*sighs* I'm stuck in a John Leguizamo mood. I could blame "Moulin Rouge", because that totally started this mess, but I didn't have to pop "Land of the Dead" into the DVD player, now did I? Now I've got the image of Cholo doing shirtless chin-ups in Dead Reckoning burned into my skull, and the only logical way to vent this fangirl obsession is to spend a few days typing away like a gal possessed at my laptop, neglecting sleep and the persistent stares of my cat, who has rediscovered the joys of playing with ribbon and has spent the last several days sitting at my feet, meowing at me pitifully until I inevitably crack and spend all of my time playing with him. (Sooo... tired... of playing... ribbon... *dies at four in the morning with the cat sitting on her, pawing at her face, ribbon clutched in his teeth*)
Sooo... yeah. This is my first foray into "Land of the Dead" fanfiction. I tried to keep everyone in character, but I don't really know if I was successful or not. *self-conscious author blushes and hides under a rock* FYI, this takes place mostly before the events of the movie, with the very last part (which I debated with myself about including, but decided to leave it in on principle) placed somewhere around the end of the film, after the fight with Kaufman in the garage.
WARNINGS (seriously): Too many cuss words, a little violence, sexy-time in later chapters.
Blah blah, I don't own "Land of the Dead", George A. Romero does, and he's awesome. I can only hope that he doesn't send legions of zombies after me for screwing around with his characters. XD I only own Ophelia "Spider-Baby" Murphy, and the troubles of her past (though not her nickname). So there.
CUE RANDOM ZOMBIE FOOTAGE AND FADE-IN EFFECT!
X-o-X
She wasn't "cute", though people sometimes called her that at first glance. She favored leather, straps and buckles, materials thick enough to keep out the chill and offer protection when things got serious. Better safe than sorry, in her opinion. Showing skin was only useful when you wanted to fuck. Today, sex was the last thing on her mind.
Her face was pretty enough, or so they told her, youthful. She didn't look her age unless you got up close to study her features. So far, very few of those who had tried to get that close had come away from the encounter without receiving, at the least, a black eye. She was twenty-three or twenty-four; she'd lost track of the passage of time a while ago, though she still tried to recall the exact date once in a blue moon. Usually when she was drunk and feeling surly. She had decent curves, though she was relatively slim. Average height. Nothing remarkable.
Except for her eyes. Most people assumed they were blue at a distance, but they were actually a piercing, misty shade of grayish green. The intensity of her stare made it difficult for anyone to maintain eye contact with her for very long.
Nobody ever expected her to be able to hold her own in a fight. She liked it that way. It meant that the occasional thugs who would try something with her never saw the blow coming until the blow had connected with their temple and they lay sprawled out on the ground, dazed and bloodied. The same went for the pimps who tried to "recruit" her. Sometimes they would be too stubborn to learn from a beating. Then the only thing for it was to feed them a bullet.
She had fought tooth and nail for a place on one of the scavenger teams. Anything to get away from the city for a few hours. She couldn't stand the hypocrisy of that place anymore. It was supposed to be a haven, not a trash can for the bourgeois assholes living up in their ivory tower.
She liked Riley. He didn't lie. He wasn't a bastard. And above all else, he actually managed to act like a decent human being.
She liked Charlie, too. The guy was a sweetheart and a damn good shot with a rifle.
The rest of the crew, though? She could take 'em or leave 'em. Some were nice enough, but others were just out for blood. It was one thing to take satisfaction from your job putting down a few zombies in the line of duty, but to go out of your way to waste ammunition on the ones that weren't even paying attention to you was just plain mean.
Then there were the guys who were running errands for Kaufman... She hated people who allowed themselves to be used like that.
X-o-X
It was the first time they were forced to interact with one another. As soon as DeMora laid eyes on the kid, he knew he didn't like her. He'd heard a few stories before she managed to land a spot on the team. The colorful nicknames she had accumulated over the past year weren't flattering. Ice-Queen. Girl Scout. Hard-Ass. Psycho-Bitch... Oh yeah, she was a natural at making friends. She even had fans on the Green. Last time anyone had checked, the guards up there had a betting pool going as to how long it would be before someone slit her throat and dumped her over the fence.
The name she'd taken for herself after the world "ended" was "Spider-Baby". Nobody knew why. Maybe she just liked the sound of it.
"I'm not a babysitter, Riley."
Denbo had just given him that exasperated-yet-annoyingly-patient stare of his. "She's going with you. End of story."
During this conversation, the girl had stood leaning against Dead Reckoning, screwing around with an old MP3 player she'd salvaged from the back pocket of some poor dead bastard at the start of the night. She looked like a teenager in the too-big leather jacket, zipped tightly shut up to her collarbone, and her ripped jeans. Her hair was relatively short and pulled back with several tiny, plastic hair bands so that it stuck out at odd angles. And it was dyed an obnoxious shade of turquoise. Where the hell had she managed to find that color?
Her Army surplus boots came stomping across the pavement at a gesture from Riley. She chucked her broken toy over her shoulder and looked expectantly at him.
"Murphy, you'll be riding with Cholo tonight, got it?"
She looked DeMora over, head to foot. Her blank expression held a singular note of contempt. "Great. I'll try to contain my boundless joy." Seemed she wasn't thrilled with the idea either. Unlike Cholo, however, she didn't question simple orders. She looked him dead in the eyes. "You touch me and it's not a life-threatening situation, I'll punch you in the dick."
"Yeah, yeah, don't flatter yourself. If we were the last two people living on Earth, I'd probably take one of the stenches over you." Cholo climbed onto his motorcycle and revved the engine. "You coming?"
X-o-X
They tore through the stores in record time. The last of the essentials was packed onto the truck and ready to roll. The only thing left was to make a quick stop at a tobacco shop they'd passed on their way into the shopping center. If he could just get the girl scout to ride back with the truck...
She gave him a stony glare when he asked her to get off the bike. "Riley said I'm with you." She said it flatly, leaving no room for discussion. He started to understand why people didn't like her.
"Look, I've got a few errands of my own that don't involve you or Riley, so I'd appreciate it if you'd fuck off," he kept his tone civil, even though it was clear his sentiments were anything but.
"Fuck you," Spider-Baby said coolly, tightening her grip around his waist. "If you're worried about me chewing your ass out over smokes, don't." What, was she psychic, too? "If it helps, I've been dying to get my hands on a pack of cigarettes that hasn't changed hands thirty-eight fucking times before it reaches me. Those cutthroats back home charge way too much for them anyway."
Cholo narrowed his eyes at her, unsure what to make of this development. Then he sighed and shook his head, casting one more glance at her before they sped off towards the shop. "Have it your way..."
X-o-X
Spider-Baby pretty much ignored DeMora and his cohorts after they had cleared the place of walkers and set about clearing the shelves. She focused on keeping her eyes and ears open and shoving as much loot into her already-heavy backpack as she could (she'd filched a few Coca-Colas and some chocolate bars from one of the convenience stores earlier, being nearly as hard-up for those as she was for nicotene). Once she was certain she had enough to keep her supplied for at least a couple of weeks, she turned and went to the counter, hoisting herself up onto it while she waited for the others to finish.
As much as she loved being out of the city, she hated being in unfamiliar territory. Too much could go wrong in places like this. There were too many variables to consider, people to watch, dangers to listen for...
She glanced back and spotted an unopened bottle of brandy half-hidden on a shelf below the register. Sweet. She stuffed it into her backpack before any of the guys could spot it. Then she took the .44 Magnum she found just above the liquor's former hiding place.
X-o-X
The girl was on high-alert as they exited the shop. She thought she heard something rustling about in the patch of bushes behind the building, but she couldn't be sure.
Then one of the dumbasses decided he had to take a leak right then, and in true dumbass fashion, he ambled over to that exact spot to do it. Fucking moron.
... There... Now she was certain she'd heard it. Without making a sound, she drew the Magnum and double checked to make sure it was fully loaded.
The zombie that came groaning out from the bushes to make a grab for the pissing dumbass, she nailed with a single shot between it's eyes. The two that had popped up from around the other side of the building and made for Foxy, none of them had noticed until they were right on top of them.
One of them managed to stagger forward and knock Fox to the ground, pinning him. The other didn't make it close enough, caught with one of DeMora's bolts. But by the time they got its friend off of Foxy, another two had appeared. The guy over by the bushes was caught from behind and dragged back into the foliage. His screams didn't last long, and they were followed by a horrific gurgling.
Foxy was on his bike and roaring out of there in a flash. "Cholo, man, come on!"
There was a shuffling behind DeMora. He didn't swing around in time to stop the monster from attacking.
Spider-Baby did.
The whole thing took less than a second to play out. She'd heard the footsteps and caught the look of horror on Fox's face just as she'd been turning for the bike. She whirled around, fast as lightning. The next thing Cholo saw was her arm lifted over his half-turned shoulder, the pistol smoking in her grip. The shot was still echoing in his ears when she grabbed his sleeve and shoved him towards the motorcycle.
X-o-X