A/N: Dawnie-7! You should know better than to think Shooter's gone for good! I think we can safely say we'll be seeing him again, but I'm not telling you any more than that. Thanks for your lovely reviews, and thanks to Esmeralda Sparrow too.
Chapter Seven: The Bellano Carnival
Technically the Bellano carnival wasn't in Brazil. But the floats on the ceiling were colorful, and the dancing girls were interesting, in a word, to watch. As soon as Clementine entered the hotel the party started, Mort loved the way she had fun, whether she's arranged a party or whether she recruits total strangers in a hotel in Las Vegas. Taking her glass she dragged Mort through the crowds to the upstairs rail to watch the floats. But after a while, she got bored and they went shopping, of course.
"Gucci!" she exclaims as they reach the Gucci store. "Now, Mort, I'm not this shallow, I don't like Gucci, lets try, this store!" and off they go into a music store. Guitars are strung up over the walls, books depicting the teddy boy era, hippies, punks and on and on. Photos of stars, the Beatles, Marylin Manson, Kurt Cobain, Keith Moon in pig muck, what a star. Guitars signed by Black Sabbath, $2000!
"Clementine, is this really what you're interested in?" asks Mort.
"Yes, look at this, and this one, Blondie!" Clementine talks mostly to herself as she wanders round looking at the pictures. "Mort."
"Mort?" asks Mort.
"Yes, look," says Clementine, pointing. Mort looks.
"Simone." They both head out of the store, as quietly as possible, not to attract the attention of the girl, and soon they're lost in the throes watching the scantily clad girls dancing, throwing necklaces of dice and trinkets to the crowd.
"At least she's not been threatening or violent, hopefully she's just the regular stalker, not the psychopathic one," shouts Clementine over the music.
"At least we've lost her for now," says Mort. Clementine starts dancing to the music amid the people watching, not noticing anyone really, other than Mort.
Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted up and pushed over the rail, grabbing at anything she could to stop this person, was it just someone having a laugh, a bit drunk, or with more sinister intent? She called out to Mort who had his back to her, and he turned around, just as she was let go, over the edge.
Dropping her glass her hands flailed about, and caught the edge of the landing where the crowd had gathered, she felt a pull below her left ear, and discovered that a washing line had been tied around her neck. Crying out, tears streaming down her face she tried to get it off, Mort was looking down at her, panic on his face. Someone beside him pulled out a penknife and tried to cut the line, but it was no use, it was wire and all he succeeded in doing was cutting the plastic.
Clementine panicked, if she hadn't caught the ledge her neck would have snapped, it couldn't bear thinking about, she could just see Mort's fingers grappling with the washing line tied around the banister, and all the time the music played.