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.”

Tor 17 years ago
Since it was possible that this would be the last warm meal that they could get individually prepared for awhile, Kassidy was eating a bit more than she might otherwise have chosen to. There had been eggs that were still good, and that wasn't something to pass up on. No meats, but some frozen vegetables - she'd eaten around the broccoli, but the peas, corn and squash had all been really tasty.

Glancing around, most everyone else was eating diligently or chattering quietly in a post meal glow. A couple of people had been bringing food back and forth, but it looked like they'd stopped. They were probably eating their meals now. Wondering what else there was in the back, Kass pushed open the big metal door.

That wasn't food. That was a dead Emerald.

Before she could help it, the eggs came boiling back up out of her stomach and onto the floor. She'd been the one who had brought the eggs out to her, and they'd chatted just a few minutes ago.

All that and her good food was just wasted by some stupid killer, and now there were two messes to clean up. But she didn't really want to eat any more now.


"Umm...guys?"
vwinsect 17 years ago
Lanna had been eating a small selection of the food that was prepared, and supplimenting it with a power bar from the stash she had collected around the needle from the news stands and souvineer shops when she heard the young woman call out.

Getting up, she moved over to where Kassidy was and saw the body. With quick thinking, she quickly knelt and felt for a pulse. Shaking her head, she looked up with a pale face.


"I would say some sort of poison from the blood here at her nose. And there doesn't seem to be any other sign of trauma." Lanna gave the body a quick going over. "I'm not a doctor though, that is just a guess." Her voice was for once unsure in a medical situation. This whole situation was really starting to get to her and the not knowing about her parents underlay all the other stresses.

Getting up she found a t towel and put it over the other woman's face. "I am getting so tired of dead bodies." Her voice sounded defeated. She would bounce back, she always did, but for now she needed a moment. Tears for the dead woman fell down her face. It wasn't that she knew Emerald all that well, but after all that they had been through, she needed a good cry.

She rushed back outside to hide the crack in her solid persona from the others. She didn't like to seem weak in the face of trouble.
Four Winds 17 years ago
Lincoln had kept quiet while Lanna had examined Emerald.

He'd only gotten hot water for his ration pack from Emerald minutes before, and now she was dead. Lanna said poison. It could be the Flu, or something worse. But Lincoln wasn't going to voice that out loud.

This was no way for a soldier to die. No way for anyone to die. Lincoln waited until Lanna had left and then went back behind the counter and pulled the still warm body to its feet. He swung Emerald over his shoulder and took her outside the restaurant.

Emerald deserved better than an unmarked shallow grave. In old times some cultures had burned their dead out of respect and to stop the spread of disease.

Lincoln thought that would be a proper sendoff for a military nurse. He left Emerald's personal items with her, but removed items and equipment from her corpse and the inside of her Jeep that the others might have a use for.

He considered taking the handgun, but Lincoln looked at it with some distaste. The stoning of that reporter fella had left a bad taste in his mouth. What would be next. An execution style killing - one shot to the back of the head?

Lincoln carefully placed Emerald's body in the back of the Jeep and drove it a short ways from the restaurant. A knotted rag in the gas tank would have to suffice. Lincoln lit the rag and stood a respectful distance from the Jeep.

He saluted the dead medic as the Jeep was engulfed in a ball of flame. He stood there for sometime, alone with his thoughts.

Lincoln rubbed his head and sighed. Some days he wished he was dead.


Slipnish 17 years ago
Estaban watched as the one nurse bent over the other. The curve of her hips held his attention until she raised back up and placed a towel over the face of the body and said something about poison.

"Damnit!" he thought, "How am I ever going to set the mood for a leetle time alone with one of remaining womens if every day somebody is going to inconvenience us by falling over? It's not like I can get fresh flowers and chocolate any longer."

Estaban glanced down at the eggs and whatever it was on his plate. He pushed it around with a fork, and wished once more that at least ONE of the survivors had been a chef somewhere besides McDonalds.

Much like his thoughts of quiche, it seemed his plans for a love life were going nowhere as well...