Chapter 7
Andrew Joshua Talon, with many thanks to Kanako Urashima
DISCLAIMER: Love Hina is not mine. I'm not making any profit off this fanwork, and the authors used own themselves. "The Love Hina Fan Boy War!" is the property of Kanako Himekazi-Urashima, which she gave me permission a while ago back to write a prequel to.
Therefore…
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The continuation of Lance Waymire's interlude! Enjoy!
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"Okay, I know about Lord Kebinu… But, why this detour into Lance Waymire?" Talon nodded, smiling in fond nostalgia.
"One of my good friends, and the future consort of Shinobu Maehara. He was, and still is, brave, loyal, trustworthy, and overall, great. But…"
"Like everyone else after the Cataclysm, he had to start somewhere," Arney said, smirking slightly. Talon rolled his eyes, despite his own sardonic smile.
"You're learning…"
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Fall 2015
Nothing like the Cataclysm had ever been predicted like this before. Not even the greatest of scientists had known that such a catastrophe could happen and take so many lives with it. It caught every living person totally off-guard.
Most especially to Lance and Travis.
After two days of intense walking, they had managed to leave the city lines of San Diego. From there they managed to make it to Los Angeles, without coming into any trouble with the many gangs that littered the area. They met friendly people along the way, who offered them shelter and food. In Los Angeles they stayed for one full week, until they caught a lift from another citizen who was heading toward Salt Lake City.
Climbing into his truck, the man introduced himself. "Hey guys, my name is Chris." Chris took turns shaking their hands. "I can take you as far as Utah and from there, you might have to find your own way to Colorado Springs."
Lance nodded, and Travis kept a stiff face. Ever since they left from Lance's ruined apartment, Travis had usually kept to himself. Most of the time he was either in deep thought and meditation or he was sleeping and eating. Lance feared that the Travis he knew for his whole life had gone with the many innocents who died.
Of course, this had impacted as much to him as it did to Travis.
After refilling Chris' truck with gas they made their journey north. They rarely stopped for anything, given that the gangs grew more and more vicious the further they got. They would drive during the night, avoiding contact with strangers, and find a spot to hide their truck and catch a few hours of sleep, each taking turns guarding.
They arrived to the California-Nevada border after two days of driving, and there they made a stop at a run-down gas station to fill up the truck.
Lance walked to the shop near the pumps to get some food and drink for the rest of the trip. As soon as he walked in he noticed that everything was off the shelves and barely anything had been left behind. Lance sighed, dodging all the debris that littered the floor, and grabbed all that was left: three two-liter sodas, two bags of Skittles, a bag of chips, and a pack of mints (the ones that come in a metallic container). He pocketed the mints in his shirt pocket, and made for the back room in case there was anything in there.
Just as he did, he heard a loud voice in his head scream "HELP!". Lance turned suddenly, and heard a loud gunshot come from outside. Dropping all he had in his hands he ran out the door and came face-to-face with two men holding pistols. They pointed the pistols at Travis and Lance, their hands shaking. Chris lay on the ground, a puddle of blood beneath him.
"What're you kids doing here, huh?" one man said.
Lance and Travis both raised their hands up, backing away from them. "We're just on our way to Colorado," said Lance, his voice saking, "Just leave and let us go."
"We can't do that, now can we?" said the other guy, "It seems you trespassed onto our turf, and now you'll face the penalty of death!"
He raised his pistol at Lance and pulled the trigger. Lance felt the impact of the bullet and crumbled to the ground. Travis yelled "NO!" and tackled the first guy that was nearest to him. The man dropped his gun as he fell from his weight, and skidded toward Lance's unmoving body. The other man shot at Travis, hitting him in the leg.
At this point you would think that these two teens were done with. But they had something special up their sleeves that backed them up during this fight. Something they never realized they had.
Lance sat up, uninjured and shocked. He felt his hands over his chest where the bullet hit him, but only came across his pack of mints. He took it out of his shirt pocket and found a bullet dented right on it. He wasn't shot or dead after all.
Just luck, he thought.
Angered that Travis had been shot, he grabbed the pistol that had skidded near him and raised it at the man still standing. He never even touched a real gun before, but at this point he didn't really care. He shot him right on the hand, forcing him to drop his gun and step out of the fight. He lowered the gun at the man still sitting on the ground, and fired three shots just inches from him on the ground.
"If you value your friend and your lives, you will leave us alone." he said coldly to him.
The man muttered something incoherent, and stood up. He guided his injured friend into the building and they were never seen again.
Lance dropped the gun and fell to his knees, slightly sobbing. He never wanted to hold that gun, he never wanted to pull the trigger and feel just as those two guys had before they killed Chris and shot Travis. But, for their sake, he had to.
Wiping his eyes he stood and ran to Travis. He was bleeding, but alive. Lance took off his shirt and ripped it into strips, creating one large bandage. He wrapped it around Travis' wound and knotted it up really tight. Travis was concious, but he remained quiet as Lance carried him to the passenger seat of the truck. Lance gave his final respects to Chris, who lay still on the ground, and climbed into the drivers' seat of the truck.
Luckily the truck was an automatic, and Lance had some experience when it came to cars like these. He and his dad used to work on them like it was their pastime.
His dad... his family…
He shoved these thoughts aside, trying not to distract himself. He turned on the steering wheel, turned down the road, and drove off toward Las Vegas, the only populated city close enough to give Travis the medical attention he needed.
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"Lance! NOO!!!"
Travis woke with a start. His eyes were wide and his face trickled with sweat as he looked around him. He saw that he was in some sort of tent, and he was covered with a sleeping bag. Clothes and other items were strewn across the ground, and an empty sleeping bag sat quietly next to him. It was bright outside, meaning that the sun was out and it was daytime.
The 'door' to the tent flapped open, and Lance crawled in, looking very warm and sweating. He caught a glimpse at Travis and smiled. "About time you woke up."
"Where are we?" Travis asked, starting to calm down. "I thought...I thought you were dead."
Lance raised an eyebrow at his friend. "I was never dead. Apparently I just got lucky and the bullet hit a pack of mints I picked up from the station."
"And as for where we are, a settlement just outside Las Vegas."
"Las Vegas?"
Lance nodded, "I took the truck and drove us there. I was-or should I say, we were lucky enough to evade the gangs that were patrolling the border."
"What happened after that?" Travis pressed on.
"Well," Lance continued, taking a seat next to Travis, "After I got us away from the gangs, the tire blew and we were stuck. Luckily there was a friendly settlement just a half-mile off, and a few of them were able to carry you and guide me here."
They both sat there for a long while, silent and deep in thought. Travis was trying to remember the past events since he passed out, and Lance was deep in thought of what to do from here.
"You were lucky I heard that voice," Lance finally said, "Or else you would've died."
"What voice?" Travis asked.
"I heard someone, or something cry 'HELP!' in my head. Tha how I noticed something was wrong."
Something in Travis clicked, and finally he knew. "You mean...you heard my thoughts?"
Lance stared at Travis. "Your what?"
"That's exactly what I was screaming in my head, calling for help over and over."
"Could you be…?" Lance said in a low voice.
"Telepathic? I think so…" Travis finished his sentence. "But what about you? You survived from a pack of mints, from a bullet even."
"Yeah, but I was just lucky I suppose."
"And what about when you took out the other two guys (now that I remember)? And how you said you got away from the other gangs? And even when you found this place? It's either fate, or you've been real lucky yourself." Travis finished his statement, leaving Lance silent.
Had he indeed been lucky all this time? Was this all just a stroke of luck that made them survive? Chris didn't… He was killed. Is he really lucky, or is he a death trap?
He didn't really want to know.
"Anyway, what're we going to do from here?" Lance tried to change the subject.
"I don't know.. I want to go to Colorado Springs as fast as possible." said Travis softly, "Probably just as much as you do. But I don't think I have the energy to go. At least for awhile."
Lance nodded and patted his friends back. "Then we'll stay here for now. Until you fully recover."
Travis nodded. "It's too late to recover...I just can't, after what happened. With these new powers and after the blast… I just can't face it. Not like this."
Lance smiled, sadly. "Me too, Travis. Me too."
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And the saga rolls on…
NEXT TIME: The coming of Kana Himekazi, the Necromancer, heralds the new Age, while down in the land of Dixie, Talon and Mutsumi make some choices…
As usual, the standard applies! Submit your versions of what happened to you or one of the goddesses (try for variety, everyone) at the current time of the story! R&R!