"This is your left...your gonna die" Some show on ATHF

A week or so had past and the crew was still stuck at the motel. Rachael was inside, watching TV, the hit-men were outside, doing whatever it is that they do slightly best, and the couple were in their own room.

The news was pretty much mundane and boring to Rachael, she preferred those Saturday morning cartoons. She liked that New Adventures of Flash Gordan and that Twilight Zone series. She sat crossed leg on the couch and ate a bowl of cereal, being careful not to spill any, Whitey would be mad if she were to spill anything. He's kind of scary when he's mad. She also hates it when others are mad at her, especially when it's Whitey who is mad at her. Mad him equals something bad for her, or something like that. Gloria had just gotten new milk from the corner store, the refrigerators were still working, thankfully, and so Rachael thought it was the perfect time to eat cereal. The girl sort of wondered if the couple had their own mini-fridge. She wanted one. She watched the news, stared at the TV actually, as if it were some sacred thing. The news was about the plague, as usual. The plague was all they talked about these days. She wanted to hear something else. Anything but the plague. Cartoons. She wanted to watch cartoons.

The three hit-men were outside minding their own business. Whitey was currently opening the outside air vent so he can go in and travel. He's been doing that for days. Stiltskin was talking to Scarface, when they both heard gunshots coming from their room. They dismissed it, thinking that Rachael must have been watching a movie, maybe an old western movie or one of those spy movies. They also heard screams. Must be a horror film or maybe the damsel in distress is in trouble.

Inside the ventilation system, the albino was having no problems traveling that maze. He ignored that foul stench, he was used to it, just like he was used to dark, enclosed spaces. He decided to watch the couple for a while. For entertainment, not for any perverted reasons or anything else like that. He's been doing that for days also and he has yet to be caught.

Rachael was bored watching the news, it got interesting, and a little sad in the middle, but then that funny music came on and the screen changed to a picture of a smiling flower and some words that said they were having technical difficulties and to please stand by. So, she sat there bored, with nothing to do, except for reading and she didn't feel like it. She sat on the couch until she realized that the air vent cover was not on where it should be. Then she had this very fun idea of traveling through the air ventilation system. It was the perfect way to end her boredom. She crawled into the semi dark space, swallowing the tiny bit of fear she felt and started to crawl again.

As she was crawling she saw a humanoid figure. She crawled some more to get a better look at the figure and saw that it was one of her most favoritest person. How he became her favorite person he has yet to be find out.

"Whi-," she was about to say until he put his hand over her mouth. "Mhhi. Mhhoff mff mmmph?"(Hi. How are you?)

The albino wished he has his weapons with him now, especially that chloroform. It was often a quick and easy way for turning a person off. Knives were good too, and guns are even better. They take care of a lot of people in a short amount of time and since he's good with guns, they stayed down for a very, very long time. Needless to say, he really wants his weapons back.

"Why didn't you kill me?"

"I could have but I thought that my brother would take care of you."

Scarface hated it when Stiltskin mention his brother. He didn't want to think about what had happened. He also hated how Stiltskin always changed the subject whenever he wants to talk about his near death experience. Sure, he did have some sort of amour, a crappy makeshift one, that should not have worked, but it did. In fact, why is he complaining, he should be happy that he is still alive. Well, my friends, he just curious and wants to know how he or even Whitey survived. Especially Whitey. He also would have been more happier if that albino creep wasn't alive.

Just then, a thug came by and demanded that they give him some money. He was very pathetic, his gun even shook while he held it. The two hit-men just chose to ignore him and continued with their conversation.

"D-don't ignore m-m-me!" the thug screamed. "I'll-I'll shoot!"

The Dwarf looked at Scarface and the man got the message.

"Time to go get the ax," he said out loud so the thug could hear him.

The thug watched the man with the scar on his face leave to go fetch the ax. His eyes widen as Stiltskin glared at him. He was staring a man with a gun in his hand down. Let that sink in. He didn't blink nor wavered when the man pointed the gun at his face.

The thug saw that the man was unafraid and it scared him. If a gun pointed at his face didn't scare the man than he must have been through some pretty tough things and he survived them. "Wh-wh-who are y-y-you?"

"The biggest hit-man west of Chicago. The Dwarf, Rupert Stiltskin." He has always wanted to say that.

When he said that, the thug ran away. He was not going to face someone like that. The man might have connections. Mafia-like connections. Or the man could be an undercover cop. Either way, he wasn't going to mess with somebody like that. He valued his life too much. Then Scarface came out and watched the thug with a bored expression, which was right before somebody screaming. Finally, something interesting was about to happen, unless one were to count that pathetic thug.

"Whitey got caught," Stiltskin said. Better go get him out of trouble, he thought. Another normal day for him.

"D-damn it, damn it," the thug murmured to himself. "I'll n-never get this d-damn thing to work!" He punched the white van behind him and found out that it wasn't the best idea. It hurt. Badly.

A dark-skinned woman appeared next to him, putting her hands on his shoulder. "Don't worry David," she said. "We'll get out soon." She pulled off the band from one of her pigtails and readjusted it.

"Th-thanks Lorene."

An other man, about the same age as David, greeted them, "Next time, I'm doing it." He wrapped his arms around David's shoulder. "Hey buddy. How are you?"

"Lemme g-g-go,K-ken. N-nnn-ow. N-now."

"Fine, fine," Ken took his arms off David.

They were, what some would call, hoodlums, thugs, and anything else that held the same meaning, but to them they were more than that. They were friends. And friends stick together, no matter what the circumstances are.

As of now, they are stuck in San Francisco with no transportation, save for walking, and no money. It sucked for them.

Stanley awoke in the backseat of the car. He tried to remember how he got there or what happened to him, but his headache wouldn't allow him. Not to mention, his strangely, burning eyes. 'Wait a minute, pounding headache, burning eyes.' It was all coming back to him. Stella. 'She must have knocked me out.' He remembered most of what happened now, the rest was a bit fuzzy. It had something to do with him doing something and Stella reacting. Now, he will never ever greet her from behind.

The couple looked at the albino, who was lying on the floor, and Rachael, who was a couple of feet away from the albino. The thought of Whitey watching them for who knows how long was enough to send shivers down their spines, especially Gloria. Well, it would have been, if it weren't for the fact that he looked pathetic lying on the floor, holding his hand, grimacing. That, and Rachael was with him. Rachael always followed him around, for some inexplicable reason. Not to long afterward, Stiltskin burst into the room and pulled Whitey up, using the albino's tie to do that, and marched out of the room, still holding the other man's tie. The couple watched, unused to seeing something like that happened. It's not everyday that one sees something like that happening. They looked at each other and decided to never mention what has happened. Ever. Unless it was to torment the albino whenever he got out of line.

"Rachael, spit that out. It's not edible," Tony told the girl, who was currently chewing on one of the screws. She spit it out like he told her to.

Rachael did not bother to get off the floor. She thinks she should apologize to him. She didn't mean to hurt him, so it is only fair that she apologizes to him.

"She bit me," Whitey said, showing his injured hand to his boss.

"Clean it up then," Stiltskin said a tad bit too harshly. "I will talk to Rachael later," he added quickly once he saw the expression on his protege's face. 'Damn. Oh well, the man needs to take care of himself. He's capable. He's an adult and therefor should be capable. Although, it did look like it hurts. Who knew Rachael can bite that hard? Hard enough to draw blood. Yeah, Whitey should get that cleaned, don't want it to get infected. Time to go talk to Rachael and see how she's fairing.'

The white-haired man quickly put rubbing alcohol into his wounds and damn did it sting. Rachael, she bit him not too long after he put his hand over her mouth. He tried to hit her, but the change of position caused him to lose his balance and topple forward, while hitting the air-vent cover, onto the floor, and bringing the girl with him.

Someone out there must be getting a kick out of his injuries. He is sure of it. What else can explain all the injuries so far: bloody nose, friction-burnt leg, bitten hand, and all the others?

"You got hurt by a girl," Scarface quipped. He was about to add something about the albino getting hurt by women in general or better yet, everybody, but decided against it after he saw Whitey glaring at him. It's not worth starting a fight with the albino, without his weapons the man can barely fight. His injured hand certainly isn't going to help. Scarface also knew that once the white-haired man did get his weapons back, he would be a goner.

"...you got stabbed by sewing needles...," Whitey mummer, not too long after Scarface had left the bathroom. He, like Scarface, knew that getting into a fight was a bad idea. That man was a much better fighter then he was. Also, Stiltskin would be mad at him.

"Why did you bite his hand, Rachael?" Stiltskin asked the girl.

"Hard time breathing," she answered quickly, still smiling. The older man took note of her hands rhythmic action of clenching and unclenching.

"I am not angry with you," he told the girl. "But Whitey is and you should apologize to him." It's best to be gentle in a time like this. Most children respond better. He had a lot of practice dealing with children. Specifically nieces and nephews. They're so cute, but some were so bratty.

"Yessir," the girl said, leaving the couple's room to go find that albino and say sorry. She is hoping the she could get him to smile. It sure would be nice. He always seemed to be in a bad mood or in no mood at all. She remembered that somebody told her about how nice it was to see others smile. She wished she could remember more about that person, he seemed kind. That would have to wait, right now, she has to say sorry.

She quietly opened the door, afraid, for some reason, of what might happen. Perhaps, it was his reaction that she was scared of. She did bite his hand after-all. She quickly scanned the room and saw that the bathroom door is opened. Her legs were shaking as she went inside. She smiled and said "Sorry."

The man blinked when he heard those words. He felt his lips twitch downward right after she said those words. He did nothing but stand hunched over the bathroom sink, frowning; waiting for the girl to leave. She didn't. Afterward, he grasped the girl's shoulder and threw her out of the bathroom.

"Sorry," she said again as she heard the door slam. She put her hand in her mouth and chomped down hard on it. She smiled. Just like that man in her memory told her to.

"Do you like comic books?" the young boy asked the Turk.

"Yes," he replied.

"I have Archie, Superman, Batman, Spider man, and other heroes. Do you want to see them?"

"Okay."

Noah ran upstairs to go and retrieve his comic book collections.

The convicts, since they didn't have anyplace to go in this plague ridden country, had chosen to stay with the Smiths. To them, it was better than being in prison, or in the streets. The food was delicious. The beds were comfy. The house's big. Yes, it is nice to be guests over there.

"Here they are," the boy announced to the Turk.

And so the Turk and the boy sat on the living room floor and read comic books together.

"Um, Rachael, what are these?" the scar faced man asked as a furry creature crawled over his thigh.

"Kitties," she said. "Found them someplace. In some box. Mother's with them."

"They're adorable," Gloria said while holding the mother cat. "I wish you would have told us that you were going to walk around for a bit, though."

"You had us very worried," Tony added.

"Sorry," she said.

"Where did you get that injury on hand from?" Tony asked.

"Cat scratched me."

"Mmhmm. Well, be careful next time," he told her. Her response was fast, to say the least. It made it seemed like she was hiding something. He might have to check with her later.

Scarface sat on the couple's couch, playing with a kitten, while waiting for Stiltskin to get done with talking to Whitey. It had something to do with apologizing and Rachael disappearing for a while. He's not really sure. Oh well, it usually means that Whitey is in trouble, which now that he thought of it, was actually pretty satisfactory. Nothing like sitting back and watching life handle all your problems. Especially when it involves punishment for that creepy albino. He didn't even have to do anything. He doesn't have the guts to do anything. Which is why he always got someone else to do it for him. He remembered fondly that day in some bar and a woman was crying.

"Hey, there's no need to cry. Have some fun," he told the woman.

"Yes, th-there is," she sobbed.

"What happened?"

"...called me a whore and a slut and...and said that I slept with a whole lot of men and that I paid them."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Yes. Why do you want to know?"

"I just think that he should be here, comforting you. Where's is he?"

"Over there."

Scarface pushed through the crowd to get to a small table, which had a few dudes sitting, some laughing, others smoking, playing a card game, and others drinking beer. He stopped right in front of the table and slammed his hands down on it.

"Yes?" the woman's boyfriend asked. His group of buddies stopped what they were doing and watched the scar faced man.

"You see that man over there?" Scarface pointed to a tall man, standing in a corner, hunched and staring intently at anyone who walked right by him.

"Yeah."

"He's been calling your girlfriend a slut and said that she paid men to have sex with her, so now she's crying."

"That sonofabitch," the man growled. He stalked towards the white-haired man and punched him in the face.

The albino held his nose after the punched. He looked at his attacker only to receive another punch to the face and a knee-kick to his stomach, knocking him down. The man kept kicking Whitey while he was on the floor, trying to crawl away. He felt something crunched in one of his hand and saw that another man was standing on it. Pain traveled up his arm, to his spine. His arm jerked, he tried to pull his hand free from the other man, but the other man just looked at him and pushed his foot even more on Whitey's hand.

'Not again.'

The man's buddies came over and started to punch and kick the albino. One man pulled the albino's head up and the other kicked him in the jaw which caused the albino's mouth to close and he ended up biting his tongue as a result. The woman's boyfriend grabbed the albino's hair and bashed his head onto the wooded floor, over and over and over, causing the albino's vision to become fuzzy. Once they were done with him, the crying-woman's boyfriend spat on his bloody, bruised face.

Whitey's vision cleared and he saw that there was a crowd that was watching him. Faces, he saw their faces. Most of them were laughing. At him, he believed. No, they were laughing at him. Laughing at the incompetent man who couldn't even fight back. Then his vision got blurry again, he could barely see their faces, he could still hear them laughing though, and he pushed himself up. He ran, pushing others out of his way until he reached a door. He opened it, then ran out, not even bothering to close it on the way out.

Scarface laughed at the whole ordeal, glad that his plan worked. This was one the best nights ever, other then that ladies' bathroom incident.

Good times indeed.

Everyone moved away from Scarface once they saw him grinning, except for Rachael, she was...smiling as well.

"What?"

Finally, after an hour or so of talking, Scarface, and Rachael, were allowed back inside their room. Rachael was trying to give Whitey a kitten, who reluctantly took it after Stiltskin glared at him. He held the kitten by the neck and looked at the small fuzzball with contempt. It, oblivious to the meaning behind the weird man's stare, simply stared back, mewling. He stared at it some more, perhaps thinking he could kill by just glaring at it. The kitten stared back. Eh, it's sort of cute. It sort of reminds him of his pet rabbit he had as a child.

"Poor Speckles," he said without realizing.

"Who's Speckles?" Scarface asked. He didn't get an answer. Why would the albino say something about Speckles if he wasn't even going to explain himself? All the albino did was glance at him, then he gave Rachael back the kitten, who put it in a box with the mother and the rest of the kittens. It is going to be so interesting to find out just who the hell Speckles was. It must be some pet the albino had. The albino, with a pet, now that's something.

"I'm just as surprised as you are," Tony told Gloria. "I'd thought that they would have attempted to kill us a when they had the chance."

He turned off the lamp that was on his side of the bed.

"I just don't think it's wise leaving Rachael with them," Gloria replied.

"You still don't trust him, do you?" he asked.

"What do you think?"

"I think that you scare him."

"Really? How?" she asked.

"You beat him up with your umbrella."

"You shot him through the neck."

"It's hard to believe he's still alive. I don't think Stiltskin's telling the whole truth," he said.

"He seem dead to me."

"Exactly, how could he have survived being shot right through the neck and that fall? The blood loss should have killed him. Anyways, even if we were to keep Rachael away from them, she would probably find some way just to be with him. She seems very attached to him."

"I still don't get what she sees in him. He isn't kind or smart, like you are. He's nothing but a criminal, a..."

"Low-life thug, who kills for a living. I know, I know. Rachael will tell you if you ask. Besides, she's a strange girl. Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight," she kissed him the lips.

He couldn't save anyone. The black-bearded man look at the gun in his shaking hand. He couldn't save him. He felt like a failure. He was a failure. He no longer bother with cleaning up his house. They were all dead anyways, so what's the point. He focus his attention on the roaches that were eating his left over food. It didn't matter. The guy he wanted to see is probably dead, so what's the point of living? He couldn't save him. Can he really do it? Can he really end his own life? He couldn't save him. He put the barrel of the gun next to his temples and...he couldn't pull the trigger. He wanted to, but then he thought about seeing that man. Yes, he, Earl, was going to find that man and say he's sorry for all that he's done. He's not going to die before he does.

"Hey, Commander," said Joshua Brown. "Um, remember that order...the one to send that super flu to some other countries, I wasn't really paying attention to that part, well, anyways...they want you to quit stalling and hurry it up."

Joshua waited for Commander's response. Commander was a nickname given to the man sitting at the clutter desk in the small room. For a moment, Commander did nothing but stare at the wall in front of him, the wall with that one big hole that he has been meaning to fix for quite some time. It's been there since he got there. He had been told that there was a rodent infection, but it was taken care of.

"I will," Commander said solemnly. "I will."

Joshua abruptly left the room once he saw Commander with his eyes cast down and his hand clasped in front of his face. Whenever he does that, it usually means that he wants to think. And if someone were to bother him, they would have to pay a hefty price.

"May God forgive us," Commander sobbed out, as he put his head on the desk and cried. Damn sensitive people. Always crying and not getting any work done.

"Yes, may God forgive all of us," Joshua said softly after he heard the man sobbing. 'It's one thing to have the United States plague ridden, but to actually, purposely, send it to other countries, just because the government doesn't like them. Just to cover up their mistake and make it seem like the virus came naturally when they in fact created that wretched thing, no.'

Commander was not the one who would actually send the virus to the other countries himself. No, he was to give them the message so that they would send it. He considered himself just as guilty though. This isn't the worse he's done. No, it's far from it.

He stood up and walked to a door, different from the one Joshua used, and unlocked it.
The hallway was clean, as always, he always cleaned it after he was done. The florescent lights were starting to give him a headache. He ignored it and stopped right in front of a door with neatly painted numbers on them. He unlocked and was greeted by a small boy.

"How are you today," he said, patting the small child on his head.

"Cold, father, but good," the boy responded.

"Hmm, I will have to tell them to get you some more clothes then," the child only had a thin shirt on and some shirt. The shirt, unlike the floor and walls on the hallway, were dirty. It's hard getting rid of those stains. "I need you to be still, while I put this in," he said gently as he got out a syringe.

"Yes father," the small child held out his arm and allowed the man to inject an unknown substance into his bloodstream.

"That's a good boy," Commander gave the boy a cherry flavor lollipop, the boys favorite. He gently lifted up the boy and put him on the bed. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight father."

Commander locked the door behind him and walked down the freezing hallway. He ignored the screaming children, who had saw him, begging him to comfort them. He ignore the coughing heard from the room that he was just in. He had to do this. He needed for the children to build up an immunity to the plague, which is why he's injecting it in them. He just hopes that the boy would survive the night. Not like the others. He hopes the boy does not turn in one of those failed subjects.

Yes, this is possibly the worse that he's ever done. Experimenting on children. Most didn't live, and some of them that do, the results aren't pretty. Commander doesn't even deserve a real name.

He then wondered how General Starkey is holding up. General Starkey was ordering the slaughterings, execution of others. Mostly news anchors and such to cover up for the released virus. When Commander first met Starkey, he thought he was a pretty likable man. He was so considerate of others and tried to help them out. He was kind to Commander, even after all those thing Commander had done. Which made it worse when Commander thought about it. Poor Starkey.