Day Two Mafia Hit - Stopping for Direction

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!

~The Destruction of Sennacherib by Lord Byron

I get so scared
Just to see you on the street
They're living dead
Your all the same, you never speak

~Black Limousine by The Rolling Stones

Matt twirled the ketchup bottle around idly on the table while he wondered what to do. He had become increasingly sure that they were going the wrong way. At first just getting out of Seattle was fine and it didn't matter what they went towards so long as they were moving away. The dreams, though, were bothering him; Mother Abigale seemed so real and unfortunately so did the Dark Man. That one had a presence both alien and familiar and it was frightening - Matt wasn't too big of a man to admit it. Flagg scared him senseless...and he was in Las Vegas.

They had all stopped at a restaurant just inside of Oregon. Some of the others were making use of what had not yet spoiled to prepare a lunch for the rest of them. Disturbing to think that these same people who were fixing each other a meal last night had killed one of their own.

In fact, Matthew thought, that was unsettling enough to kill his appetite. He sighed and put his cheek in his hand, remembering Mother Abigale’s invitation and wondering if they would ever be able to take her up on it.

Others were remembering their dreams as well.

~*~*~

“Well now that was decent work with old Vern even if you didn't manage to finish the job.” Flagg gave his group of followers a wide, terrifying grin. “It’s alright though. I had someone else take care of the task for me.”

Something flickered across Flagg’s face as he said that, though none of them could have said what it was. Perhaps none of them dared to think that it was false bravado, that perhaps Flagg didn’t have quite as perfect control over this situation as he would have the group believe. In any case, the moment passed quickly enough; the walking man looked at them each in turn as his expression grew serious. “Right now there is something else I need you to do. This group is starting to question their direction. Another example needs to be made. Choose someone that hits home for them, who makes them feel safe.” That wicked smile and Flagg's next words seemed to remain etched permanently into his follower’s dreams. “Kill the army nurse.”

~*~*~

Emerald wasn't the type to sit around and wait while other people were busy. She moved with a purpose between the booths, helping bringing out the food that had been cooked up using a small paraffin stove. The ones in the kitchen had taken great care with making their work space neat, scouring the place while looking for anything useful for the group. They had really banded together and were working as a team. She thought the others could learn from the example of the kitchen crew.

With a smart shove of the metal doors, the nurse went back into the kitchen to get her own food. She looked around questioningly as someone moved up right behind her. Obviously they had no concept of personal space.

“A little room, please...”

It was then that she felt the pinch and slide of a needle, an unmistakable sensation for someone who had given so many to others and received more than a few herself.

“What have you....Why?”

Hands grabbed her and steered her stumbling form around back while the group watched for the signs that their drug was taking effect. It was not long before the coughing began and Emerald's insides burned. Blood started to pour from her nose; soon she collapsed and moved no more.

“What was in the injection?”

The figure snorted in amusement and tossed down the used syringe before going back to rummaging through Emerald’s belongings. One of the others picked it up, bringing it to their nose and sniffing before announcing their findings to the group.

“Windex.” A shrug. “Well…it worked.”