En Route to Sydney, Leaving Rutherford

9 May, 2011

22:03—One's Perspective

:-:

Australia-United Kingdom relations are just a strong as ever. But Infinity owns so little of the commonwealth; Tasmania and numerous smaller islands.

The mainland mostly belongs to the church. Thus, traveling to and entering New South Wales requires stealth measures. Luckily, Methuselah units have inbuilt technology that enables such procedures:

At the moment, they're flying via jets installed in their boots, and they've employed a cloaking function to remain undetected. Whether by sound, heat or infrared sensory, no one will be able to track them down… Only the professor, Mr. Black, has the resources needed to keep in touch with his "kiddos".

Looks like we're on the highway to hell once again. But that's nothing new for an old dog like me. Most of my life, that's all I ever did; get into trouble.

…Until *they* caught me…and had me killed.

Ending Theme: Love Is A Battlefield

Artist: Pat Benatar

Ferryman...I *hate* that name.

These people are monsters; the worst. No respect whatsoever… They'll slaughter families just to give their masters something to eat. Sickening!

It's been a few minutes since the Highwaymen were dispatched. En route to New South Wales, unseen, unheard, undetectable, the Methuselah unit is led by One; their more-than-capable leader… His mind seems to have wandered into the past: A dark age, where many unspeakable events befell him in his former life.

Funny how shit flies when you come home. It was just another night; me up to no good, and wouldn't you know it…

—the things I did to help take care of myself. At one point, I was no different from the church: A crook if there ever was one; the bandit of bandits.

But I was just a kid. Still had so much to live for and—BOOM!—right square in the head… Talk about karma. Can't say I didn't deserve it.

"One, are you alright?"

Four addresses her leader, having noticed how troubled he looks. "You seem…tense… Thinking about the good ol' days?"

Two snickers under his breath.

"That's his daily routine. Leave him alone, alright."

"I didn't ask for your input, Two!"

"Simmer down, Jungle Jane."

That was a sharp comment from Two; one that sets Four into a mild rage. "Why you… Watch your mouth, Two! Nobody wants to hear your shit tonight."

Three seems entertained by his teammates' spat. But not enough to say anything, which is quite normal of him: Observant and sarcastic. He does, however, harbor concern for his leader as well. One is...normally…

I'm usually the talkative one; always got something to say. When I'm quiet, my team worries about me in their own little way.

Huh. These cowpokes don't know…ol' One got things together. I've been around the block long enough, so there's nothing to worry about. Just wish they'd trust me a little more… Maybe things wouldn't be so awkward.

—the heart of the Highwaymen. One keeps his team together.

He's the oldest, most experienced Methuselah. Cooperating with him is an honor to any of his peers. Two, Three and Four, despite their dysfunctionality, are kept solid by One's strength of character.

"Two, Four, stop arguing.

Two, I know you see me as a strong leader. Thanks, cowpoke. Your support always helps when this old dog's feeling down.

Four, you're caring and concerned; a real upstanding woman. It's pleasing to know there's good people in this big mold called 'Infinity'.

And Three, stop being messy. I can *feel* you grinnin' back there." Three looks away with foxlike expression, attempting to hide his face. To no avail, unfortunately: Two and Four *know* how sneaky Three can be.

To cover his tracks, the shrewd Three speaks… "A smile is a smile, One. Seeing my teammates' unity incites this.

Where's the harm in that? I wonder."

Despite his efforts, Two isn't easily moved.

"—Nice save, asshole."

"Yeah, *real* nice." Four isn't buying it either. This is a night when the Highwaymen are employed: Carefree, easygoing, and a bit standoffish.

Reminds me of my old posse back in the 1800s. We used to have plenty nights like this: Getting on each others' nerves, but enjoying it; every single moment.

It's been a long time since they were…

—naw, better not think about it. I'll start getting all rude-like with the cowpokes… Don't want them seeing me like that.

"Everyone, listen up: At the rate we're going, we'll be riding into the commonwealth by 23:00 sharp.

Three, you're our stealth; silence all sentinels with your blade.

Two, secure the ventilation systems. The less air a zombie has, the better.

Four, circulate your shock waves through the building. That'll destroy any and all backup security apparatuses.

Me, I'll handle the zombie. I'm the most experienced when it comes to dealing with dead scumbags like him. Plus…

—I've some unfinished business with the son-of-a-bitch. So, stay away from the main office… Things *will* get ugly, I promise you that."

It's pretty damn unfair; having them sort out the small things, while I take on the big boss. Makes me seem like an attention hog, but that's not the case.

Babyface is one *sick* bastard.

He's been playing games with people for centuries… I remember when I first met the zombie; cleared us out in one go. An entire saloon covered in blood… Then, the bastard took my woman and held her for ransom.

I did what has asked me… He didn't keep his promise: She was killed and I went some nights afterwards… I died. But I soon woke up again, and saw Mr. Black's hooded image looking at me from afar… That was *my* new beginning.

His teammates don't have to say a thing. One's so fired up for this mission; his silence confesses quite a bit: He can't *wait* to get his hands on Babyface.

"We've got you covered, One." For the first time, Two speaks supportively.

Three and Four nod agreeably.

Their understanding, their fellowship… "Thanks, cowpokes. That means a lot."

Babyface is among the A-class; an existential master. It's rumored that when the sun is out, Babyface's sync rate skyrockets…and he becomes an S-class nightwalker. Not to mention his existence, Tender Lover, is known for its unpredictability. Anything can happen; the worst should be anticipated.

I'm not holding back. Babyface ruined my life, and then he killed me… He's had it coming for decades now. So I need *all* the room I can get.

Soon as these guns start blazing, no one is safe.

…This is *more* than a mission; this is personal…

Babyface, better watch out. Security won't save you, not this time… So, hold onto your hat, partner…because…no matter what…

—*I'm gonna fill your rotted ass full-a lead, ya sick motherfucker*!

~ To Be Continued ~

When the moon rises,

Stephen, Natalie and Theodore are pit against Dead Motion: Sibling headhunters determined to liberate their tribesmen.

Meanwhile, the Highwaymen give Babyface and his task force a run for their money.

Dawnavan and I will begin training in the morning. But before we wake, a test like no other befalls us in our sleep.

Next time on The BLOOD Saga: NIGHT:

:O:

:O: Given A Chance :O:

:O:

The conquest for unity continues.