AN: Warning - This has Nellis in it, just FYI. Don't like it? Oh well!

Title: Mess-Maker

Pairing: Nick X Ellis

Rating: M (for language,violence, and sexual situations)

Genre: Drama/action/humor/romance (pretty much everything you can think of lol)

Synopsis: Nick and Ellis get separated from the others when the bridge leading from New Orleans to an evac station is blown up by the military. They struggle to find a way around the miles of the wreckage and happen to come across one small problem along their journey, all the while growing closer to each other than they ever did when fighting zombies.

Enjoy~!

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Part 7

Muffled cursing could be heard from the sidewalk in front of a ransacked candy store on Clayton St. The area was relatively clean for what used to be such a hot spot for shop-a-holics and the hip urban crowd, but there were the occasional infected women in their animal print pump stilettos and messy hair extensions that would try to take a bite out of the two unsuspecting male survivors who had traversed into their territory. The ladies' man of the duo would greet these lovely young girls with a debonair smile and his own personal form of a facial; AK style.

At the moment, though, said charmer was currently trying to scrape off a wad of Pepto-Bismol pink bubble gum that had latched onto his shoe by grinding it into the curb. The substance stretched across his weathered soles, still too sticky to want to cling to anything else, only allowing a small amount onto the concrete surface. Nick grunted in annoyance and gave up. It would lose it's adhesiveness eventually if they kept walking. There was no point in ruining a perfectly good pair of shoes over a piece of gum that some asshole spit onto the sidewalk. The conman lumbered on over to where Ellis was waiting for him, feeling the grit from the street attaching itself to his right sole. He dragged the one foot every other step to see if he couldn't still rub it off in the process.

The southerner forced the muscles in his mouth to frown lest he start outright laughing at how funny Nick's walk was. The attempt to hide his jovial expression, however, was not missed by his companion.

"You wanna wear this instead?" Nick lifted his foot to show the slightly muted pink stain smudged on his shoe. The kid gave a quick shake of his head, lips pressed together to hold in his amusement. He received a breathy snort in return as he and Nick kept trudging along Clayton St.

"You'd think that incidents like this wouldn't happen as often since zombie's don't exactly chew gum." His sarcastic tone wasn't helping to stifle Ellis' snickering.

"Actually, when yew think about it, it's kind of a good thing, ya know?"

Nick shot him a dark look. "And how the hell is getting gum all over my shoe a 'good thing'?"

"Well, like you said, zombies don't really like gum none, which means there must be other survivors around, considerin' that piece on yer shoe is still all sticky n' shit."

Nick had to admit that the boy made a good point; freshly chewed gum just lying on the sidewalk of a street that seemed to have been cleared of most infected? It was border line suspicious, if you asked him, like someone else had recently been through this area. And, wouldn't you know, Nick happened to see a few bullet holes dotted along a couple of the shops' exteriors. That, and judging by how old the gum on his shoe was, were obvious indicators that another survivor had already passed by here.

" 'Ey, Nick! C'mere fer a sec," Ellis called from the middle of the road. The conman went to see what the kid was shouting about.

"What is it?"

"Look at this." The mechanic held up a shiny silver object that looked like a hoop earring, although it was rather dull now that blood had crusted over part of it.

"So? Some zombie skank lost her earring. This is important, why?"

"I found thiswith it."

Unlike the jewelry, Nick was very familiar with the little black glove Ellis showed him next.

"Coach…"

The conman reached out to take the fo-leather accessory in his own hand and examined it, as if by doing so it would give him a clue to where their lost comrades might be.

"Yeah," the boy answered solemnly. "And I think that earring belongs to the ones that Ro has."

"They've been through here," Nick said in an almost whisper. He had nearly given up on the thought of ever regrouping with the other two again since they had gotten so turned around, but finding these accessories had sparked reassurance in the gambler once more.

"Yew think they were havin' a bit of trouble?" It was a reasonable question to ask. The blood on Rochelle's earring was probably from when a zombie unwittingly tore it out of her earlobe (ouch), and Coach's glove could've come off a number of ways, one being that he was going hand to hand with an infected that ripped it right off.

"I wouldn't doubt it. Rochelle was pretty messed up last we heard from them, remember? I'm sure Coach had to muscle their way through with her out of commission." He handed the glove back to Ellis for him to put it in the baby bag. "It can't have been more than a day since they've past by here. We should keep moving and see if we can catch up."

"… Right." Ellis stared at the hoop earring he kept toying with between his fingers, a forlorn look overtaking his usually cheerful face.

Nick sighed. He wanted to tell the kid how moping around wasn't going to help them catch up any faster, but refrained from making him anymore upset than he already was. "I'm sure they're fine, Ellis. You know them - they can take care of themselves. Hell, if we're still alive and kicking, then you knowthey gotta be."

"I know," the mechanic nodded. "I just hope they ain't too badly hurt is all."

"Well, if you're that worried about them, we'd better get a move on, don't you think?" His tone was firm, but not at all harsh.

"Okay." Ellis slipped Rochelle's earring into a small outside pocket of the baby bag and made sure the zipper was sealed before resuming their walk down Clayton St., their pace having picked up a bit from before.

It was easygoing for the few minutes they had been traveling, but Nick noticed that he was having a harder time keeping up than usual. The cloth strap around his chest pressed uncomfortably into the bruises he had acquired from the Charger earlier that day, but the pain was rather dull at least. He glanced back at Georgia, mildly surprised that she had been so quiet this whole time. The baby was still alive, it seemed, eyes open and attentive to nothing in particular. While she had been asleep beforehand, Nick's gum-shoe dance must've roused her.

The conman shook his head and faced forward. "The twerp weighs more than she looks."

"I told ya," Ellis piped up. "It's a real killer on yer back, ain't it? You sure you don' wanna trade off or somethin'?"

"Nope. I'm fine. You're the one who has a bad back right now, sport. Not me." Nick smirked at the implications of his younger companion having back trouble instead of himself.

"Oh, don'tchu worry none. I'll bounce right back like I always do. That's the benefits of still bein' so youngan' all."

Ellis had obviously caught the hidden innuendo in Nick's words, and it made the gambler give him a playful sneer.

"Well, this kid has us both beat by a long shot." He gestured to Georgia with a jerk of his head. "Not a single scratch after everything we've been through."

"It's like she's some sort of miracle baby, or somethin'. I think Keith was that way too when he was little."

"Keith? The guy who's gotten 90% of his bones broken and his body burned and his organs removed and his-"

Ellis interrupted the man's tirade. "Well he ain't no miracle baby now, of course. But he was, I swear it! Whenever we pulled stunts as kids, he hardly ever got hurt, an' I guess 'cuz it kinda rubbed off on me, too."

"Yeah, they have a name for something like that, Overalls. It's called dumb luck."

The boy shrugged, "Maybe yer right. But, whatever it was, I like to think we was bein' looked out fer by someone."

"Someone?" Nick asked as he adjusted the strap across his chest.

"Yup. No doubt we wouldn't've gotten away with half the stuff we did if it weren't fer that."

Nick could only figure that the mechanic was referring to the one and only big man upstairs, or whatever people called him nowadays. Ellis seemed like the kind of guy who'd be praying over every meal he had, or adding a "God" before the "bless you". As for the gambler… let's just say he didn't expect there to be a parking spot reserved for him behind those pearly gates. Did that bother him? Not in the slightest. While he wasn't denying the fact that there was a God out there, he hadn't made a point to dedicate part of his life to something that only mightbe instead of something that is.It was either one or the other - a two-sided coin - and, in the end, it was easier for the conman to simply not partake in this particular game.

" 'Course it might've also been on account of how much we asked the good Lord to keep us safe 'n' sound. I think it's when Keith stopped goin' to church regularly that he started makin' trips to the hospital more often. Ain't that the darnedest thing?" Ellis gave a hardy chuckle.

Nick recalled a time when Ellis had mentioned to the group about his Catholic upbringing, which made the conman laugh at first when he imagined the gritty hick dressed up in his Sunday best. Wearing anything besides the coveralls and autoshop hat he had throughout their journey sounded a bit ridiculous. Then again, the clothes they wore now didn't exactly define who they were in their past lives. For all he knew, Rochelle could've been a famous neurosurgeon had she not told them herself that she worked as a reporter. Nick had become so comfortable with the roles they had all settled themselves into that he never really thought about what kind of people they were outside of the apocalypse. Not that it mattered now.

"Honestly, kid, I don't think skipping Sunday school is what made him into Evil Kenevil Jr. gone wrong."

The mechanic guffawed at Nick's reference. "I'll have to tell Keith 'bout that one."

"You do that," Nick smiled at the boy's brightened mood.

The two of them continued their trek in silence for the most part, which was just fine with the conman, Georgia making your typical baby noises every now and then. The further away from downtown they went, the more populated it was with infected. So far, they had come across over a dozen commons, one hunter, two jockeys, and a boomer to boot. The two survivors were amazed at how easily they were able to plow through the mess, but the possibility that their friends weren't too far off gave them a boost of adrenaline, even without the shot.

Ellis ran out of bullets for one of his pistols at some point, and the other was short on supply as it were. His only other defense was a frying pan, and that just wasn't going to cut it. The conman's AK was doing pretty well if only because he was purposely conserving as much ammo as he could by aiming for the zombies' heads in an instant kill.

The one jockey that had clamped itself onto the kid's back was promptly thrown off first and then dealt two shots between the eyes, leaving nothing but a scrawny, pink sack of bones at their feet.

"Thanks, man. Hate those things…" He grumbled as he let his companion pull him up by the hand.

"You and me both, kid." Nick wiped the sweat off his palms real quick while staring at the ghastly smile forever carved onto the Jockey's face. He'd often times refer to these particular special infected as "jokers" because of how much they reminded him of the renowned villain from Batman; always laughing, never frowning, and crafty, too. Despite their deranged behavior, there were a number of times when a Jockey would seem to purposefully lead it's chosen victim away from other survivors, or over a ledge, sometimes right into a swarm of other infected. It was unsettling how clever these monsters turned out to be in combat. For all he knew, the bastards had their own secret way of communicating with each other, and not just the Jockeys. This gave the gambler a queazy feeling in the pit of his gut.

As if on cue, another demented bout of cackling erupted from behind him, not but a few feet away. He heard the mechanic call his name to warn him, and as Nick turned to defend himself he saw the second Jockey pounce from the ground and up into the air, targeting the baby-clad back of the conman.

"Oh no you don't, you little-"

Ellis came from around the side faster than Nick could process and smashed the flat end of his skillet right into the Jockey's bloody face. The special infected went down like a sandbag, obviously stunned from the sudden blow, which gave his attacker the perfect chance to lay more well executed smacks to the head, rendering it unconscious for now. This wasn't good enough, however, as Nick came forward and planted a single bullet into the Jockey's skull like he had the last one, putting it the full seven feet under.

The two men glared down at the infected circus freak, new blood stains that were not their own adorning their clothing from the close encounters. The sound of a bellowing Boomer came from their right, in which Ellis raised his pistol and took out the blubbering mass of bile with one shot, his eyes never leaving the Jockey they'd killed. A telltale heavy booming noise followed after.

The survivors looked at each other, breathing heavily from the wave of panic that had coursed through them. Ellis was the first to speak up.

"Is she alright?"

"You tell me." Nick turned his back to the mechanic so that he could check on the baby. The boy gasped when he saw flecks of blood on her cheeks and forehead, but soon realized that they were from the Jockey he had K.O.'d. Georgia had a stream of drool sliding down her lip, but other than that she seemed okay.

"She's fine," he let out a sigh of relief. "Man, that was close."

"Too close," Nick snorted. "Good thing you went into mama bear mode before it got to me."

"Yeah, I- what?"

"What?"

"Did you just say I went into 'mama bear mode'?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, one wouldn't usually beat a Jockey to death with a frying pan like that, dude."

"Well, I didn't want that thing to hurt her! Yew were pretty ruthless yerself now, ya know?"

"Hey, better safe than sorry, right? It's always a good idea to double tap the specials before they double tap you." Nick couldn't tell if they were arguing or handing each other compliments at this point.

Ellis huffed and held his hands up. "Fine. I'm the mama bear… and you're a koala."

The conman's brow furrowed as the kid turned to keep walking, not quite sure what he was getting at with that comment until he felt Georgia wriggling between his shoulder blades.

"Oh ho ho…" he gave a cynical laugh while twisted the makeshift baby sling around so that he could have access to the child. He held her up by the armpits and approached the boy. "Ellis, you should've toldme that you were getting jealous of my bonding with Georgia. Well, guess what? You got your wish. Here ya go!" He plopped the infant into the mechanic's hands with a fake smile on his face.

"Wha-? Nick, your bein' awful sore 'bout this whole thing. And weren't yew the one who volunteered to carry her fer a while?"

"Volunteer? Who volunteered? I never once said I would carry her for the rest of the day."

"Well, I just assumed since you picked her up yer damn self and put her on yer back an' all-"

"Yeah, you assume a lot of things, Ellis."

"What does thatmean?"

"Eeeuuuuu…"

The two men looked to where Georgia was situated between both of their hands. Her face was a bit red from how tense she became all of a sudden, tiny hands curling and uncurling. She let out a few puffs of air every now and then as if she were previously holding her breath from trying to do… something.

"What the heck is she doing?"

Ellis didn't answer the conman straight away, just as confused at the baby's strange behavior, but he didn't need to once that familiar odor hit their nostrils.

"Uhh, I think that answers yer question."

The gambler wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Yeah… unfortunately."

"We better find a place to change her," Ellis sighed and lifted the baby girl up to his chest so that she was looking out over his shoulder. He knew that Nick wouldn't want her now that she'd dropped a bomb.

Nick watched the mechanic's retreating form for a few seconds before arching his back to get all the kinks out of it from carrying the baby. With a tired sigh of his own, he followed his comrade to wherever he had decided would be a good changing station.

They had found a secluded spot in one of the city's parks about two streets down from Clayton. Nick scouted the area for infected and exterminated the ones he happened to come across with Ellis' frying pan. He had left the rifle with the mechanic in case he and Georgia needed it while he was away.

Nick heard the hacking cough of a Smoker nearby and didn't get the chance to pinpoint where it was until he felt it's slimy tentacle-like tongue wrap around his upper body. He fell onto his back with a thump, wincing as the bruise he had there connected with the uneven gravel walkway. The special proceeded to pull it's victim up into the tree it had concealed itself in, which was only about ten feet away from the conman. Instead of calling for help like any other survivor would do, Nick looked around for something to cut the tongue with seeing as a skillet wan't going to do much. Sunlight bounced off of something shiny on the gambler's thigh, temporarily blinding him during his struggle, and he mentally smacked himself when the knife he had taken from the apartments earlier came into view.

The Smoker was already pulling Nick up into the canopy of the tree when it felt something slice into it's tongue, causing the prey to escape it's grasp. The conman discarded the left over tongue loosely draped around his shoulders and whipped around to face his opponent. Before the Smoker could make for it's retreat, Nick held up the single pistol he borrowed from Ellis and took out the special with ten or more rapid-fire shots (or so it seemed by how fast Nick's trigger-happy fingers were releasing the bullets.) The Smoker slumped over and fell out of the tree on the other side, it's now flaccid tongue following limply after. Nick rolled his shoulders and spat at the ground to get the smokey taste out of his mouth before approaching his kill.

"If it weren't for those damn Tanks, you guys would definitely make the top spot on my hit list," he said with a humorless laugh, which soon turned into a few agonizing coughs. The cloud of green smoke made it too difficult for the conman to get any closer, so he kept his distance and studied the tumor-riddled face of the special from where he was. Nick was thankful that he was somehow immune to the infection's effects, otherwise there was a good chance he'd turn into one of those long-tongued freaks.

The smoke was clearing, and he was about to head back to where Ellis and Georgia were when he saw something poking out from the other side of the tree. The gambler took a few cautious steps toward the object and was able to make out what looked like a bright blue box of…

"Bullets?"

And entire pile of ammo was just piled against the trunk of the tree, free for the taking. The corner of Nick's mouth lifted up in a smirk as he bent down to see what kind of ammunition was offered. There were your standard pistol bullets, and some heavy duty ones for a couple types of rifles, as well as a few shotguns shells. Nick briefly thought of how excited Ellis would be if he were here right now, and how excited he willbe when he took all of this ammo back to their spot.

"Looks like Christmas came early this year," he smiled.

Back at one of the park benches, Ellis had just finished changing Georgia for the hundredth time that day, throwing the dirty diaper into one of the trash receptacles. He noticed when grabbing the clean diaper out of the baby bag that they were running fairly low on their supply, with only six or seven left total. That would probably be enough to last a day and a half at most, which wasn't going to suffice. There was no way Nick would allow them to carry around a diaper-less baby unless they wanted her excrements all down their backs. Ellis made a note in his head to mention visiting a shopping center after the conman got back.

"Man, where is he? Shouldn' take that long to pop off a few zombies out here." A warm wave of anxiety rolled through the boy's body. The possibility that his companion was in some sort of trouble was not absent from his mind. For the past couple of minutes he'd been hearing the distant crack of his skillet and occasional firing of the one pistil they had, but now the only thing making noise was the whisper of wind sifting through the trees lined along the parkway path. The silence was rudely interrupted, though, when a snarling infected came barreling towards he and Georgia, her arms pinwheeling as if they were detached from their sockets.

With little to no effort, Ellis raised Nick's rifle and shot the girl's leg out from under her. This wasn't enough, apparently, as she used her arms to drag herself closer to her victims despite the obvious amputation she had received. The mechanic's expression flicked to one of horror before double tapping her in the head, just like Nick had demonstrated earlier. Once he was sure the infected woman was dead, a shiver crawled up Elli's spine. He couldn't believe how driven then things were just to kill off one survivor, or one and a half in this case. Ellis had never shown an interest in science or medicine, but he would loveto figure out how the unique symptom of "blind rage" manifests itself in the infected.

His ears perked up at a rustling sound coming from the bushes behind their bench, and he quickly swiveled his gun towards…

"Woah, woah, woah! It's me, Ellis!"

"Nick!" The boy lowered his weapon and let out a strained breath. "Damn, I almost shot yew!"

"Yeah! Jumpy much?" The conman brushed off a few leaves and twigs that had caught onto his suit while climbing the rest of the way out of the thicket.

"Well yew should know better n' to sneak up from behind like that! Give a guy fair warnin' next time, 'kay?"

"Okay, okay! Jeez, sorry." Nick straightened his suit lapels and took a stance in front of the bench. "And here I thought I'd surprise you with a little something when I got back, but since you've just been surprised…"

"Huh? What'dya mean?" The mechanic's interest had been thoroughly peaked.

Nick smirked while reaching into his bulging pockets and pulling out their contents. "Happy Hanukkah, Overalls," he joked. The boy's face morphed into that devious smile he always had when discovering a new "toy" he could use against the zombies.

"Oh, HELL yes," he exclaimed, immediately grabbing a box of AK-47 rounds. "Where'd yew find all of these?"

"Well, if it weren't for the Smoker that nearly got me, I wouldn't have. I think it was using the ammo as bait for when survivors pass by, that cunning bastard…"

"A Smoker? How'd you manage to get yerself outta that one," Ellis asked with mildly impressed.

Nick shrugged. "I have my ways." It was fun to let the kid think he was some sort of badass magician.

"Wow, this is great!" Ellis marveled at the different kinds of ammo his companion had brought back. As long as we don't run into any Tanks, this should hold us for a couple days at least."

"Hey, don't jinx us, kid," Nick said pointing an accusatory finger at him. "A Tank is the last thing we need with a baby on board."

"Oh yeah, about that…" Ellis breeched the subject with a delicacy that he hoped would quell the conman's reaction.

Nick finished reloading his gun with a distinct click that sounded more like a death toll than anything. "What?"

"We're kinda sorta runnin' out of diapers."

Somehow, Nick knew this issue would come up sooner or later, and he let out a frustrated sigh as soon as those words left the kid's mouth. "Perfect." He jerked his head the other way and scoffed. "I'm not surprised considering how many shits she takes a day. She's like a goddamn factory!"

"Nick, there's no need to get all upset about it. We just gotta find a grocery store and pick up s'more."

"You say that like it's a trip to Kiddie Land," Nick shook his head. "We don't have time to be sidetracked. Coach and Rochelle aren't too far ahead and we're gonna lose a lot of ground between us if we waste time shopping for Miss Gerber Baby here."

Georgia cooed while moving her jaw up and down, coming out as a repetitive stream of "ya ya ya".

"Well, unless yew want to carry her around half naked and covered in her own filth, then I don' see any other option here."

"I knowthat!"

Ellis quirked one eyebrow. "Then why're yew whinin' about it?"

"Because!Let's go," Nick barked, rather abruptly.

This time, both of the mechanic's eyebrows went up, mouth slightly open and utterly stupefied by the conman's odd behavior. His pupils shifted from Georgia back to Nick, wondering what the hell had gotten into his fellow survivor. That was it? Just up and go? The gambler didn't put up as big of a fight as Ellis thought he would.

"Hey, Daddy Daycare! You coming?"

The boy looked like he was about to say something, but closed his mouth instead and shrugged, rising from his perch on the bench with Georgia nestled back in her baby sling. He caught up with the conman and peered at him from the corner of his eye to see Nick's current expression. He wasn't happy, obviously, but at least he consented to the task, and that was really all Ellis could ask for.

"Thanks, Nick."

"Mmgrh."

They continued to walk a few more blocks, breaking in the new rifle and pistol rounds they got when a few infected stumbled their way, and, boy, did it ever make them feel good! Having a fully loaded gun along with ample ammo replacements was one of the most satisfying things a survivor could ever hope for. Now all they had to do was make it last until they came across another safe room, or their teammates.

Ellis still only used one of his pistols though, keeping the other tucked away in case they truly needed it later on. Normally, he wouldn't have the tact to think about doing this, but Nick had taught him a thing or two about conserving supplies and making the best of what they had in the zombie apocalypse. The conman noticed this change in his partner and was glad that some of his own perception had rubbed off onto the boy - God knows he needed it from the way he was blowing up every gas tank he saw when they first started out.

A severely tattooed infected came lunging towards the gambler from his blind spot, tripping the last minute and clamping a greasy hand onto the white of his pant leg. Nick kicked his attacker off as if he were electrocuted and returned the crude gesture with two well placed bullets.

The hiss that sizzled through the conman's teeth didn't go unnoticed by Ellis, the mechanic making eye contact with the back of his comrade's slicked-back hair before looking down at the leg he was so gingerly lifting to examine.

"Did it get ya?"

Nick immediately put his leg back down as if almost forgetting that he wasn't alone. "Naw. It just… got my pants dirty."

"No offense, Nick, but yer entire suit is kinda on the dirty side," Ellis chuckled.

"Well I'd rather not get it dirtier than it already is, thank you." The conman's tone was a bit tight, and it made the boy suspicious. Nick had a tendency to hide the fact he was in pain or needed help from anyone, and Ellis had picked up on this habit enough to keep the man from keeling over later in their travels by aiding him or giving him a bottle of pills, whether he wanted help or not.

His intuition happened to be dead on when he saw a few red patches on his pant leg start to swell.

"Yer bleedin'…"

Nick looked down at his leg as if it weren't a big deal. "Oh. Yeah, it is. Guess the Witch wound reopened."

"Shit, that ain't good. Why don'tchu let me fix that up right quick?" Ellis asked while setting down the baby bag.

"With what? We have no more gauze, kid. It's just gonna have to wait."

"You kiddin' me? The last thing we need is yew bleedin' all over the place and passin' out on us later," he said with a lopsided grin. "Now quit yer bitchin' and let me heal ya."

Nick was about to confront him with the same question from before when he saw the mechanic grab the knife from his suit-clad thigh and use it to cut off one of the kid's coverall's arm sleeves that was wrapped around his waist. It was just long enough and thick enough to make an effective compressor for his weeping injury.

"There. That oughta' keep 'til we get to a shoppin' center and raid the pharmacy section," the boy nodded and stood, brushing dirt off his knees.

"Not bad." Nick held up his leg a bit to survey the work done. "It's certainly tight enough."

"Better that than havin' it slide down yer leg while yer walkin'," Ellis reassured him.

Nick nodded. "True."

"Alrighty then! Let's get goin'. Like yew said, we're gonna have some catchin' up to do later on." Ellis slid the baby bag back onto his shoulder and waited until the conman was along side him before walking.

The burn in Nick's leg didn't slow him down too much, but it was clearly bothering him nonetheless. He tried concentrating on something else besides his wound for the time being, scanning the streets for anymore of those big burly infected, like the one that had got the jump on him. It reminded him of that one biker vigilante-looking guy they had come across on their trip across a bridge of which he couldn't remember the name. What was his name again? Franco? Fido? Nick was terrible with names sometimes. Boy, was that guy a royal pain in the-

"Hey, look!"

Nick looked to where the southerner was pointing and saw a Shop'n'Go!on the other side of the street a couple blocks up from where they were. He chanted a silent hallelujah in his head at the sight of those gaudy red letters.

"I knew we'd find one sooner or later," the boy whooped.

"Well, aren't we lucky you were born with the gift of foresight?" Nick said sarcastically.

"C'mon!" Ellis jogged up ahead a few steps before turning around to face the conman with a challenge in his eyes. "Last one there eats a cow pie!"

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To be continued…

AN: A pretty equal amount of talking and action in this chapter. :T I tried to get Georgia more involved since I've been kind of ignoring her lately, lol, but she'll be fairly prominent in the next part, I swear. C:

Thank you for reading!