As it was now, there was no one but each other who could truly help; no one but them, who could truly make Jones feel safe.
Food and a movie? Jones turned to the man who was playing around with the VHS controls. "Sounds like you had a good time in here," she mumbled half-heartedly. She was beginning to poke around, curious to where the food was, when the dog began barking, and a sound once unknown to them became apparent. It was the growl of an engine.
Lance didn't even have to speak, and Jones already knew what to do. She did away with her curious prodding and thoughts of eating as they both raced to the door, peering out at the road behind them. If it wasn't dead obvious from the sound, the sight of dust flying from the road was enough to clear anyone's doubts. Someone was coming, and Jones had no desire to see who. The young woman clenched her jaw, feeling frustrated and antsy now. 3 minutes, Lance had said. Jones wasn't sure that was enough time, she still had to get Farrah.
She looked at the top unit and set her mind to grabbing her mother and getting to the car. Feelings, emotions, and hunger could wait until they were safe and out of this motel. While Lance and his new-found companion rushed off, Jones did the same. She bolted from the room, and sprinted across the lot until she reached the stairway. By then she was breathing hard, but she was far from tired as she raced up the stairs and opened the door to their room.
Farrah was kneeling on the carpet, shuffling through the drawers when Jones came in, huffing and puffing like a bull. The woman turned to her daughter, confusion on her face, yet it was accompanied by a smile. "Jonell, look at what I've found-" Jones sped over to her mother and took the older woman by the hand while unease ruffled her voice as she strained, "Someone's coming here."
"Wha-what?" Her mother garbled, "No, I-I thought we'd at least have another...day?"
Jones helped Farrah up with a shake of her head, "Yeah, I think we all did... but I'm sure they're coming for us so we have to go. Now." The young woman urged, getting her mother to pick up the pace.
They came out from the room, cautious and quick, like frightened animals. The howling engine grew louder and louder, until it sounded like the vehicle was right on top of them. Then Jones saw it. A rat black motorcycle grumbled up to the motel lot, just opposite of the car, but dangerously near to where the group was staying.
"Sh**, hide..." Jones urged, nudging Farrah from sight as they backpedaled into the first room they had opened. It was too late for them to go down the steps, not without the clear chance of being seen. Jones cursed as she hid behind the door, spying on the biker down below who seemed to be more than your average traveller, as they wandered around the motel lot with clear intention. Jones narrowed her eyes, angry at herself for forgetting her shiv, before standing up and searching around the room blindingly for any object she could use for defense.
Her mind didn't settle for a moment, and like old times, Jones felt as though it was only she and her mother. As it was now, there was no one but each other who could truly help; no one but them, who could truly make Jones feel safe.
The air grew stiff as the dirt kicked up from the bike fluttered in the wind, making the sun split through the clouds of dust in the air. The biker stopped his bike in the middle of the motel, the motor still growling before he shut it off. Everything was quite for a moment, as Lance stood about 6 yards from the biker.
He watched as the man, covered by his helmet, slowly lifted his leg over the bike, and planted his feet on the ground. He stepped a little closer to Lance, each footstep making a clinging sound of metal. The air was still once more, as the two stared at each other for a moment with no words. The biker was a tall stocky figure, while Lance was tall himself, Biker easily had at least 5 more inches on him.
"What do you want..."Lance asked
"Where are they."The biker asked, his voice dark and sounded like someone scrubbing a pan with a wire brush.
"They ran off without me. Do you really think they would bother to keep me company?"He responded to him.
"If you just hand them over, I will act like I never seen you Lance."Biker said to him as he positioned himself closer to Lance.
It was odd, how he called him out by name, and so casually, as if they where long time business partners trying to make a deal.
"Aint gonna happen...you might as well just turn around."Lance told him. His shoulders raised a little along with his fist balling up.
"Do you want what happened to Oscar to happen again? Dont play with fire again Lance."The Biker said in a almost mocking tone.
Lance jerked a little at the mention of Oscar. His fist balled and he brought a foot forward."I said TURN AROUND!"Lance shouted at the man with a lion like roar.
Biker started to slowly walk to Lance, taking a slight combat stance in his approach."Dont make me do this..."He said with a quite growl.
Before any more talking could be, the two titanic men jumped at each other, locking arms, sending them into a power struggle with each other, as the two tried to throw each other off balance. Slowly, Lance started to overcome him, both their bodies straining and shaking as the excreted all the strength they had. Biker slowly started to get pushed back, his body twisting slightly under Lances pressure, but he tightened his grip around Lances arm, digging into the wounds left by the explosion days ago. Lance gave a few conserved grunts of pain, and his eyes shifted to that of agony, as he slowly started to lose the power struggle, the pain from his wounds being gripped and twisted proving to be too much for him. Biker quickly overtook Lance, and powerfully slammed him into the ground, and pressed his weight down on top of him
Lance struggled to regain control of the situation, but he was fighting an uphill battle, as Biker toppled himself over Lance, his mass making it nearly impossible to move, or breath. He raised his fist in the air, a fist with a leather glove padded with metal knuckles, and railed it across Lance's face. A meaty crunch echoed over the motel, and Lance's head jerked to the side, with his eyes in a daze as his brain tried to recollect itself, before another fist knocked his head to the otherside, splattering blood from his mouth on the ground bellow.
Another blow felt like it would cave his skull in, and Biker intended to just that, until a loud bark was heard before the dog pounced on Biker, and started digging his vice grip like jaws into his arm. Biker shouted,"What the ****! Get off me you mutt!"
It took Lance a moment to regain his surroundings, and to notice that Biker had lost his momentum thanks to his companion. Lance took back control of his arms, and clenched his hands around Bikers neck, pressing his thumbs into his throat. Bikers shouts turned to gurgles, and desperate attempts to gasp for air. Lance worked his knee under Bikers stomach and with a harsh shove, tossed him over to the side.
The dog pounced on Biker again, keeping pressure on him as Lance quickly rose back to his feet, and ran to the pipe he had laid out earlier. Biker tossed and turned with the dog, and managed to throw him off, effectively slam him to the ground by him, the dog giving a painful whine as he did so.
Biker got himself back on his feet, and looked up to see Lance in the middle of swinging the pipe into his head. Biker had little time to react as the the pipe crashed against his helmet, sending a loud clash of metal ringing through everyone's ears. Of course due to his helmet he was protected a little from the blow, but it didnt stop his body from falling to the side from the impact.
Lance rested his hand over his head as he felt the dizziness from the impacts of his fist clouding his vision a little. Blood steadily ran down the side of his face. He shook his head a little, trying to get his focus straight for a moment.
His hands shuffled around for a second in his pocket and grabbed the keys to his car, and while Biker was looking to the ground, he tossed them over to the balcony for Jones and her mother to grab, and hopefully sneak off to the car. He wanted them to get it started it up so they could make a fast escape, and hell maybe even run the guy over if they could. And if they needed to, they could drive off without him. Though he hoped it would not come to that.
He looked back down to Biker who was regaining himself, and he raised the pipe up for another swing, and cruised it down to his head before feeling it stop abruptly. Biker was able to catch the blow before it hit him, stopping the pipe from colliding with him again. Even though you could not see bikers face, he had a feel like he knew the momentum was back on his side, as he slowly raised himself back up with his hand firm on the pipe.
Lance tried yanking the pipe back to him, and as did Biker, and the two started battling over the weapon, pushing each other back and forth using the pipe as leverage, both the titanic men struggling against each others strength, battling for dominance over the field.
After a few moments of intense struggle, Lance felt his grip loosen as the pipe was yanked from his hands, causing him to fall back from the shift in motion. His eyes where dazed and fixed on the sky for a moment as he looked back to Biker, just as he was crashing the pipe down to his skull.
Lances eyes widened, and he quickly rolled to the side as the pipe hit the dirt next to him. Biker grunted in frustration, and swung again at him. Lance quickly rolled again to the side, this time feeling the pipe barley brush against his ear.
"You son of a...Stay still!"Biker shouted at him as he clenched his meaty fingers around Lances throat. Biker raised the pipe in the air, ready to make his decisive blow, and after the pummeling he took earlier, he knew he would not be able to make another hit. Lances throat gasped for air as Bikers grip kept any hopes of oxygen getting into his body, and his eyes frantically shifted around looking for something to help, his dog was still recovering from earlier, Jones needed to get as far as way from him as possible, and the
wire he cut was laying within reaching distance from him. The wire! Lance was never more happy to of done impromptu electric work in his life, as he quickly snagged the wire, and shoved it into Bikers wrist.
Biker attempted to make a painful shout but his jaw was locked as the volts coursed through his veins, and unfortunately for Lance, as Biker had his grip around his neck, he felt the voltage go through him too. The two shook and jittered from the shock, before Biker fell over to the side of Lance silently. Lance gasped for air and stared at the sky a moment, as his body tried to bring itself back after being shocked, thankfully it doesn't seem like he got shocked as bad as Biker.
Lance slowly got up, blood running from his forehead, and a slight electrical burn mark around his neck. He rested a hand on Bikers neck, and felt a pulse. It would be ideal to kill him right now, but for whatever reason he didnt.
He slowly and weakly picked himself up. And looked to the car. He could not tell at the moment if they had made it to the car and started it, drove off, or where waiting to see how the fight went, or any other possibilities, but he still found himself walking to where he knew the car was.
"Come on...lets get out of he..."He said as he rested a hand on his head as his vision blurred a little, and he felt a sick feeling his stomach."Farrah I think...maybe you should dr...Oh my go..."He was saying before he crashed down to the ground bellow him, falling unconsciousness.
The dog had regained himself and paced over to Lance, curious and worried about what happened to him, and keeping a watchful eye over him, hoping help would come.
He watched as the man, covered by his helmet, slowly lifted his leg over the bike, and planted his feet on the ground. He stepped a little closer to Lance, each footstep making a clinging sound of metal. The air was still once more, as the two stared at each other for a moment with no words. The biker was a tall stocky figure, while Lance was tall himself, Biker easily had at least 5 more inches on him.
"What do you want..."Lance asked
"Where are they."The biker asked, his voice dark and sounded like someone scrubbing a pan with a wire brush.
"They ran off without me. Do you really think they would bother to keep me company?"He responded to him.
"If you just hand them over, I will act like I never seen you Lance."Biker said to him as he positioned himself closer to Lance.
It was odd, how he called him out by name, and so casually, as if they where long time business partners trying to make a deal.
"Aint gonna happen...you might as well just turn around."Lance told him. His shoulders raised a little along with his fist balling up.
"Do you want what happened to Oscar to happen again? Dont play with fire again Lance."The Biker said in a almost mocking tone.
Lance jerked a little at the mention of Oscar. His fist balled and he brought a foot forward."I said TURN AROUND!"Lance shouted at the man with a lion like roar.
Biker started to slowly walk to Lance, taking a slight combat stance in his approach."Dont make me do this..."He said with a quite growl.
Before any more talking could be, the two titanic men jumped at each other, locking arms, sending them into a power struggle with each other, as the two tried to throw each other off balance. Slowly, Lance started to overcome him, both their bodies straining and shaking as the excreted all the strength they had. Biker slowly started to get pushed back, his body twisting slightly under Lances pressure, but he tightened his grip around Lances arm, digging into the wounds left by the explosion days ago. Lance gave a few conserved grunts of pain, and his eyes shifted to that of agony, as he slowly started to lose the power struggle, the pain from his wounds being gripped and twisted proving to be too much for him. Biker quickly overtook Lance, and powerfully slammed him into the ground, and pressed his weight down on top of him
Lance struggled to regain control of the situation, but he was fighting an uphill battle, as Biker toppled himself over Lance, his mass making it nearly impossible to move, or breath. He raised his fist in the air, a fist with a leather glove padded with metal knuckles, and railed it across Lance's face. A meaty crunch echoed over the motel, and Lance's head jerked to the side, with his eyes in a daze as his brain tried to recollect itself, before another fist knocked his head to the otherside, splattering blood from his mouth on the ground bellow.
Another blow felt like it would cave his skull in, and Biker intended to just that, until a loud bark was heard before the dog pounced on Biker, and started digging his vice grip like jaws into his arm. Biker shouted,"What the ****! Get off me you mutt!"
It took Lance a moment to regain his surroundings, and to notice that Biker had lost his momentum thanks to his companion. Lance took back control of his arms, and clenched his hands around Bikers neck, pressing his thumbs into his throat. Bikers shouts turned to gurgles, and desperate attempts to gasp for air. Lance worked his knee under Bikers stomach and with a harsh shove, tossed him over to the side.
The dog pounced on Biker again, keeping pressure on him as Lance quickly rose back to his feet, and ran to the pipe he had laid out earlier. Biker tossed and turned with the dog, and managed to throw him off, effectively slam him to the ground by him, the dog giving a painful whine as he did so.
Biker got himself back on his feet, and looked up to see Lance in the middle of swinging the pipe into his head. Biker had little time to react as the the pipe crashed against his helmet, sending a loud clash of metal ringing through everyone's ears. Of course due to his helmet he was protected a little from the blow, but it didnt stop his body from falling to the side from the impact.
Lance rested his hand over his head as he felt the dizziness from the impacts of his fist clouding his vision a little. Blood steadily ran down the side of his face. He shook his head a little, trying to get his focus straight for a moment.
His hands shuffled around for a second in his pocket and grabbed the keys to his car, and while Biker was looking to the ground, he tossed them over to the balcony for Jones and her mother to grab, and hopefully sneak off to the car. He wanted them to get it started it up so they could make a fast escape, and hell maybe even run the guy over if they could. And if they needed to, they could drive off without him. Though he hoped it would not come to that.
He looked back down to Biker who was regaining himself, and he raised the pipe up for another swing, and cruised it down to his head before feeling it stop abruptly. Biker was able to catch the blow before it hit him, stopping the pipe from colliding with him again. Even though you could not see bikers face, he had a feel like he knew the momentum was back on his side, as he slowly raised himself back up with his hand firm on the pipe.
Lance tried yanking the pipe back to him, and as did Biker, and the two started battling over the weapon, pushing each other back and forth using the pipe as leverage, both the titanic men struggling against each others strength, battling for dominance over the field.
After a few moments of intense struggle, Lance felt his grip loosen as the pipe was yanked from his hands, causing him to fall back from the shift in motion. His eyes where dazed and fixed on the sky for a moment as he looked back to Biker, just as he was crashing the pipe down to his skull.
Lances eyes widened, and he quickly rolled to the side as the pipe hit the dirt next to him. Biker grunted in frustration, and swung again at him. Lance quickly rolled again to the side, this time feeling the pipe barley brush against his ear.
"You son of a...Stay still!"Biker shouted at him as he clenched his meaty fingers around Lances throat. Biker raised the pipe in the air, ready to make his decisive blow, and after the pummeling he took earlier, he knew he would not be able to make another hit. Lances throat gasped for air as Bikers grip kept any hopes of oxygen getting into his body, and his eyes frantically shifted around looking for something to help, his dog was still recovering from earlier, Jones needed to get as far as way from him as possible, and the
wire he cut was laying within reaching distance from him. The wire! Lance was never more happy to of done impromptu electric work in his life, as he quickly snagged the wire, and shoved it into Bikers wrist.
Biker attempted to make a painful shout but his jaw was locked as the volts coursed through his veins, and unfortunately for Lance, as Biker had his grip around his neck, he felt the voltage go through him too. The two shook and jittered from the shock, before Biker fell over to the side of Lance silently. Lance gasped for air and stared at the sky a moment, as his body tried to bring itself back after being shocked, thankfully it doesn't seem like he got shocked as bad as Biker.
Lance slowly got up, blood running from his forehead, and a slight electrical burn mark around his neck. He rested a hand on Bikers neck, and felt a pulse. It would be ideal to kill him right now, but for whatever reason he didnt.
He slowly and weakly picked himself up. And looked to the car. He could not tell at the moment if they had made it to the car and started it, drove off, or where waiting to see how the fight went, or any other possibilities, but he still found himself walking to where he knew the car was.
"Come on...lets get out of he..."He said as he rested a hand on his head as his vision blurred a little, and he felt a sick feeling his stomach."Farrah I think...maybe you should dr...Oh my go..."He was saying before he crashed down to the ground bellow him, falling unconsciousness.
The dog had regained himself and paced over to Lance, curious and worried about what happened to him, and keeping a watchful eye over him, hoping help would come.
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