Connecting his shovel to the back of a walker's head and then slamming his boot into its face, Chuck frowns his brow in concentration as he pokes his head through the dense bushes. All is quiet on the road tonight, save for the occasional pitter-patter of nocturnal animals and a light breeze rustling through the trees. The stars twinkle in the nighttime sky as they surround the full moon with their glow – Chuck always used to joke with his buddies that the moon was made of cheese and beer. Why? He still doesn't remember exactly, but the guy was pretty damn hungry and thirsty at the time, so it probably helped to ease the ache a little bit. Leaves litter the forest floor and quickly build up onto the gravel road since so few cars are driving around anymore, and the occasional dead body brings a rotten smell to the air that assaults their nostrils with their toxic fumes.
All in all, another fine night out for a stroll.
Beckoning him forward, Chuck tiptoes into the middle of the road as Omid wipes some branches and twigs out of his shortened hair. The both of them are moving a little slower due to Omid's injury, but at least they're not stuck in one spot for too long.
"Looks like that's all she wrote," Chuck concludes as he relaxes his arms a little bit. The man has to clutch onto the shovel with both hands since there's no strap for him to tie it around his back, but the old man doesn't really mind too much. It gives him a bit of a workout for the long haul. "You holdin' up alright back there? One of them creepy-crawlies nearly scared the pants off ya, I noticed."
"I wasn't scared, man! I was startled – there's a difference," he points out with a bit more spring in his step than a few hours ago. The injury is still intense, but the man's not going to let that damper his spirits any longer. Chuck's shown him a purpose; a reason for going on each day. "Anyways, enough about my pants. Are we getting closer at least? My shoulder's not gonna be able to take much more stress… neither is my back… or my legs… my arms…"
"Boy, anyone ever told ya that you sound like a whining hippopotamus?"
Finding that more amusing than he ever thought he would, Omid chuckles as he shakes his head as he tries to pick up the pace a little bit. They're going to need to move quickly in order to find their way back to the dairy, and at night they'll be less likely to get spotted by bandits. "Can't say that I've heard that one, no!"
"Well, now you – "
"Wait a minute, hold up," Omid pauses the duo, holding a hand in the air as he sniffs the air for a quick second. "You smell that?" he questions, looking up at the horizon to get a better glimpse of whatever that might be.
Picking up the trail as well, Chuck nods as he grips the shovel a little bit more firmly. "Fire," he surmises with a knowing expression as they keep walking towards it. "But that ain't no regular bonfire, that's for sure. Way too strong for that sort of thing."
It's difficult to see in the dark, but once Omid spots the huge column of smoke rising up in the distance, he widens his eyes in acknowledgement.
That's coming from the dairy – it has to be. And where there's the dairy, there has also got to be…
"Come on!" he ushers, suddenly feeling a lot more energetic than he had before. Desperation can make a person achieve some crazy things; can make them go past their perceived physical limitations and push them to go that extra mile. Right now, Omid feels like he could run an entire marathon by himself.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Chuck spots a pair of men sprinting towards them with their tails between their legs – one of them doesn't have a shirt on for whatever reason, but the homeless man can almost instantly recognize that they're not the friendly sort. He could probably spot bandits from a mile away at this point.
Before he can even warn his new friend, the bandits are already upon them… but they're not too concerned with trying to shoot or jack their stuff. No, instead they simply keep their eyes on the road in front of them and just sprint right past Omid and Chuck. No goodbyes or anything.
"…the fuck?" Omid quietly wonders aloud, torn away from his thoughts as he's reminded of the situation at hand. There's no point in worrying about assholes who he couldn't really give two shits about anyways.
It's not until a truck with bright headlights starts coming up behind them that Omid starts to become a little bit concerned.
"You fuckers gonna get in, or what?" asks the guy from the passenger seat as Lilly rolls down her window and beckons them inside.
Well, it can't get much weirder than this now, can it?
"CARLEY!"
Lee's bellow of warning barely even registered in Carley's ears when she first stepped through the front door, but now she kind of wishes that she had listened. With red and orange, white-hot flames already starting to engulf the walls, furniture and more, the situation looks pretty dire.
Who would've thought that the actual reporter would be the one going into the flames? She can be a news story all on her own!
Trying to keep low enough as to not get totally eviscerated, sweat already starts to form on her forehead as she tries to make her way to the stairs. The wooden support beams above her head are already starting to creak and crackle intensely, which means that Carley really doesn't have a whole lot of time to spare. One wrong move and it could be game over – for her and for Mark.
She's not even really sure what possessed her to try this suicide mission in the first place. As soon as she asked about the guy and his whereabouts, Carley didn't even hesitate for a second before sprinting inside and trying to come to his aid. Did she really care for the man that much? Was he really that important to her and the group that she'd be willing to risk her own life for Mark's slim chance at survival?
Or was it just for the opportunity to do the saving for a change instead of being rescued? Maybe the thrill of reversing the roles was just an opportunity too sweet to miss out on.
Whatever the case may have been, Carley can't turn tail and run back out now; not after already having committed to this. She doesn't want to look like a huge coward in front of all of her friends outside.
"Cough-cough… MARK?!" she chokes out as she reaches the stairs while trying to avoid the large amount of sparks clambering around her feet from the blaze. "IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, SHOUT!"
Worried that she may have come too late, Carley's muscles just work that much harder as blood pumps through her system at an ever-increasing rate. The upstairs portion of the house isn't faring much better than the lower half, as the wallpaper is literally melting off the walls as all of the smoke has started billowing up near the ceiling. Hot air rises, and all that science stuff that Doug had started explaining to her back when she first met him.
She already lost one good friend, and she'll be damned if she loses another one today.
Pounding her fist against the door, Carley hears a muffled groan coming from inside Mark's room as her eyes widen in hope. Maybe she can actually do this! Maybe she can be the hero this time around!
She goes to grasp the metal door handle but yanks her hand back quickly when she realizes that that'd be a stupid idea. Burning her palm is definitely not on her to-do list right now, so instead she tries to muster up her strength and body check the door from her side.
"Come on… come on, damn it…" she repeats to herself as she puts her back into it; slamming her shoulder into the wooden door several times until she finally breaks through.
And thank god that Mark had managed to crawl out of the bed – a part of it has already been set ablaze as the linen sheets go up in flames. The last of the morphine packs start to get destroyed as the inside of the pack steams up and the drug starts boiling like a pot of mac n' cheese. Whatever pain the man may still have, he's going to have to put up with until his body can fully recover again.
Speaking of which…
"Urgh… Mark? Come on, man… up and at 'em! You're gonna be alright…" she grunts, bending down and rolling him onto his back. The man looks groggy at best, but he at least manages to open his eyes and see who it is that's come to save him.
"C-Car…"
"Shh, shh… it's alright, I've got you…" she murmurs, pulling him to a sitting position as she beckons for him to stand. "We're gonna get out of here right now, got that? But we need to help each other!" she exclaims, realizing that there's no way in hell that she'll be able to carry the man on her own. Mark would almost be dead weight if she tried to do that, and it'd inadvertently cause the both of them to meet a fiery grave.
Seeming to realize the situation they're in when he gazes around the room in surprise, almost as if he's just noticing now that the St. John home is on fire, Mark tiredly nods; having used up a bunch of his energy when saving Lee's life earlier. With a whole lot of effort, he manages to get his legs working again as he wraps an arm around Carley's shoulders and uses her body as a sort of crutch.
"Urrrggghhhh…" he groans painfully, having forgotten about the wound that's still very much present in his chest cavity. Carley unfortunately can't worry about whether or not this is too damaging at the moment, instead focused on getting them both out of here alive.
Pressing onwards, Carley practically drags the bespectacled man forwards as the heat starts to get really overbearing. They're definitely in the eye of the furnace now, and it won't be very much longer until this place starts collapsing from the inside out.
Pointing through the smoke towards the staircase, Carley has to shut her eyes closed as she tries to keep them on a straight path. There's no telling what's really in front of them as they stumble onwards; completely unaware that the door to Mark's room has started to catch fire behind them. Seems that she got to him just in time.
"Come on! We can make it!" Carley screeches, having to yell over the corroding sounds surrounding them. Once they reach the top of the staircase, her confidence really starts to increase. This could be it! They might be able to get out of here with everything still intact, and with their friends awaiting them outside with blankets and open arms! "Just… a little… further…" she urges, pushing them down the stairs as the floorboards protest underneath their combined weight.
It's not until they get to the bottom of the staircase that Carley's life truly is laid on the line.
Seemingly out of nowhere, a wooden support beam gets unattached from the ceiling as it swings down and knocks her off her feet; causing her to roughly land beside a burning chair as the side of her face gets far too close to the flames. She screams in intense pain as the burning sensation shocks her nerves to convulsion and the smell of burning skin makes her absolutely sick to her stomach.
Knowing that a large part of her face is being melted away like a wax figurine, Carley rolls around on the floor as she tries to prevent it from spreading. The bottom part of her eyeball has already started to get ruined as Mark stifles up the pain and pats down on her head with his sleeve; fanning the flames away until it finally dissipates.
He can't help but cringe uncontrollably when he sees what's happened to her – all because of trying to rescue him.
A large chunk of skin on her cheek has been torched, including part of her hair, her lower jaw and some of her ear. Deep, red gash marks now line her facial features and paints a new picture that'll likely never fully heal, as Carley lays there on the floor; gasping for air as she tries to not allow the excruciating pain to overwhelm her.
"…we… we're almost…" Mark points forwards, offering out a shaky hand to his dear friend as she shakily accepts the offer. As a team, the duo struggles to make their way forwards to the exit, but somehow they both come out of the building – definitely not unscathed, but alive nonetheless.
Katjaa and Christa come sprinting over to them as they're both helped to stand on their own two feet, but both women realize that the damage done here has been almost permanent.
"QUICKLY! CLEAR A SPACE IN THE BARN!" Christa yells as Kenny and Lee immediately hold the doors for them, with the kids sprinting inside with intense amounts of fear. Danny is still too pissed off to tear his eyes off of their childhood home, but Andy shoves his shoulder roughly as they too follow suit.
Right now, there are more important things to attend to.
Finding it to be far too crowded in there right now for her liking, Christa lingers outside about half an hour later; finding it hard to ignore the incessant ramblings of the St. John boys as they loiter about the charred remains of their once-pristine home. Now it's nothing more than a crumbled ruin with little evidence of it ever being here in the first place.
"Everything's gone… they ruined our lives here…" Danny snarls as more and more of the group start coming outside as well. The only one besides Carley and Mark who remains inside is Katjaa, now being the only person in the group with at least a tiny inkling of how to treat wounds. Being a veterinarian beforehand, the woman at least knows the basics of it.
"Any improvement?" Christa asks, feeling worried for her friend as Lee breathes deeply through his nose.
"It's hard to say right now…" he sadly admits with a frown. "Carley's stable, and she can talk and function properly for the most part. She might look a little… well, a lot different with all of the scarring… but she should be able to shake that off eventually. It's just going to take some time, is all. But god damn, what a mess…"
Nodding silently as they watch Kenny bending down to talk to Clem and Duck, Christa can't help but feel a little bad for what she had told the guy earlier. She didn't mean to threaten him like that, after all, it sounds as though Omid didn't really give him much of a chance other than to run. But as soon as she found out that he was missing and had gone off somewhere, she just completely lost it. Everything else seemed to just clutter that was getting in the way, and it was pissing her off.
Maybe the guy's not all bad – a little too overbearing for most, sure, but it's clear that Kenny cares enough his family that Christa can find it pretty easy to relate. She's seen what losing someone that you really care about can do to you.
All of those doubts, worries and fears almost immediately get replaced with intense relief as she sees a truck pulling up in the driveway; with a smirking Omid stepping out of the back.
"Oh my god…" she murmurs hoarsely, wrapping her arms tightly round his neck as she kisses him like there's no tomorrow. "We all thought you were a goner… I thought you were dead out there, when you didn't come back…"
Clutching onto his girlfriend's hand tightly, Omid turns around with a big, goofy grin on his face. "If it weren't for him," he gestures over to Chuck, who introduces himself with a curt nod, "I probably would be."
As the three of them exchange pleasantries, Nate and Russell slowly and cautiously step out of the truck; with the former gritting his teeth in annoyance as he sees the place burned to crisps. Russell shuts the engine off as he holds his hands up in surrender, but Nate smacks him in the back of the head as he rolls his eyes.
"Hey lady! Where's the grub at?" Nate demands, seeing nothing but a group of sorrow-filled whiners instead of the strong, resilient bunch that they were told about. They barely pay them any mind, except for Clementine who's shyly wandered up near Lilly's leg, and Lee who simply gives her a solemn wave. "I'm talking to you, baby cakes! You said that there'd be loads of shit for us to sink our teeth into! I don't know if you were just trying to be funny or something, but literal cow manure isn't what Russ and I had in mind! You owe us for the lift!"
Ignoring his snide remarks for a brief moment, Lilly grins slightly as she bends down to ask if Clementine is alright. When she sees that nothing's broken or out of place with her specifically, but hears that something bad just happened to Carley, the woman feels pretty concerned. How much did she miss out on in such a short period of time?
Upon hearing Nate's obnoxious voice ringing in her ears, Lilly rolls her eyes and glares sharply at the man in the blue ball cap. "And how the hell was I supposed to know that this place would be burned to the ground, huh? I just got here!" she retorts in frustration, knowing that a shouting match wouldn't be very appropriate in this delicate situation right now. "Our people are suffering out here! So just gimme a minute to think this crap through, alright?!"
"This is fucking pathetic…"
"Come on, Nate… take it easy! At least we're finally with a group this time," Russell points out, but to no avail as the hot-headed man shakes his head in disagreement.
"Don't tell me to calm down, Russ! We got short-fucking-shafted yet again!" he says with a clenched fist, noticing that Kenny is already on his way towards him. "We should've just kept on driving to that gas station instead of making our way to that base! We'd be better off without this broad on our asses all the way here…"
Not surprisingly, Lilly doesn't take too kindly to that, but is shocked when Kenny steps in to try and figure out just what the hell is going on right now.
Trying to act all intimidating and such as Duck watches the exchange with Clementine standing beside him, Kenny narrows his gaze as he raises and eyebrow over at Ms. Caul. "These people your new buddies or somethin'?"
"Tch… hardly."
Sticking his nose all up in Nate's business, the fisherman glares a hole into him as he prepares to lay down the law.
"Look, I don't know what your deal is, but you being here is already causing nothin' but problems! What an awesome first impression you've made, huh?" he prods, holding his ground as Nate chuckles with all the attention he's getting now. It seems that everyone but Andy and Danny are watching their exchange. "Something funny there, asshole? Because no one else is laughing!"
"Oh man… this is rich! This is really fucking rich!" Nate smirks, patting a hand on Kenny's shoulder that he immediately shrugs off. "You folks must be the most unorganized screw-ups that I ever did see! No food, no water, no supplies… you might as well tie the nooses around your necks and hang yourselves up on that tree right now! It'd definitely be quicker than the death sentence that you've dished out to yourselves," he remarks off-handedly, motioning for his smaller companion to join him back in the truck. "Let's head out, Russell. There's an open road out there with our name on it. No sense sticking around a bunch of walking meat sacks like these. Hop in! I'll even let you go through my love collection on the way to the gas station! My treat!"
When the passenger door doesn't open, and the young man continues to stand outside with the rest of the group, Nate starts to get a little discouraged. How many times does he have to say this – first impressions are everything! And this one definitely blew it in his book!
"Russell, I'm only gonna tell you this once," he says with an annoyed look; pointing to the seat with the keys, "get in here – we're leaving. Right now."
"This is our shot, Nate. Right here – I'm not sitting alone in that car with you anymore, not when we've got a chance like this," Russell reasons as he makes up his mind. Nate doesn't take too kindly to that, but he can't find it within himself right now to just take off on his own. Even if it's not someone that he could make out with in the back seat (and would likely smack him right across the face), he doesn't want to end up having to talk to himself all over again.
The dead can't exactly talk to you, now can they?
"Don't do this to me, man! Don't do this shit! You're my bro, my main n – I mean, you're my boy!" he corrects himself before he ends up saying something totally stupid. But as Russell continues to hold his ground while the rest of the group congregates around the burnt-down house, Nate elicits a frustrated groan from the back of his throat as he slams his fist on the steering wheel. This definitely isn't working out the way he'd hoped.
Meanwhile, over with the St. John brothers, the both of them start to realize that their time at this dairy is quickly coming to an end. They can't stay here, not anymore. There's not enough of the house left to rebuild even if they had the know-how to do so.
Even all of the pictures, trophies and little family knick-knacks have been eradicated from existence. Falling to the seat of his pants, Andy glances on in complete despair when he realizes that Brenda's body has been inadvertently cremated nearby.
"This was our Daddy's life… Momma's too," he whispers out so that only Lee can hear. "She… she raised us both here…"
Supplementing his grief with intense amounts of anger, Danny clenches his fists as he kicks what used to be a part of their mailbox off to the side. "Them bastards have gone too far!" he remarks as the charred smell lingers in the air. "I ain't gonna stand for this shit! Not today! Where are these assholes hidin'?!"
All of them know where the bandits are taking up shelter, and it pisses a bunch of them off knowing that they took the one home that they actually had left. According to Omid, the place has been completely ransacked almost to the point of it being inhospitable, so trying to set back up there might be a bit difficult. As much as they'd all like to just find a nice, quiet spot to rest their tired legs and have a defensible position to combat the outside world, they know deep in their hearts that that place isn't here.
They need to push onwards, and that little truck isn't going to cut it.
"They're deep in a hole right now – they're weakened and walking away while licking their wounds," Kenny states his opinion, capturing the attention of his fellow survivors as they start to clue in to what he may be suggesting. "And… thanks… to these three," he gestures mainly to Lilly, but also Russell and Nate as he begrudgingly accepts that they helped out, "we've got a hell of a lot more firepower at our disposal. This is the time to hit 'em hard – unless you'd rather sleep out in the barn or in a burned-down house?"
Although he's not a big fan of going into combat so soon after all of this mess, Lee concedes as he sighs heavily and runs a hand against the back of his head.
"We don't have a lot of options here, guys. Kenny's probably right," he admits, chuckling slightly when Kenny nods in slight approval. "But we need to be extremely careful with this. We've seen what these people are capable of doing, which means that we need to come up with a plan of attack. A sneakier one this time would be preferable, if we could."
"…are you leaving again?"
Knowing that Clementine would be a bit hesitant with this to say the least, Lee smiles sadly before bending down and taking one of her tiny hands in his much larger one. "We're gonna get back what was taken from us, sweet pea. These are very bad people that we're dealing with, you hear me? We can't let them take away our RV. Don't worry," he adds with a reassuring smile, "I would never put you in danger."
Frowning in disagreement at that, Lilly folds her arms across her chest as she rolls a pebble back and forth with her boot. "Don't make promises you know you can't keep, Lee…"
"I can, and I will," he bites back, startling the woman for a second with how fiercely he has placed that sentiment within himself. Sure, it's probably not what Clem needs to hear right now, but it's better than to keep feeding her false hope about the possibility of him always being around to support and look after her…
Knowing better than to push Lee when he gets like this, Lilly stares at the ground until his gaze becomes fixed somewhere else.
"Alright then…" Kenny remarks, caught in a bit of an awkward pause as he clears his throat. "Let's plan this out – we need to get everyone onto that RV, and we need to do it quietly. So how are we gonna play this?"
"…I've got an idea…" Carley suddenly states, looking as though she's halfway to becoming a walker herself as Katjaa comes up behind while trying to support Mark. This woman's tough as nails. "But… we're going to need a… a distraction…"
Getting a mischievous glint in her eyes, Lilly turns around to the blue-capped man as everyone else starts to do the same. Upon noticing everyone's gazes on him, Nate actually agrees – something that actually startles a bunch of the group as he rubs his hands together merrily.
"Finally giving me some action, eh? This'll be a hell of a lot more fun than just sitting around here listening to this snore-fest," he grins as he wraps an arm around Russell's shoulders. "We'll both do it, on the condition that we get first dibs on the next round of supplies that we see. No bullshit excuses – what's yours is mine. You ready, Russ?"
"Why the hell do I always get stuck with the whack jobs…"
It's early morning as the sun slowly starts to wake up and peak its bright head up over the treeline. The birds slowly start to sing their tunes as they fly out of their nests looking to feed, and those peaceful alarm clocks wake up Roger Williams, who's been asleep up on top of the RV for the past… fuck it, even he doesn't know how long he's been out. The guy's had to keep his eyes peeled all night long, and the opportunities for sleep have been few and far between.
With all of the shit going on yesterday, they'd all be hard pressed to not want to just sit back and shut their eyes for however long they can grab their winks for. Chasing down ass wipes and burning their camp down has taken a lot out of Roger and the rest of his fellow troop.
Upon noticing Harris stepping out of one of the trashed motel rooms, filled now with nothing but trash, booze and an assortment of other paraphernalia, Roger straightens up and pretends that he hasn't been dozing off at all.
"Cut the crap, Rog – I could see you through the fucking window," Harris yawns as he stretches his arms out. "Ugh, whatever. It's not as if we've gotten any company yet anyways," he comments, noting how paranoid everyone was being last night about a possible counterattack of some kind. What a joke that was! "I'm running out to take a leak – don't wait up for me."
"Wouldn't even if I had to…" he murmurs as Harris pushes the dumpsters aside and steps out beyond the barrier; unzipping his trousers and relieving himself on the makeshift wall. The guy couldn't eve be bothered to take five more steps out to the trees to do his business, simply because he's been shitting his pants so much since yesterday.
Harris won't ever admit this of course, but Roger can tell. The guy's all about reading what other people are thinking.
As he shuffles his body around, having to do so since he's practically implanted himself into the chair, Roger stiffens a little bit when he notices two men slowly approaching the gate. One's a Caucasian, trucker-looking dude with a brown sweater and a baseball hat, while the other's a younger-looking, African American fella with a striped sweater and blue jeans. Neither of them look heavily armed, but Roger is still springing to his feet in a second.
"DON'T FUCKING MOVE, ASSHOLES!" he roars, having to aim his pistol towards the pair since he no longer has a rifle. Upon hearing this, the rest of his posse start pouring out like a colony of ants towards the intruders, even though their numbers are now severely diminished.
Internally smirking as the distraction already seems to be doing them some justice, Nate encourages Russell to hold his hands up as he does the same. "We come in peace! E.T. phone home, and all that!" he jokes as he nods over at Harris. "Mind putting your dick away, man? We haven't even reached second base yet, and you're standing over there looking to jump me! That's not exactly how it works there, friend!"
As the bandit curses under his breath and zips up his fly, the rest of them start to move towards the gate; none of them the wiser as everyone besides Clementine, Duck, Chuck, Mark and Carley start crawling through an exposed opening in the fence. They've done a really shoddy job with regards to keeping the repairs up to date on this place, but right now they're considering that a blessing. As far as Kenny's concerned, this place is nothing more than a washed-up shell of what it once seemed to be, and although Lilly believes that with a little TLC this place could be a liveable solution again, they just can't take the risk right now. The walkers are one thing, but random scavengers and bandits are a completely different story.
Katjaa's not exactly that comfortable around guns, and she's made her opinion on them known before, but desperate times sometimes call for desperate measures. Besides, if all goes according to plan, then she probably won't even need to use one at all.
Of course though, in typical fashion, their plan starts to go to shit almost immediately.
With his wounded shoulder, Omid has a very difficult time keeping his mouth shut as he accidentally bangs it painfully on the chain-link fence; creating a clanging sound that attracts the attention of the man on top of the RV. Luckily they're covered by the far wall so he can't get a clear angle on them, but their luck doesn't exactly last that long as Roger decides to go check out the problem for himself.
"Sorry to have bothered you on such a… umm, nice and sunny day," Russell continues the charade, with Nate nearly smacking himself in the forehead at how cheesy and forced that just sounded, "but we were just passing by, and were wondering if you could possibly have any food left to spare? We're awfully hungry out here, and it's a tough road for just the two of us…"
"How's about I give you a face-full of my fist instead?! I've got plenty o' that to spare!" Harris chuckles sinisterly, pushing Russell in the chest as Nate comes to his defense and wraps a dangerous arm around the bandit's neck.
The entire base goes on alert as Russell darts behind a tree while Nate holds a gun dangerously close to Harris' throat.
"Nobody touches my main brother! NOBODY!" he yells into the man's ear as his grip gets even tighter. Pointing at three bandits with his head, Nate orders them to drop their weapons and keep their hands held high. "Now wave 'em like you just don't care, fellas! That's it, work dat ass! We wouldn't want something nasty to happen to your pal here now, would we?" he continues to stall them as Roger, meanwhile, gets closer to his investigation.
When he notices a shadow on the ground that's wrapping around the side of the wall, he begins to get more and more suspicious. What the hell is going on around here? And who could possibly be dumb enough to –
Getting roughly smacked in the face by the butt-end of Lee's new assault rifle, courtesy of Lilly, he aims it at Roger as the bandit's face contorts to pure horror.
"Try it, I dare you," Lee taunts as not one, but seven people stand menacingly in front of him, with four more creeping behind the fence as most of them aim various assortments of weapons straight at his head. The plan is coming to fruition.
"What'cha gonna do, boys?! What'cha gonna do?!" Nate continues to torment them, nearly having a laughing fit as he forces three of the bandits to start doing the hula dance. Never in a billion years did he expect that to actually work, and yet here it is. "Come on, gents! I know you can move it faster than that! Your boy's life is on the line! So come on, show some love for old, Uncle Nate!"
"Grr… fuck this! Shoot the bastard!" one of the bandits yell, but before they even get a chance to do so, but is interrupted by a loud gunshot coming from across the parking lot.
Roger is left bloody on the ground; a bullet in his brain courtesy of Danny St. John.
"Well, seems my work here is done," Nate replies a little too calmly; executing Harris by shooting the man right in the jugular and leaving his body to turn. The guy barely escapes with his life as he darts through the trees and sprints with Russell back to the truck, as Carley, Clem, Duck, Chuck and Mark all slowly file into the back. The kids are placed in the back seat while the adults sit in the hatch as Nate starts the gas and slams on the pedal.
But the bandits aren't as concerned about them right now. No, they're much more occupied with the absolute frenzy that is taking place within the motor-inn.
"EVERYONE INSIDE! QUICKLY!" Lee bellows as he takes out the legs of one of the bandits. Christa and Omid are the first to step into the RV, and then Kat as she just barely avoids a blow to the head. Lee gets skinned by a bullet as it goes whizzing past and into the window behind him, but luckily Danny manages to kill the stranger before he can do any real damage.
With blood staining the concrete and bodies starting to pile up, the Travelier motel is starting to look more like a death camp than anything else.
"Shit!" Lilly curses as her rifle runs out of ammo. She's got some more rounds buried in her pocket, but there's no time for her to do so as she practically shoves Lee inside the vehicle. Andy clambers in next, bellowing for his brother to move his ass inside as Kenny quickly piles into the driver's seat. "Fucking hell, Kenny! We've gotta move!"
"You don't think I see that?!" he roars back at Lilly as the doors are shut and he tries his best to start the engine. "Son of a bitch… start you piece of…!" he cuts himself off upon noticing that Danny, fueled with nothing but vengeance as he continues to try and kill every last one of the bandits who ruined his life, has been heavily shot through both kneecaps and more in his shins.
He knows that the guy's fucked either way, but Andy doesn't seem to notice that his brother's not in the RV just yet. If he puts Danny down, then undoubtedly the St. John boy will realize who it was that did it.
But would it be more of a mercy just to end it now, rather than allow the bandits to kill him?
"Ken, what are you waiting for?!" Katjaa questions in worry for their son, who's likely already gotten down the road with that Nate asshole and the rest of their group.
Rolling down the window, Kenny bites his lip and stares at Danny as time seems to go to a stand-still.
What will he do?
[A] Leave Danny
[B] Kill Danny
AN: Please make your choice in the reviews, and keep being awesome! Thanks for reading!