Disclaimer: All characters are the property of the awesome Rob Thurman - Just damaging slightly for entertainment, then will return all fixed up (mainly) after some Angst/HC.
Warnings: Just for some language from our eloquent Caliban.
Timeline: Post-Roadkill.
A/N - I'm actually in the middle of Masters exams/revision at the moment (so totally logical time to write a little more fan-fic) but hey, I couldn't resist! I haven't yet read all the books, I'm saving 'Blackout' for post-exams! Also not from the US so please forgive issues with that, I try to write like I am anyway! Thanks to all who sent me such nice positive reviews from my first story, Obi the Kid especially :) I hope everyone likes this one as much, or more! I'm a big fan of action along with angst/hc so this is kind of an attempt at a bit of both.
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"Cal!"
My Desert Eagle was shoved into my waiting hand as I reached back into the car window. It was quite a feat for the Puck who was simultaneously holding down my lower legs so I didn't take a swan dive from the speeding vehicle.
"Thanks!" I shouted back at him, my voice lost in the wind as we pushed 180 down the increasingly dark, deserted highway.
We were in the plains of Texas, in a brand new Ferrari no less, Goodfellows latest proud acquisition - don't ask. A band of Frains were chasing us. God-awful creatures who unfortunately also seemed to have a penchant for speed right now - and were chasing us down route 45. Fucking chasing us! This was not the way it was supposed to work. How had we got here? Good friggin' question. I'd been asking myself that all day. It was a long story.
"Cal!"
This time it was Niko, who was driving, and this time, as always, it was loaded with much more than my name.
To Robin it was probably just a "get-your-ass-back-in-the-goddamn-car" but to me it was "please be careful, I can't help you while I'm driving 180 and you're hanging out the goddamn window". What else was I going to do? It was our best defense right now. Not that running in the opposite direction as fast as your Ferrari could carry you was any kind of defense.
Everything had gone horribly wrong. We had been royally screwed by our latest client. So much for me convincing Niko that we should take work that; 1) Took us well away from New York. Robin was pro-the-road trip at the time, might have had something to do with a new Ferrari though. 2) Was not directly referred through Robin or Promise and 3) Paid enough to set us up for a long, long time, I thought grimly. Chalk another one up to the "Cal fucked-up" list.
"Shit" the SIG in my left hand jammed. Damn it, I knew I'd had a few rounds left too. I discarded it in favor of the only weapon remaining, the Eagle Robin had just handed me. It suddenly felt wrong having only one gun in my hands. I'm sure that was supposed to say something about my personality or some shit like that, but hey, 'probably right if it did.
How the hell did we get here? I thought again, firing. I felt Robin grasp more of my leg as the recoil coupled with the blasting air threatened to send me flying again. I could barely see in the fading light, my eyes stinging with the dust kicked up off the road and our occasional trips off of it.
"Cal, hold on!"
Nik again, quieter, though I could tell he was shouting, his voice just lost in the wind.
I felt the weight of the car shift beneath me as we turned into a long sideways slide. I took the opportunity and fired from the new angle, finally taking out one of the tires of our pursuers.
"Robin I need more ammo!" I called as the car straightened out onto a side road.
"that's the last of it Cal, we're out!" he replied, muffled. I could tell he was doing one last visual sweep of the car anyway.
Fuck. This was turning out to be one hell of a bad day at work. The job had gone wrong from the start. The look on the Pucks face was one I had never seen before and didn't hope to again. I think Niko saw it too. It spoke of an imminent battle we were ill prepared for and could not win. Goodfellow had seen his fair share over battles over his many years. He should know.
So we ran. Strategic retreat. Lived to fight another day and all that crap. It hadn't quite been that simple though, was it ever? And the day wasn't done with us yet.
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