A/N: The title is in reference to a song by Lord Huron.
Hey, big goon. I'm so sorry about Braxton...I don't know how to properly express how much regret I have for all of it. You were...you were right. But I guess none of that matters now, huh? I don't know if we matter... I hate to put that on you. I can't imagine what it must have been like, in the end. Whatever you're thinking, or feeling, reading this, just know...
There was a blot of ink, as though she had been poised over her next set of words for a long period of time.
...you made me so very happy. And you were more than enough. If you want to meet up, (for drinks?) maybe tell me a bad joke or two, sometime, I'll be in Boston. I know you'll find me.
The damn near choice of careful wording from her was almost as heartbreaking as her reluctance to spell out I love you. She really must have believed that he had moved on, maybe even forgotten about her.
For drinks?
The letter was folded, and held to his mouth as he closed his eyes. Did she honestly think, even after a mere decade, that he would be content with just buying her a round and then slapping her on the back with a hey, it was good to see you again!
His original self was fucking off somewhere far up north; in all of the time he had spent as a silent warden to her eternal sleep, that fuck had never stepped foot inside the city. Evelyn was right. He was a big fucking baby, and if that prick of himself had just sucked it up and actually visited, actually looked for a sign of her body...how interesting those events would have played out. At least damn Charon had put some fucking perspective on his yearly calendar; he had to give it to the big bastard, for at least he was consistent...even though he, too, refused to dig around. Charon had just sat and drank enough to make him feel better about his alcoholic tendencies.
Liam's voice spoke affirmatively inside his brain; a prewired code.
Bring her back to me. That is your only purpose.
The sound of her shuffling around made him crack an eye open. She was peering through his binoculars at the wasted landscape for any sign of a threat. He snorted loudly, tucking her letter safely inside his fleeced jacket. It was sure to be reread a hundred times during this trip.
"What the fuck you closin' one eye for?"
She removed the binoculars, sticking a tongue out as he stood from his seat on an old stump. "To see better, duh."
"To, what?" He took his gear back. "That ain't how that works...no wonder you don't see shit."
A gasp. "How rude! I see perfectly fine, thank you very much."
"Oh yeah?" Cross gave his own survey, and then handed them back to her with a point of his gloved finger. "Fuck's that, up on that hill? By that clusterfuck of trees?"
She huffed, blinking one eye as she searched the designated area. "A shack?"
"That all?"
"Yes," she said curtly.
A shake of his head. "Open both fuckin' eyes, let 'em focus for a sec, and then tell me what you see."
She stamped her foot but did as was told, and an entirely new picture was before her. Beside the shack was a glint- a sniper was waiting in spot, thankfully too far for them to be in range. Meekly, she lowered the binoculars to her chest. "...oh."
"Yeah, oh." He repacked his equipment.
Evelyn crossed her arms, haughtily turning from his judgmental stare. "Well, whatever."
"Like, whatever!" the merc repeated in a high-pitched rasp. It earned a full-bellied laugh, and he grinned, reaching his hands around to unzip her suit for another sporadic round of sex. Only after they finished did he leave her bent over a railing, her suit bundled to the ground and semen beginning to trickle down her legs with her ass parked in the open air. He tucked himself away and noted, "Might want to clean up and get dressed- forgot to tell ya that sniper had binoculars too."
The indignant uproar that comment earned him only made him grin. She once again gathered her bag and stormed off, thankfully in the right direction this time. She had asked no more questions since The Cascades...and he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps she was afraid of pressing too much. When she would look at him, thinking he didn't notice, she would break out in the widest of smiles- she was just so stupidly happy, having him there beside her. It was as though the rest of the world didn't matter, as though Braxton had never happened...just the two of them, wandering the wastes like some fools living on love.
To be fair, he was trying his damn hardest to make up for those wasted years just waiting for her when he had conjured every fantasy his brain could think of to keep him company. They barely made any progress; he would simply pick her up, set her to sit where she would be face level, and he would plant his hands on either side of her waist, exchanging long, drawn-out kisses till something happened to interrupt.
They didn't speak of where either was going. She simply meandered along behind him as he led them on her already predestined route. He had nearly three weeks with her until they reached Port Stein...until they stepped on that ferry with no chance of turning back. The thought of defying orders wasn't an option- his mind was not his own. All he knew was that he had a woman he loved, and that his feet carried him to a place where he had this ominous gut feeling.
Their day together soon drew to a close. She curiously inspected a garage (for how quickly he had forgotten she loved to fucking poke her nose into everything) that they would take shelter in for the night. An old power armor station was shoved into the corner amongst the rusted tools and oil cans. A pink, slimy fluid dripped from an actuator, resembling a candy sauce some Dandy Boy Apples were coated in. The tips of her fingers lightly grazed over the substance, and she beheld it with an inquisitive nature.
The finger went inside her mouth.
"What the fuck." The merc grabbed her wrist, yanking her taste test from between her lips. "What in the goddamn is wrong with you?!"
She harshly squinted her eyes, a visible shiver running up her spine. "Whoa. It's hydraulic fluid- bleh!"
"Yeah, I can see that." Cross shook his head as he released her, and he failed to notice her wiping the remnants of saliva on the back of his coat. "Ya fuckin' goblin."
"Not the worst thing I've swallowed," she said matter-of-factly, and he just gave a half-turn to her. "You taste awful."
His eyes swiveled back and forth as his face contorted into momentary confusion. "...what?"
"Like...thick, hot chalk or something." She shuddered.
His head tilted to the side in thought, and the light bulb visibly lit. "Are you really comparin' my-"
"I swear, sometimes I consider having a shot of something just so I can chase it down." She raked her fingers down her face in distress. "Like when you were eating nothing but those Salisbury Steaks for those few days- ugh-" She juddered and walked past. The merc was just rubbing the back of his neck, visibly perplexed as she continued to ramble, "-you know, next time, I'm going to make you kiss me, just so you know."
Now, he appeared alarmed. "No the fuck you ain't."
"Fine." She turned and appraised him. "I guess you don't need to kiss me again at all."
Cross growled, "How the fuck did you go from lickin' random shit to this?"
A shrug, and she pirouetted on her toes and floated away. They set to their old routine: he would build a fire and set up their stuff, and she would wander around at a safe distance to loot what supplies she could find. The merc took notice of her lack of sweets when she returned; he had found a carton of snack cakes in the other room.
The box was waggled at her. "I know ya want one," he said teasingly.
"Fuck you."
"I mean, we can do that too."
"Fuck off."
"...can I finish on your tits?"
She glowered and wormed inside her bag with a sulk of her shoulders, drawing the strings closed over her face.
"Kind of cold night, don't ya think?" He tossed another piece of wood into the flames. A raindrop leaked from the roof, sizzling in the fire. "Hands are feelin' kind of numb."
There was no reply as she remained still in her sleeping roll. He scratched at his jawline while the gears slowly grinded around in his brain.
"Ya hear that radroach crawlin' around?"
A slight shift of movement, and then a pause, as though she realized his fib.
Cross grinned, rolling to lie on his back with his hands tucked behind his head. "Those bastards like to crawl in somethin' warm on nights like these- just keep your bag closed. Should be fine." He then raised up slightly, grabbed a long twig that had been spared from becoming tinder, and scraped it quickly along the wall. "...at least he ain't too big."
There was a flash as her roll sat upright like a frightened worm, and she unzipped it quickly in panic. He had already laid his hat over his face, pretending to be fast asleep. A moment of silence, and just when he figured she had called his bluff and gone back to ignoring him, did he feel her body tuck close. The brim was lifted enough to catch sight of her unzipping her roll to pull him inside, and he startled her with a swoop of his arms to squish her to his chest.
There was a massive grin on his face, and he squeezed her lovingly as he whispered through her hair, "Ya big fuckin' baby."
The cold air stung her skin. Evelyn gasped as her warm cocoon was rudely torn away.
"Wake up. You sleep like the fuckin' dead," a grumpy voice greeted her. She blinked, rubbing her eyes with her fingertips. The merc was already fully clothed, crouched beside her with a white curl at his lips from his smoke. "Fuck you doin' in here?! Smells like the dead, too."
"You are so annoying," she huffed, taking ahold of the edge of the sleeping bag to bury herself back under.
"Like, so annoying." He ripped it back a second time. "...can't tell if it was the Instamash or the Pork n' Beans-"
"Cross, stop it!"
"Cross, stop it!"
She tersely sighed and slammed a fist into the concrete, creating a little spiderweb of cracks. "Do you want a fucking repeat of that night?"
Cross' eyelids lowered as they narrowed at her. His fingers waggled as his hands rested over his knees, meeting her glare with a deadly serious expression. "Do you want, like, a fucking repeat?"
"Ugh!" The roll was thrust aside, and she threw her hair over one shoulder as she reached for her decency. "That's it! Take your ass back to wherever the hell it is you came from!"
He muttered, tilting his head to the side as he watched her bend over to pull up her suit, "Was plannin' to."
A sudden snap of something drew their heads around on a dime. Evelyn's suit just made it past her hips as a face rounded the garage frame. She squeaked in embarrassment, turning her back to them as the merc already stood, his gun aimed and the hammer cocked back.
"I'm only goin' to give ya to the count of three," he growled, taking a step to the side to block her from view.
The stranger raised her hands as she fully revealed herself, eyeing the ghoul cautiously. "Just passing by. Heard some distressed voices...came to investigate."
"You the Silver fuckin' Shroud?" The merc didn't relax his smoldering expression and waved the barrel to the side. "Go."
The woman blinked, and then took in another sight of Evelyn as she fumbled slightly from trying to step into her boots. "You okay, Miss?"
Cross went to open his mouth but then slowly closed it. He knew what this looked like. Evelyn was covered in bruises- a token of his mouth across her skin. A beautiful woman in a vault suit, arguing with a ghoul like himself spelled out all sorts of wrong scenarios.
"We're fine," Evelyn snapped, sliding her other boot on. She winced as she lifted her leg; she was so sore.
"You sure?"
Now Evelyn turned around, her laces undone and hair wild around her face as she openly stared at this stranger being so bold at the receiving end of a gun. "I'm going to give you until the count of one."
Those raised hands slowly lowered. "You from a Vault?"
A growl. She still didn't know how to answer that question, and it only scratched at already prickled nerves.
"Would you be so kind as to just fuck off," Evelyn hissed, the tears in her voice making her words thick. Cross slightly lowered his gun as he watched her shoulders shake and her nose begin to run. "I'm not from a fucking Vault! Okay?! I'm Evelyn! Just Evelyn! Not some stupid experiment from some stupid fucking lab, but me! Me!"
"Baby..." Cross rasped.
The woman suddenly went to draw a laser pistol, but Cross was lightning quick.
Bang!
Evelyn jumped in place from the crack of his gun ringing inside her skull. The stranger with noble intentions dropped like a bag of flour. Despite her earlier threat, Evelyn gaped at him. Violence was not something new for her, she had killed people with her bare hands without a single bat of her eye. It's what kept her alive...but that-
"She was just trying to help," Evelyn reasoned as he holstered his smoking barrel and crouched over their intruder. "You didn't have to-"
"The fuck you think this looks like?" he snapped at her, and it was the first time he had ever shown her true malice. "I'm a fuckin' ghoul, remember? Not everyone is as fucked in the head as you are."
Evelyn instantly remembered the prostitute's words of warning. He was mean. The whirl of her hair flew about her face as she pivoted away from him, quietly going about gathering her things. Massive, dirt-streaked boots were at the end of her sleeping bag that she had started to roll up tightly. A glance upwards, her eyes blurry with tears.
Charon was standing over her, arms crossed, and expression softened.
I...apologize. I did not mean to...speak to you, in that manner.
I just don't understand why you're so mad at me.
It is not you I am upset with-
Then what is it?!
The ghoul broke their eye contact; he couldn't bear letting her see the grief he had welled away inside.
It...it is nothing. Come. Let us continue.
"We fuckin' goin', or what?" Cross gruffly rasped behind her. He nudged her butt with his boot.
"Where the fuck is Charon?!" she snarled, throwing her organized bedding to the ground. She spun to face him, shoving the ghoul backward with a push. "Why did you let him go?! That wasn't fair of you! You know what he is!"
He's a man just like me, the synth thought, blinking down at this ruddy-faced woman they both had shared a night with. He's...not his own.
"I don't know where he is-"
"Bullshit!" she cried. "You know exactly!"
A sharp inhale expanded his lungs; how the fuck did she do that?! How could she read him when there was nothing written?
She sniffled loudly, turning her back to him.
"I'm-" A deep breath. "-I'm sorry my selfishness put us in this mess." She wiped the backside of her hand across her face, trying to hide her grief as her throat constricted. "I'm sorry- I don't know what to think-"
His arms banded around her before she could grab her things, and she felt his body heat burn through the layers of fabric. He held on to her fiercely, his head buried into her tumble of hair as he breathed her in.
"...a big part of me left with you in that Vault, and I never got it back." His rough mouth desperately kissed the soft skin of her neck. "I know I'm askin' a lot from ya, and I don't deserve to...but I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do."
A trail of his endless need for her journeyed downwards, his fingers undoing the zipper of her suit to pull off her shoulders. The fabric was gently removed by his strong hands, and she was consumed in his endless tirade of soft caressing along her spine. She released a breathy sigh as he spun her around, his tongue swirling along down to the glistening between her thighs. A shaky whimper filled the air as he stroked the grey muscle along her swollen bud, the soft skin of her ass cupped in his palms. They soon found themselves curled on the floor amongst their strewn clothes as they frantically sought assurance from the other with their hands and lips. He was riding atop of her, one hand grasped at her waist as the other stroked her face. He leaned close, his hot breath ghosting her ear as he made deep strokes that curled her toes and beckoned lustful cries.
The body just outside was completely forgotten; the lingering question of the ferryman's whereabouts was stored back on a high shelf where neither would risk bringing back down to argue over. He submitted his apology with a sweet kiss, one he reserved for her alone. She accepted it without a second thought as her fingertips ghosted across his muscled shoulders, and her tongue swirled over his smoky one. They both knew no matter what words were said, whether intentional or not, were simply that, words. There was nothing that mere vocals could begin to explain about how they felt for the other; she was his, and he was hers.
And nothing in the world could change that.
A high-pitched squeak, and she slipped. Cross' arm snaked underneath her waist, and he simply threw her over one shoulder and carried her down the swampy road. The rain muffled her indignant protests at the humiliating manner in which she was transported. The merc turned his head to her, a stream of water running down his hat.
"Huh? You fuckin' say somethin'?"
A shrill snap. "Put me down! I can fucking-!"
He instantly complied, tossing her into a particularly nasty mud pit she easily sank into. She was completely unrecognizable, transformed into some oozing wasteland monster. "You fuck!"
"Goddamn, you just bitch 'bout everythin'." He rolled his eyes, jamming the stub of his pinky finger into an ear canal and giving a fierce rub.
With a snarl from the new breed of mutated creature, she rose on wobbling knees, her arms held out to her sides as she went to stand. "I'll fucking-!"
Her threat died with a mouthful of earth as she faceplanted. After she rolled over, spitting and wiping the mud from her eyes, he was gone. The ropy strand of her braid smacked her in the face as she wildly looked around. The ghoul was taking cover from the pelting rain under a half-constructed canopy. Cross gave her a two-finger salute with a stoic expression.
The merc shoved his hands in his jacket, watching his mess of a lover fumble and stumble through the swamp on her hands and knees as she gave up all form of dignity and crawled away. Her direction wasn't to him, however, and he was left staring at her across the mudhole of a road, disappearing into another shell of a building. A crack of thunder played in harmony with her sudden screaming, and he found himself bounding through the open doorway in mere seconds. A radroach had her cornered. She scrabbled at the walls in an attempt to climb up to a high shelf like some stringy, mud-covered rat. He stomped on the insect; his heart was racing.
Fuckin' give me a goddamn heart attack! He growled to himself.
She whipped around, narrowing the little visible blue marble of her eyes at the sight of him. With a haughty humpf, she crossed her arms and turned her head to the side. The vibration from his boots stomping towards her made her eyes open to the sight of his massive hands reaching down for her; within moments, she was yowling like a scraggly cat as he stripped her, the sound being drowned by the boom of thunder. Her clothes were discarded and she was left completely naked, her mud-caked face and hands being the only unrecognizable piece of her.
Cross pulled her along behind him, exposing her to the freezing rain. "Take a big one."
She panicked, "One of what?!"
He dunked her head in a barrel overflowing with water. She gasped loudly, spitting everywhere as he undid her braid and washed her hands. When he was satisfied with his work, he set her inside and returned with her clothes, submerging them to the depths of the barrel to soak.
"You cold?" he joked when he finished. She stood in the corner, shaking like a dry leaf in a violent hailstorm. "I ain't got nothin' for a fire- hold on."
The sleeping roll was barely laid out entirely before she dove in. Cross removed his own clothes before squeezing himself inside. His hand was groping a piece of her ass as she smooshed herself as close as physically possible.
"If you think we have enough room to fuck in this, I'm sorry to disappoint you," she mused.
The hems were nearly stretched thin as it were, and the added shuffles threatened to split them open, but he was already curling her leg around his waist, using the close contact to his advantage in rubbing his erection against her.
"You're going to make a fucking mess in this- I'll never get it clean." He snaked his hand around and fingered the hot walls of her cunt while she shuddered and whimpered, "S-s-stop!"
He did and slowly withdrew, careful to smear her thick, dribbling mess around her clit while his other hand teased a nipple mercilessly. Now her entire body was begging to have him finish. His cock pulsated with excitement; she could feel the tip digging into her stomach as it was kept trapped between them.
She looked up after he went stock still. There was such a fucking smug expression on his face; any other time, it would have riled her. At that moment, she craved nothing more than to have him fuck the life from her body. With what freedom of movement she had, she used to grind on his shaft, climbing up to the tip to insert it herself when his hands came at her waist and halted her.
"You said stop," he reminded her, but the grin on his face said otherwise.
She growled, "Don't you dare."
A chuckle. "You're right, not enough room."
She pressed closer to him a little more as she slid back down, eliciting a low groan in the back of his throat while his fingers dug into her skin.
"Whatever you say, Cowboy." She then wrapped a hand around his base, using the wetness she had parted him with as lubrication while she stroked him slowly. She rubbed the tip in smooth circles, using a thumb to focus the pressure before she resumed pleasuring him with a teasing handjob. The ghoul grunted and closed his eyes, his hands fondling her breasts. She sucked on his lower lip and bit down, building the pace below to get him close.
He tucked his mouth beside her ear, rasping lowly as he neared his climax, "Holy fuck baby, stroke that fuckin' cock-"
He was close, and she stopped. She gently kissed his jawline as he waited for her to finish him, his breathing heavy down her neck as she whispered evilly, "I said stop, remember?"
The sleeping bag was nearly ripped apart from the force he used to open it with. He carried her under one arm, braving themselves to the elements of swirling rain as he approached the murky water in the barrel. Her eyes widened, and she struggled.
"No, don't you fucking-!"
A dunk, and she was reunited with her sodden clothes.
The crumbling highways eventually became sand, and Evelyn would read her map whilst in step behind the bounty hunter, assessing their route as Cross continued from memory and experience alone. He stopped, and she kept walking, too absorbed by her upside-down parchment to notice. He grabbed her by the end of her braid and nearly swept her off her feet by how hard he tugged.
"Ow!" she whined, yanking the map down to turn and properly glare at him for the rude infraction. "What the hell?"
Cross merely indicated with his chin to their relative direction, and she turned. The decaying city they were set to travel through had small posts gathered at the base of its main street avenue, piked with corpses- raiders.
"Oh." She once more looked at him. "How far is it to go around?"
"We ain't. Not this time." He scratched at his brow and pointed to a few dumpsters crowding around a side street. "We're goin' under."
"Under?" she questioned. When the merc just continued along, leaving her behind in the dust, she hastily stowed away her map and took off in pursuit. "Isn't that risky? Have you done this before?"
"Yep."
"...is that a yeah, it's dangerous, or yeah, I've done this before?"
"Yep."
She huffed, forced to follow as they skirted awfully close to the city's edge until they were near enough that she could window shop the gutted department stores and hear the caw of birds nesting in the old-style apartments. There was a loud screeching as Cross pushed a dumpster away from a building, revealing a small set of stairs that disappeared into a wall of black.
She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise at the creepy alternative route. "No way."
"Yeah," he rasped, giving her a crooked grin. "Way."
They descended, his hands in his pockets while she clung to his elbow like a small child, willingly becoming swallowed by the all-encompassing darkness and damp air. She stubbed her toe against the back of his boot, and he growled at her to watch her step while she scoffed in return, "I can't see fucking shit. What the hell do you expect?!"
"Hold on." There was rustling from inside his duster and a sudden beam of bright light. He knew the flashlight had been a good picking from when he had snubbed it out of Jay's pack back at Braxton. "Better?"
She harrumphed, but clung tighter to him regardless. "I guess it'll do."
The light seemed to have made the situation somewhat worse. They were traveling down a maintenance tunnel, the concrete walls thick and narrow and nearly making the merc crouch. It seemed to continue on for miles, and there was only the sound of her breathing and footsteps until the merc began to hum a throaty rasp of a song, tugging a small smile on her lips as he occasionally looked down at her with a grin.
"Come listen, you fellers, so young and so fine!" They came to a fork in the road, and he took a left. "It's dark as a dungeon, way down in the mines."
The merc suddenly halted, and she blinked through the black as he roved the flashlight around a larger space. He grumbled to himself as he shined his light around the room, grunting, "Fuck."
"What?! What is it?!"
"Door's blocked." He pointed the beam of light to a crumbling wall of concrete blocks. "Looks like the place collapsed at some point...there's a button on the other side of all that that opens the maintenance shaft in the floor."
They came to inspect the rubble, and Evelyn crouched with her tongue stuck out to the side, assessing a sizable hole. "I can fit."
Cross crouched as she began to squeeze through, handing her the flashlight. "Ya sure?"
She paused, whipping her head back around. "Are you insinuating that I'm too fat?"
A shrug. "Thought we agreed on thick-ow!" She had punched his shoulder; it hurt. "Well, hurry up then. We ain't got all damn day."
She started through, wiggling when the wall met with her hips. There was a squeak, followed by a wild squirm, and a pause. "…Cross?"
He had to bite into a fist to stifle his laughter. "Yeah?"
"I…" Her voice became small. "I think I'm stuck." He grabbed her legs and began to pull, making her yowl, "Ow, quit it!"
The bounty hunter dropped her and then scratched at his head. "Damn. Think I might just have to leave ya here."
"Ha ha, very funny." She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see. "Cross?" Silence, and she swept a leg around to bump into him. Nothing. "Cross?! You did not just fucking leave me here!"
She thrashed until a hand clamped down on her ass. "Goddamn, calm down, ya brayin' like a fuckin' brahmin. I'm goin' to have to cut this suit off-"
"No, you're not!"
Evelyn…I'm going to have to cut away your clothes. Please stop screaming- this was your fault, to begin with. Now hold still.
"Hold fuckin' still- I don't want to nick ya."
There was the sound of his knife being unsheathed, and she panicked at the humiliating memory, planting both hands to the side and cracking the earth enough to squeeze through. There was a loud rumble, and before the rockslide could crush her, she slid herself forward. The merc's voice was muffled, but extremely alarmed.
"Evelyn?!"
"I'm alright-" A cough at the swirling dust. "-I'm okay!" she shouted, and it went quiet.
She picked up her flashlight, whirling it around the space. There was the body of a ghoul in the corner, slumped and ghastly and withered, and she jumped from her skin and squeaked in fright.
"There's someone in here!" she nearly screamed.
Cross chuckled. "That's ol' Larry. Used to do some trade with him whenever I came through. He died some years back."
"And you just left him down here?!"
"Hell else am I goin' to do with him?"
She shuddered and continued to look around before spying a button on the wall. She stepped over and pressed it, hearing the mechanical swing of the door hinges just on the other side. "Did it open?"
"Yeah. Now get the fuck over here!"
She studied the rubble for a moment. No way, no how. The little cone of illumination went upwards and sideways as she discovered another tunnel that had opened up through the wall, perhaps from the shifting of the rocks from the previous cave-in.
She called out, "I'm going to find an exit! I'll meet you back outside!"
Cross was busily searching for any sort of crack he could begin digging into. He wasn't as strong as she was, but he was a hundred times more pumped on adrenaline. This was much too familiar to be comfortable with. When he finally came away with nothing, he bit his fist.
"You have twenty fuckin' minutes, or I'm comin' back with dynamite!"
She cupped her hands around her mouth. "Twenty minutes, aye!"
Cross hurried down the stairs, absolutely blind in the smothering darkness but familiar enough he knew where to step. His eyes eventually adjusted enough he could take his hand off the wall, his feet quick and his gear jingling as he half-sprinted down the corridor in hopes to maybe-
A scream. One of death.
"EVELYN!" he shouted.
It sounded close, but not close enough he could come to her aid. The ghoul began to panic and could only follow the sound until a sudden great big BOOM burst out the wall just feet from where he was standing, and a bright flash of light momentarily blinded him as it was pointed at his face.
"Cross!" she sobbed.
The ghoul sprinted, scooping her up in his arms as she dropped the flashlight and held on to him for dear life.
"I gotcha baby, I gotcha." He set her down and picked up the torch, shining her from head to toe for any sign of injury. "What happened?! Ya hurt?!"
"N-no," she sniveled, and then she pointed to the giant fucking hole she had made in the wall. "He's, he's, he's not dead!"
"Huh?"
Ol' Larry came crawling out, gasping and moaning and completely out to lunch in terms of humanity as his gasping little breaths continued towards them, wriggling along the floor as his legs were now missing.
Cross sighed and whipped out his gun, firing a clean shot that reverberated around the confined space. He rasped after breathing out a relieved laugh, "Okay, now he's dead."
They left the (now) corpse behind, soon drinking in the open sunshine on the other side of the city outskirts.