Chapter 7

Jill Drake

10:45 AM

Was I doing the right thing, joining this guy? He looks like he can handle himself. Of course, he's a vile sexist dinosaur, but that's another story. Beats standing around here, though. And the other guy. Who's he? He hasn't said anything yet. Better not be like his friend.

"So, what's your name?"

"Huh?"

"What's your name?" So the quiet guy was talking to me. First thing I've heard him say.

"Oh, uh, Jill. Jill Drake."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Eric Mercer." He extended his hand.

What a little brown-noser. Probably just wants into my pants.

I shook his hand anyways.

"Nice to meet you too. So who's your friend?"

Eric glanced up the road. The other guy was walking way ahead of us, his gun held across his chest in a "heroic" pose like he was Rambo or something. He seemed to twitch at every single sound, his eyes darting around suspiciously.

"Oh, his name's Jay. He's a cop from...I don't even know. He's a good guy though."

"You've got to be kidding me. He's a cop?" I asked in disbelief.

"So where you from?" Eric asked me, ignoring my question.

"I'm from Bone County. Las Barrancas."

"Ah." He nodded. "The Ravines, right?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Um, yeah, I think so."

"So what are you doing here in Fierro?"

"Well I was at the driving range when they attacked. One of 'em, like, chopped up the guy that was next to me. Turned him right into mincemeat. Sliced him, diced him, marked him with a 'B.' Then he came at me too, but I smacked him off the platform. See?"

I showed him my club, which had a dried spot of blood caked on it.

"Nice. So you just made your way past the zombies, armed only with a golf club?"

"Yep."

"No guns at all?"

"Nada."

"Just that nine-iron there?"

My God, is this guy deaf? How many times have I answered 'yes' to his stupid question already?

"Just this nine-iron here. No guns, no bombs, no fancy fighting moves, just this guy here. Ok?"

Eric shrugged and turned his head the other way, trying to avoid the icy glare that was probably emanating from my eyes.

"If you say so."

He turned his eyes back to the road and called to his friend.

"Hey, Jay! Where are we going?"

"Ammu-Nation, remember?" he answered, not bothering to face us.

"Oh, that's right. Do you know where it is?"

"Um...no." And with that, he stopped dead in his tracks.

I rolled my eyes. Son of a bitch, we had already passed the place.

"It's back in Hashbury. We passed it up, you moron."

This time he turned in our direction.

"Hashbury? You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Oh yeah! Near that mod shop, right? Wheels-Angel-something?"

"Yeah, you got it. I think we should start going the other way, don't you?" I muttered, rolling my eyes again.

And we did. Jay ran ahead of us and lead us on again.

"I'll stay up front. Just in case anything tries to attack us, I'll be ready."

What the hell? What does he think he's doing? If the little bastard is trying to impress me, he's doing a piss-poor job.

"He can be kind of a jerk sometimes, huh?" Eric said to me, grinning.

"Sometimes? He's an asshole!" I exclaimed, lowering my voice. You know what he said to me earlier? He wanted me to "tag along" with you guys. Tag along! As if that's all I'm good for!"

As soon as I had said that, I noticed the expression change in this guy's face at once.

"Whoa, calm down." he said. "What are you talking about?"

Oooh, big mistake. Rule #8 of general male-female conversations: Never tell a woman to calm down. But he seemed genuinely concerned, so I let it go.

"I know. It's my fault anyways. I've just had this...thing against men lately. Especially men with guns."

He laughed.

"Oh, I've gotta hear this one." he said obnoxiously, as if this were all a big joke to him.

"Are you kidding me? Do you even know how to talk to women?"

That got him.

"Oh...uh...shit."

"About a month ago, my sister was murdered. Right in front of me. It was a drive-by shooting. She wasn't the target though, but she was killed anyways. It was a botched hit on those Rollin' Heights Ballas. This Greenwood came screaming up the street, with four men hanging out the windows. One of the Ballas was killed, but it was mostly civilians that were hit. Including this poor kid's dog."

"Oh, man. I'm really sorry. No idea, you know?"

"Multiple gunshot wounds to the chest and torso. She was pronounced dead at the scene."

"Wow. So do you know which one of them killed her, by any chance? Or was it all of them?"

"No. It was all of them, of course. But I recognized one of the shooters from the news. It was that Carl Johnson guy. You've heard of him, right?"

"Oh yeah. Came back from Liberty City after a five-year leave. Because of his mother's death or something?"

"Something along those lines. If I ever get my hands on that fucker, I swear to God..."

I felt so relieved to finally let all this out. In front of someone who seemed to really care. I had totally misjudged Eric. He wasn't the brightest star in the sky, but he was really nice. Maybe I ought to give Jay another chance too.