Land of the Dead
Rated M
Disclaimer: I don't own anything it all belong to Marvel and George A. Romero, I aint making any money from it im poor.
Thanks again for reviewing , enjoy!
Warning this one is even gorier than the last BWHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
CHAPTER 4
BOARD ROOM - FIDDLER'S GREEN
A uniformed guard leaves Lance in a pristine white conference room with glass walls overlooking the rotting city far below.
Lance sets the case of champagne and the box of Cohibas on a conference table.
A man stands silhouetted at the window "How is the town?"
Lance replies "Dead".
The man continues "Death intrudes on us even in the Green, I'm afraid. I heard about what happened with my neighbours. I'm grateful for your help".
Lance opens the case of champagne. "Brought you back some presents".
He pulls a bottle out, untwists the wire, and uses his strong thumbs to pop the cork. Foam runs. "You probably want a glass, don't you? Sure, a high-toned man like to drink out of a glass".
Lance grabs a highball glass from a cupboard, pours champagne
into it, and brings it, overflowing, to the Silhouetted Man.
He continues "I got something else, too".
Lance tears open the box of Cohibas. He picks up two cigars, bites off the tips, puts one in his mouth, then, walking back to the Silhouetted Man, puts the other in his mouth, lighting them both with a wooden match that he strikes on his jeans.
The Silhouetted Man speaks "Thank you"
Lance enthusiastically replies "No, thank you! Twenty grand. That's what I got comin' for last night. I never bothered to pick it up".
The man breathes "You didn't?"
Lance laughs "Nope. I left it in the bank. Your bank. With all my other dough. From all those other nights. I got enough now to buy me a place".
"You mean here? In the Green?"
The Silhouetted Man steps away from the window. Expensively dressed, in his early 60s, he is Erik Lensher. He sets down the highball glass Lance gave him, gets out a proper champagne flute, and fills it from the bottle, smiling politely at Lance.
In an apologetic tone he begins "I'm sorry, Mister Alvers, but there's a very long waiting list".
The smile that has been ever present since Mr. Lensher walked in starts to drop "How long?"
Lensher looks at the man in front of him "This is an extremely desirable location. Space is limited".
Lance's face has no trace of emotion "You mean restricted".
Lensher continues "Well, I do have a board of directors, a membership committee that has to approve...
A wave of incomparable sadness sweeps over Lance's face. "I guess it takes more than money to become a "member"".
He looks at the man and speaks softly "Take my advice. Withdraw your funds from the bank and spend them somewhere else".
Lance speaks quietly "Don't do this to me. Don't do this to me".
Lensher starts to apologize "I'm sorry, but..."
At this Lance explodes "No, no, no. Three years! Three years I been cleaning up after you, taking out your garbage, and you tell me I'm not good enough? You're the one who's no good. You are no fucking good. And you are gonna let me in. You know why? Because I know what goes on around here. How many of your fucking "members" know what's in that garbage I take out for you?"
Lance lunges at Lensher, grabs him by the collar. "YOU'LL LET ME IN OR I'LL..."
Lance feels the barrel of a .45 against his waist. Lensher, who has drawn the pistol from his jacket, is still smiling."Maybe we should talk about this when you're less excited".
Lensher presses a button under the table. Three security guards rush in, grab Lance, and drag him away. Lensher stops one of the guards at the door "I won't be needing this man any more".
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STAIRWELL - FIDDLER'S GREEN
The security guards lead Lance down the stairs. Lance whirls like a Ninja. He slugs one guard, kicks another in the groin, the third in the face, and escapes through a fire door.
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JAIL
Gambit rips off part of his shirt-sleeve and starts to bandage the wound on Rogue's arm.
They are in a jail cell that has brick walls and a small barred window facing a dark alley. Pyro, stripped of all his guns, stares outside longingly.
Gambit speaks "Why you? In that arena. Why did the little fat man throw you in with those things?"
Rogue laughs harshly "It wasn't the little man. It was the big man. The man upstairs. He's got his fingers in everything down here. If you can drink it, shoot it up, fuck it, or gamble on it, it belongs to him. He's just seein' that we get a few cheap kicks so we don't go thinkin' too hard about why he's eating steak and the rest of us are lucky to get the bones".
Gambit doesn't look convinced "Same question. Why you?"
Rogue sighs "They found out I was working with Logan and his people. Tired of eatin' off bones".
Pyro looks over "What can you do? Every place is the same".
Gambit also sighs and leans back against the wall "Ah mon ami' thats were you are wrong. Places with people. I'm gonna find me a place where there ain't no people. North. Canada".
Rogue looks at the man sitting beside her "Wherever you're going, take me with you".
Pyro snorts "He won't. Remy likes to be alone. He might take me. Cuzz havin' me around is pretty much the same as bein' alone. (Glancing at Remy)can make myself useful. And I can shoot".
Rougue's temper flares up a bit "I can shoot. And I can be pretty fucking useful. I had training. I was gonna join the Army. Up the Green. Till somebody figured I'd be a better hooker than a soldier".
Gambit speaks, eyes flashing "Listen cherie! I don't need to hear your story. Everybody's got a story, and I'm tired of hearin' them all!"
She replies "What's your story, Remy?"
They look at each other, clearly attracted.
Gambit is the first to break the gaze "I said everybody has a story. That was wrong. I don't have one. No family, sum guy picked me up on the streets of New Orleans and gave me a place to stay. School. Thieving. Nothing bad ever happened to me..." He turns away "...till everything changed".
Rogue sighs "Everything changed for all of us, sugah. Whether we had a story or not".
A sound outside the window. Pyro glances through the bars "Hey...".
Gambit and Rogue look out the window. Four security men are
chasing Logan into the alley outside. They drive him like an animal against a wall, club him, and drag him away.
"Logan".
Remy instinctively reaches through the window's bars, but there's nothing he can do. It's a helpless feeling.
Pyro looks at the scene infront of him "What are they gonna do? Kill him?"
Rogue shakes her head "Not right away. First, they'll try to get what they can out of him. About people like me".
Remy puts his hand on her back.
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In a ratty bedroom, Foxy is wakened out of a snore by Lance."We're taking the truck out. Get the guys".
Foxy groans "Gambit?"
Lance pats him, patronisingly, on the head "No, not him. Just the regular guys. Know what I mean?"
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DEPOT - Night
High above what was once a car dealership, but is now a fenced-in depot full of vehicles. A huge white face with black cartoon eyes pops into view, attached to a ten foot tall body emblazoned
'TONY BALONEY'. It's one of those vinyl advertising dummies that do the hula as air pumps through it. Tony's arms wave wildly, like a giant zombie, comic yet oddly unnerving as...
BLAM! BLAM!
Bullets hit it in the face and neck. Gus, a young soldier, and his partner Barrett, are shooting outside the sales office of the car-lot-turned-depot. A sign is printed on the window. "BEST DEALS IN TOWN AND THAT'S NO BALONEY!"
Handing Gus a five dollar bill Barrett laughs "You win. You got him in the brain".
SUBWAY TUNNEL - NIGHT
Lance pulls a cargo carrier to a stop along the platform of the tunnel. Foxy, Pretty Boy, Mouse, Anchor, and Scar, the youngest of the team, leap off the flatbed.
DEPOT - NIGHT
The steel doors under the "SUBWAY" sign open and Lance strides out with his team. A depot guard steps forward as the doors close and lock automatically behind them.
He waves "What's up, Lance?"
Lance flashes an official looking piece of paper "Takin' the truck out".
The guard looks confused "You just got back in this morning".
Lance huffs "Nobody gets a day off these days".
The guard takes Lance's paper "Hey, wait a minute this is from yesterday".
Keeping his cool, Lance reaches down "Oh, I must have given you the wrong one. Here..." but not into his pocket. For his gun.
Just before he draws it...shots ring out.
Lance looks around "What's that?"
The guard waves dismissively "Relax. Just target practice".
DEPOT -SALES OFFICE - NIGHT
Gus looks to Barrrett "Double or nothing?"
Barrett nods "Sure".
Gus aims his rifle at the jerking head of 'TONY BALONEY'. As he
is about to fire, there's a sound at his back.
He huffs "Quit scratching around back there. You're tryin' ta fuck up my aim".
Barrett replies "I'm just standin' here. I'm not doin' nothing".
The sound comes again. From the woods that adjoin the lot. Barrett grabs the handles of a klieg light mounted on a pivot and swings it so that it illuminates the tree-line.
There's nothing there. Nothing but branches being slapped by erratic gusts of wind.
Barrett pivots the Klieg light back to its original position, jumping out of his skin when the bright white beam reveals a zombie within arm's length.
Barrett fires! The dead thing drops, only to be replaced by another.
BLAM!
Barrett shoots again. This creature collapses. It is also replaced by another, which is also shot, as...
BLAM!
The top of Barrett's head is taken off by a rifle shot. The rifle was fired by Big Daddy. The barrel is still smoking. In the darkness behind him stands another zombie. Behind him are the shuffling shadows of many more dead things.
Gus screams.
DEPOT - NIGHT
Lance hears the scream "What's that? Screaming practice?"
Suddenly over the radio "Stenches! Jesus! They're all over the place!"
The depot guard turns and runs toward his men. Lance's team
unstrap weapons and get ready for battle.
Lance stops them "Ain't our fight. Stenches are making it easy for us. Let's grab the truck".
Lance and his team sprint across the lot to DEAD RECKONING.
A gunner at a machine-gun battery opens fire on the walkers.
Many of the rounds spark off the wire fencing.
Lance and his team scramble into the vehicle.
Foxy speaks "Should we send up some `sky flowers'?"
Lance shakes his head "No. Those things want to get in here...let `em in".
The walking dead march through machine gun fire behind their "leader". Big Daddy. He is the first to reach the fence surrounding the lot. Pushing against the wire, he is soon joined by a zombie with a baseball bat in his hand. Then others. The fence collapses. The Dead Things swarm into the depot.
DEAD RECKONING pulls out. Rumbling over the section
of fencing the zombies pushed down, it drives into the night.
Soldiers abandon their stations and scatter, shooting wildly.
The one with them knocks one of them cold with its baseball bat.
The soldier falls, losing his M-16. Big Daddy grabs the bat and throws it aside. Picking up the soldier's M-16, he presses the weapon into Number Nine's hands, even arranging Number Nine's fingers on the trigger.
RATATATAT.
With the gun aimed at the ground, Baseball zombie
fires a burst that sends her into a spastic dance. The soldier sits back up. Draws a pistol. Big Daddy grabs the barrel of the still-firing M-16 and guides it along the pavement to the soldier's legs. Bullets march up his groin, belly, chest, and, finally, head. He drops. Another soldier attacks. This time, Baseball zombie aims her weapon purposefully and scores a direct hit.
Other zombies rush at the steel doors that lead down to the subway. They can't get through. Losing interest, they drift slowly away, until their attention is refocused by a grunt from Big Daddy, who is gazing toward the glow of the Fiddler's Green high-rise across the river, closer now than before. The city. That's where he wants to be. That's where he's determined to go.
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Back inside Lensher's penthouse.
Erik rips a turkey leg off a cooked bird on a platter in front of him and eats. Across the table sits one of his board members, Charles Xavier. Tolansky enters. "Phone call, sir".
"Thank you, Tolansky. I'll take it".
Tolansky brings a radio-phone to the table. Lensher picks up the
receiver and lifts it to his ear "Yes?"
Lances voice comes through "Lensher?"
Erik tenses, just enough for Xavier to notice.
"Ah. The one that got away" .
Lance continues "You said we should talk when I was less excited. I'm a lot less excited now".
Being a man of business Lensher understands "What do you want, Mister Alvers?"
Inside DEAD RECKONING
Lance speaks into a radio "I can't have a place in the Green, fine. I'll go find another place. But you know what I'm gonna need? Money. I want my money out of your bank. And I want the rest of the money out of your bank. And if you don't give it to me, I'm gonna blow you out of your fuckin' ivory tower. I've got Dead Reckoning".
Back inside the penthouse.
Lensher closes his eyes "That's unfortunate".
"Put the money on a boat and send it across the river to the South Side. Tenth Street Pier. One man to drive the boat, no more. You've got till midnight. Four hours. I won't be there. Dead Reckoning won't be there. But I'll know if it happens. I'll know if it doesn't happen".
CLICK!
Lance hangs up.
Xavier speaks "Trouble?"
Erik laughs "In a world where the dead are returning to life, the word `trouble' loses much of its meaning. He wants money".
"Pay him".
"We don't negotiate with terrorists. There are other options".
Staring out the window onto the dead city Erik Lensher contemplates.
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JAIL - NIGHT
CLANG!
A security guard opens a cell door. "Which one of you is LeBeau?"
Remy, Pyro, and Rogue exchange glances. "What now?"
In a boardroom.
Lensher sips a Scotch. xavier is present, with a middle aged board member named Nick Frost and Scott Summers, who
is young and ambitious. All of them are nervous, pacing. A door opens and Remy is ushered into the room.
Lensher welcomes him "Mister Denbo. Come in. Can I offer you a drink?
"I don't drink".
"Well, then...please sit down".
Gambit looks around "Nobody else is sitting. I think I'll just stand here, like the rest of you. While you tell me why I'm standing here".
Lensher smiles "We need you to repossess a vehicle that belongs to us. The vehicle you designed, Mister Lebeau. Dead Reckoning has been stolen. By your second in command. I want him captured. Or killed. And I want my two-million-dollar piece of equipment returned".
Gambit looks surprised "The truck".
Lensher nods "Which has guns. Big guns. That could do a great deal of damage if he were to aim them at this city"
The young man shrugs "Why don't you just send out your troops?"
Erik is getting impatient "I don't want to lose them. I could send five hundred men against that thing and they'd all come back in body bags. It's your vehicle. Alvers was your man. You might be able to get close enough to...do what has to be done". He pauses to refill his glass "Do this for me and I'll grant you something in return. Residence in the Green".
Remy shakes his head "Not me. That's what Lance wanted, and you didn't give it to him, did you? That's why he's out there waving a cannon at your ass".
Lensher won't admit that Gambit's right, but he looks at him
with a glimmer of respect.
Remy continues "Give me one of those vehicles, over in the depot, weapons, and enough ammunition to go north".
It's Lensher's turn to look surprised "But...there's nothing up north".
Gambit smirks "That's the idea".
Lensher waves his hand dismissively " Alright. You've named your price. An easy one to pay".
Remy puts his hand up "One more thing. My friends. Both of them. They go with me".
"Take them".
He looks at Gambit, a hint of desperation behind his eyes. "Can you find Dead Reckoning? Quickly?"
The younger man cocks his head to one side "How quickly?"
"By midnight".
Gambits eyes flash and he smirks "I have a way".
INDUSTRIAL STREET - NIGHT
DEAD RECKONING rumbles along a dark street, plowing into a derelict car, knocking it aside and rolling it down a small embankment, pinning three dead things beneath.
Lance's team laughs raucously at the fate of the zombies.
Lance looking tense shouts "Knock it off!"
Big Daddy steps out of the darkness, watching the lights of DEAD RECKONING recede. He hears desperate squealing coming from under the toppled car.
He lumbers down the embankment. Pushes on one of the upturned tires. He can't turn the car by himself. He looks back to the road. Grunts.
Zombie baseball girl and others of Big Daddy's gathering force hurry to the car. They push. The car rolls over, freeing the three zombies. One of them used to be a Butcher. Still wearing a blood-stained apron, carrying a meat cleaver, he looks at Big Daddy with something resembling gratitude.
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FIDDLER'S GREEN WEAPONS STORAGE - NIGHT
Soldiers pass out monster weapons to Remy, Pyro, and Rogue. Riley straps on a K-90. Pyro turns one down "I like the iron I already got".
The soldier insist "This piece fires fourteen rounds a second".
Pyro unstraps his own Remington. A la Sergeant York, he licks his thumb. Wets the sight. And blasts a cockroach climbing on a wall twenty feet away.
"I don't norm'ly need fourteen rounds".
Rogue motions the guard to hand the weapon over "I'll take that gun".
The soldier gives her a sleazy look "Can you handle it?"
Rolling her eyes "Better'n you. The safety's off".
The soldier checks the gun. The safety is off. He clicks it on and embarrassedly hands the weapon to Rogue.
Gambit speaks to his friends "You guys don't have to come out with me if you don't want to".
Rogue ties her hair into a messy ponytail, white strands framing her face she checks her gun clip "I'd feel like a dick if I didn't".
Pyro nods enthusiastically "Me too. Just look at me you can tell I'd feel like a dick".
The young girl sighs "Some shit, ain't it? Goin' out to save a place we don't give a fuck about"
Gambit looks at her "It's not the place. It's the people in it"
"Mister Lebeau".
Tearing his gaze away from Rogue, Remy turns. Lensher and Xavier enter with several others.
"Your friends are going out with you. I want some of my friends to go along, as well". Erik turns to the people standing behind him "Manolete".
A Hispanic man steps forward.
"That's how I am called...Manolete. After the bullfighter".
Lensher continues "Teahouse".
Teahouse steps forward. A mean-looking Asian right out of Mortal Kombat. He joins his hands, as if in prayer, and bows.
"Pillsbury.
Pillsbury is a woman, a Sumo-sized Samoan, six hundred pounds
and seven feet tall, swaggering, decked out in a clatter of
fighting gear.
Rogue looks at them, impressed "Damn".
Pillsbury speaks with a voice as deep as the Mindanao trench. "I come here to do sumthin'. Not stann aroun'. Why we stann aroun'? Less go do sumthin'".
10TH STREET PIER - NIGHT
A long dock juts into the river. DEAD RECKONING stops beside it. Mouse jumps out. Lance stands in an open hatch.
Mouse looks around nervously "Don't leave me alone here long".
Lance pats him on the back "At midnight. Give me a call. Let me know if we're rich or not".
Mouse nods, running off to hide in a boat shed.
DEPOT - NIGHT
The steel doors to the subway tunnel open. Gambit and his team
step out. The depot has been devastated. Fires Burning.
Fences down. Only 'TONY BALONEY' moves, still waving spookily.
Open mouthed Pyro looks around "Geez. Lance made a mess".
Gambit speaks softly but his eyes are blazing "Lance didn't do all this".
Clouds of thick black smoke from the fires billow across the depot, restricting visibility. Ever-shifting openings in the clouds reveal glimpses of torn body parts.
"Stenches have been at this place".
He leads the way into the depot, his M-16 at the ready.
Behind him, all eyes peer nervously into the smoke. Everyone speaks in hushed tones.
Manolette looks at the floored fence "When the truck pulled out, it must have knocked the fence down. That's how they got in".
Gambit shakes his head "That fencing was pushed in from outside".
Teahouse speaks up "You know how many stenches it would take to do that?"
Gambit replies "There's a thousand of them out there for every one of us".
Pyro smiles nervously "Good thing we're smarter".
Rolling her eyes "Look who's talkin'".
Remy turns to Rogue "They're getting smart. I saw it, last time out. They're learning how to work together".
Thoughts darken. So does the smoke, which billows thicker,
virtually blinding the team. Sounds come. The moaning of the
wind. The popping of burnt metal and wood.
Teahouse looks around "What do they want?"
Rogue looks back as she walks. The zombies have taken down another section of the depot fence, beyond which lies a suburb. Beyond which is the river. Beyond which is the glow of the FIDDLER'S GREEN HIGH-RISE.
Realization enters her features "They want the city".
Remy nods "The city is us. They're after us. We pissed `em off one too many times".
Manolette laughs "They'll never get across the river".
Pyro puts his hands together and looks up "Thank Heaven".
Gambit smiles at his friend "Gotta love the guy. He still believes in Heaven. Anyone got a radio?"
Teahouse pulls a Motorola from his belt. Just as he tosses
it to Remy, they hear...GROWLING!
The team draws their weapons, standing in a loose circle, their backs to each other, guns searching for a target. Darting eyes peer into the void. More noises emanate from somewhere. Everywhere.
Slowly Pyro unstraps his Remington. Licks his thumb. Wets the
sight of the rifle.
Rogue whispers "Why do you do that?"
Pyro whipers back "Catches the light. Right now it's moonlight. Lets me see where I'm aimin'".
BLAM!
Pyro fires! A single shot into the black smoke.
Rogue jumps "The hell you shooting at?
He nods at the smoke "That thing".
A zombie steps out of the smoke! Before anyone can react, it grabs Rogue's shoulder from behind! She whirls around. Pulls away. Is about to shoot when she sees an entry wound on the left side of the Thing's forehead.
"Off-center. But I got him".
The Thing relaxes its grip and drops at Rogue's feet.
Manolette is hysterical "There's more of `em out there. I can hear `em. THERE'S MORE!"
There are shuffling sounds in the smoke. Manolete backs away.
Pillsbury grabs him. Slaps him, hard, across the face "If they is more, we gonna need mo guns. Pull `em out n'stann up wid us, like de man you ain't".
Riley lifts Teahouse's Motorola and pushes "Send" "Gambit. Calling the Green".
FIDDLER'S GREEN BOARDROOM
Xavier's face looks very alarmed "What?"
A trooper, equally alarmed, is reporting "Wiped out! That's what he said! LeBeau! He said the depot was wiped out by stenches!"
Lensher's face in unreadable "Thank you. Keep us informed".
DEPOT - NIGHT
Gambit and his Team move through drifting smoke. Vehicles are
scattered about. They stop at the T-BIRD. There are no keys in the ignition.
"Gotta go get the keys, Remy" sais Pyro to his friend.
Remy looks across the lot to the charred ruin of a shack. Tire fires burn around it. Debris smolders.
He sighs "Ain't no keys to get mon ami'. Melted".
"Screw keys. Hot wire the fucker".
Manolette climbs in and goes to work under the dash.
Pillsbury looks at him "He feelin' better since I hit `im".
Suddenly, Pyro draws his .45 and fires at Rogue BLAM! The
bullet buzzes just above her ear, blowing a wisp of white hair as zombie behind her drops, a hole in its head.
"Thanks, Pyro. That was useful" She breathes quite startled.
The wind shifts and black smoke envelopes them.
Manolette's infuriated voice "I can't see!"
Gambit pulls out a flashlight and shines it under the dash.
The team fans out around the T-Bird. The smoke is so thick they can't make out anything. Including each other.
Pyro peers into openings that shift on the breeze. What he doesn't see, what he can't see, is what's behind him.
A female walker, wearing the soiled and tattered remnants
of a bridal gown. The fabric seems to glow in the smoke.
The bride shuffles toward Pyro. No one sees it. Just as it opens its mouth to bite...
BLAM!
Rogue shoots her bullet cuts closer than the one Pyro fired, clipping off the top of his ear before dropping the bride.
Rogue smiles "Even-Steven".
Pyro in pain "Not! That hurt! I didn't hurt you!"
Manolete fumbles with colored wires under the dash.
"Hurry up mon ami".
Impatiently Pillsbury eggs on "Yellow to red!"
Teahouse looks at her disbelievingly "What the fuck does a Samoan know about hot-wiring cars?"
Pillsbury explains "Five thousand cars. Stole. Every year in Samoa".
Manolette snorts "Fifty thousand in Mexico".
Pillsbury nods "Mexico got a million cars. Samoa got five thousand. Every one. Stolen."
The T-Bird's engine revs.
Manolette jumps "I GOT IT! LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!"
Remy leads the team into the T-Bird. Manolete starts to get out from under the dash. As Teahouse settles into a seat by the door...
Something heavy and wet smacks his shoulder. It's a forearm it drops onto Teahouse as if thrown at him.
"God! Oh, GOD, WHAT'S THIS?!"
Teahouse hurls the bloody thing onto the asphalt. Shockingly, two arm ssprings back, grabbing Teahouse's shoulders! A headless corpse is behind him. He relaxes but all of a sudden a jolt from the headless corpse brings the head, which is hanging from a piece of skin, crashing on to Teahouse's neck and takes a great big chunk off.
Pyro shoots it.
Manolete climbs up behind the wheel and...VROOOOOM!...pedal to the metal he pulls out of the depot. Rogue glances at
Teahouse, then, wind in her hair, leans in close to Remy.
She softly speaks "How long does he have?"
He looks at her "I had a brother. Real brother, by birth. Bit. Hung on for six days. Before he turned. I was the one had to shoot him".
Rogues lifts one eyebrow "And you said nothin' bad ever happened to you".
Remy shakes his head "That happened to my brother".
She looks into his eyes "But you kept going".
He can't look away "Got to, right?"
She smiles "Yup. Dead is dead. And that ain't you. And that ain't me".
Rogue turns to Teahouse. "Sorry, man. I truly am".
She draws her .45, aims at Teahouse, and fires.
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