Author's Note: To answer VeeAmAy, this does take place about 6 months before Milligan is taken. In fact, that will come into play...:) Oh, and by the way, "Can" is like "Aluminum can", not "Can I", when the Ten Men say it to Rick. It's a funnier way to say "SHUT THE FRAK UP!" Also, Milligan uses a real gun, but not after an event coming soon...
OoOoOoOoOoO
Milligan walked through the lot. Every step he took made him more and more sure of the location. This was definitely it.
I was running, he thought. Through the tunnel under the ground. I saw the light, no matter how cliche that sounds. I ran towards it, and found myself on Sycamore. He positioned himself towards Sycamore. Because of the position of the moon, I could have come from only two directions. He turned. North, or east. He jogged to the north option. A rough patch of grass covered a sad little mound of dirt. He got down on hands and knees, and buried his hands in the sun-warmed dirt. He brushed aside a worm and a beetle, and felt the rusted metal of a handle. Yes. He yanked on it, disrupting the dry earth. He coughed, and waved a hand in front of his face to clear the air. He was just about to put a foor in, when he heard the sound of a car pulling up.
"HEY!" Milligan whipped around. A sleek, black car pulled around to the gate. Three men exited. Milligan realized, with a start, that the bald man was with them. A batty looking man accompanied him, as well as an anxious looking twenty-something year old in a obnoxiously yellow hard hat, and a layer of dirt.
"You! Garrotte! Take Left! I'll take right!" Hard Hat raised a hand. "Crawlings, sir? What should I do?" Crawlings raised his eyebrow, and scoffed.
"Can it Rick." Rick nodded, head hung, looking like a dog with it's tail between it's legs.
Milligan dove behind the mound, pulling his gun from his belt. He scrambled with the safety, hearing the click! He peeked around the corner, but pulled back when the dirt around him exploded with a zing!
As the shock-watches retracted, Milligan siezed the opportunity to take care of Garrotte. He spun, and slammed the butt of his gun into the surprised man rounding the corner, and clapped his hand over his mouth.
One...Two...Three... Garrotte's eyes rolled back into his head, and Milligan let the unconscious man fall to the ground. A memory flashed through his mind. 100...102...104...106...108.
"You're a lousy father," Milligan shook his head. No, none of that. Not now.
He was interrupted by a crunch to his unguarded side. His hand flew to his pistol, and he fired.
A yelp of pain erupted from the other side of the mound. But it wasn't Crawlings. No, it was too young. Milligan rushed to the edge.
Lying on the floor was a yellow hard hat. And lying next to that, was Rick, red cascading out of his shoulder.
A/N Sorry for the grim cliff-hanger. Poor Rick...