LibriumArcana.Games

( Continuing from the UD board.)

Hating it but knowing she had to, she fell into step a respectable half-pace behind him as he headed down the street. About twenty minutes later, they entered what appeared to be a rather derelict postal building (quite possibly before the outbreak as well) and Sherry glanced around, noticing that they hadn't appeared to have stayed there long. Perhaps they hadn't planned on it; perhaps they just didn't have much to begin with.

A few faces she didn't recognized stared lamely back at them, all the fight seemingly drained from them.

Refugees, she thought. That's what this looked like. A camp outside Johannesburg.

She refrained from commenting.

Jaycee gestured his people to the left and the right. "Get us some of that stew cooking," he ordered, before turning toward Sherry and favoring her with a patently insincere grin. "So anyway, what now? What's our big job with the famous Irregulars?"

"Well," she said as she considered what the others would be doing as opposed to visualizing a bullet going through the slimy kid's forehead. "Chances are you'll be doing the same kind of work I do. Scouting out the prime real estate, so to speak."

She shifted, resting with her hands in her pockets.

"Perhaps more barricading projects like the one we just did at the mall. Really, it's eclectic work... But it's necessary."

Jaycee shook his head, chuckling. "Well, you're just a regular public servant these days, out doing all the good. Is it true that guy used to be a soldier?"

She looked earnestly up to him, for a moment forgetting that he wasn't going to live past that night.

"We're the ones who were told we didn't fit in or couldn't make it in th'old world. And through some twisted luck we get t'shape th'new world just how we want it. So it's in our best interests to look after th'people who've suddenly found out that they aren't capable of leading themselves."

She laughed shortly.

"We're riff-raff when there's authority around; we're the saviors of humanity when the authority's gone. Fuckin' humanity for ya."

His look of contempt was obvious. "Yeah, saving the world and so on." He shrugged and turned to wave at the rest of the gang. "You know Colin, Shemp, Larry and the rest, got Smit and Turner here from the Southenders after the fall..."

He ran down the litany of names casually, gesturing and pointing.

She nodded casually, recognizing some names and being completely baffled by others. Didn't matter for the most part; were it not for their leader she had the feeling that the others would be pretty much welcomed.

"Mark and Gabby? Casualties, I assume?" she asked casually.

Or perhaps they'd just been loyal.

Jaycee examined his grubby fingernails. "Mark got arrested after you landed in the slam, don't know what happened to him. Gabby got it when Ron did, caught out on the street. Damn shame, y'know, damn shame," he said, shaking his head in a manner that vaguely approximated sorrow.

She nodded, handling the anger inside her well enough. or did you tape her, kill her, and leave the body out there for the shamblers, huh? Motherfuckers...

But she said none of that, and simply listened to him continue his report.

He waved his hand around. "And we got some food stocked up, stuff we... scrounged, y'know, and weapons, like I told your boss, mostly bats and crowbars, that sort of thing."

He looked at her suddenly, his icy eyes settling on her. "Something wrong, Sher?"

She looked up suddenly as though he'd startled her out of a deep thought. It was a good act. Not necessarily playing dumb... Just distracted.

"Sorry," she said, "it's just bizarre t'be seein' all you guys again. First familiar faces I've seen since all this shit happened."

Only hoping she hadn't let the intense disgust she felt flare up in her expression, she tucked her bangs behind her ear and surveyed the building around them. They'd be an easy fit in the mall, she informed him that they had ample space and if they wanted to keep their resources separate, that'd be fine.

The day passed into night as they discussed details and plans for the operation, though neither really believed it would matter soon enough.

Jaycee had done surprisingly well in keeping the gang together, but it was obviously a reign of terror that kept them frightened and dependent on him.

And all along, he kept giving the odd look, one that promised dire portents for the immediate future.

And she listened to him, admittedly not paying much attention as he'd be dead soon anyway. But she smiled, nodded appropriately, offered interjections...

And after a few hours had passed and evening was drawing near, she announced:

"All right, well it looks like everything's in order. You've done well for yourself." She paused, considering. "Take tonight to gather your things and inform the men of what we expect of them. We'll send people over at dawn."

"Not going to spend the night?" he asked. "We can make room for you..."

"Nah, thanks for the offer," she said a bit too cheerfully. "But I've got more business to attend to--once you get back there you'll realize that it's a busy place and can be quite the pain in the ass."

She smiled brightly.

"But it's worth it."

He answered her with an equally insincere grin. "I'll bet. See ya soon then."

He made a small gesture, tapping a single finger on his hip. "Be careful on your way back, hey?"

"Oh, I will," she said dryly, "and keep your doors locked nice`n' tight, okay? Who knows what type of things are out on the streets this time of night."

And with that she gave him her biggest, brightest go-fuck-yourself smile, twirled her fingers in a tiny wave, and waltzed out into the night, keeping her hand on the butt of her gun just in case.

After all, Jaycee liked people's backs moreso than their faces.

She had made it about a block down the street when a single shot cracked out from the post office...

At the sound, every ounce of blood in the girl's veins ran cold.

A single name, like a switchblade through the fog of her brain.

Colin.

And despite her plans, despite her promise to the Irregulars, that rabidly protective nature took over and she spun on her heel, drawing the pistol as she dashed back toward the building, shoving the door open and pointing the barrel ofthe firearm straight where Jaycee had been standing.

Jaycee didn't happen to be standing there any longer. He was standing over Colin, pistol in hand. The teenager was on the floor, hands clenched to his stomach, his eyes glazed over.

The rest of the gang stood around, various expressions of shock and fear on their face, excepting Jaycee's bodyguards, who looked unmoved. The moment stretched on into an eternity before Jaycee, recognizing the imminent danger and promise of death in her eyes, threw himself to the right behind the Southender he'd taken for a bodyguard.

And despite the hatred, despite the anger, she couldn't go to him first. She ran to the fallen boy, kneeling beside him although she kept her eyes trained on Jaycee's. If he was any amount of perceptive, he could feel the boiling heat emanating from her gaze.

"Colin...?" she asked quietly, feeling the boy's neck for a feeble pulse.

If he's dead you're going to pay. You're going to burn in Hell already, but I'll make sure you get there faster.

Colin was alive, but she knew well that they had nothing like the facilities to deal with a critical stomach wound. His eyes focused on hers.

"Sher..." he whispered.

Jaycee smirked and leveled his pistol. "Well, saves us some trouble. You are a fucking idiot, Sher."

She looked down at the boy--hed been only thirteen when they met--with tears in her eyes, then grabbed his hand in her own.

"I'll be back in just a second," she whispered, "just hold on tight for me, okay?"

From her position hunched over the boy, it was difficult for Jaycee or the others to see her expression, which was a key factor in how quickly she pounced, leaping at the bodguard's legs as she drew her machete, screaming like a banshee as she let into him, not going for the obvious target in order to maintain the element of surprise.

Complete and total surprise worked in her favor. The improvised machete slammed into his knee with a sickening cthunk. Sickening, and no doubt gratifying. He screamed in a surprisingly high pitched voice as he tumbled over. A deafening shot rang out as Jaycee panicked and fired, the bullet thudding into the falling ganger. The other bodyguard froze in the face of the confusion, as the rest of the gang scrambled back, trying to stay out of the way of the melee.

As the shot buried itself into the man's chest, she drew the machete from his legs and darted low to the ground towards Jaycee, her eyes locked with his, never wavering.

"I told you four years ago," she hissed, "to never touch a hair on his godamned head!"

She screamed as she lunged at him, protecting her legs with her body, bringing the machete swinging up at his stomach from below.