Hos
shylarah
Atalanta
Sotiras
The Savant@Provodnikov What?
Sterling Member
STATUS: Checking some stuff out! 9 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
9 yrs ago
Current
Checking some stuff out!
Bio
I'm Sterling, I've been writing/roleplaying for 11 years now. I like reading, writing, singing, dancing, horse back ridding and dog training.
I like highly detailed plots and games. While I don't think all posts should be three or four paragraphs long, I think it is harder to have quality with stunted posts.
I'm more into fantasy and historical than sci fi etc. but if the writers are good, that's really what matters.
Please feel free to message me. I'm fairly good at being nice.
I like highly detailed plots and games. While I don't think all posts should be three or four paragraphs long, I think it is harder to have quality with stunted posts.
I'm more into fantasy and historical than sci fi etc. but if the writers are good, that's really what matters.
Please feel free to message me. I'm fairly good at being nice.
Most Recent Posts
:D sure thing, though her focus for years has been plant life. @Halcyon
@Halcyon What is s/he? Exciting!
@Azseth New Char for the CDC for you :)
Name: Gina Hollis, more Aptly Doctor Gina Hollis, PhD in biological and agricultural engineering
Age: 30
Occupation: Biological and Agricultural Engineer, specifically creating hardier plants and crops.
Family life: Gina was a foster child, eventually adopted by a loving family in Idaho. Her real parents had a little meth problem. But that didn’t stop Gina, her new foster and then adoptive family was supportive albeit large. She has three foster brothers and one foster sister as well as her parents. She has one biological sister but they haven’t seen each other in years and years, being spilt up in the foster care system.
Hair: Very dark brown, wavy, mid chest length
Eyes: Bright blue, hidden behind large black rimmed glasses.
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 130lbs
Group: CDC
Appearance: Gina doesn’t pay much attention to her appearance, more interested in what’s in her head. She tends to wear odd patterned shirts or dresses, with comfortable loose skirts or even scrub pants as she works in a lab. Clogs are the shoe of choice here.
Gina is a small and slightly curvy woman, her dark brown hair unaltered in anyway and usually falling over her shoulders in a mop or messily thrown up in a bun so it’s out of her way. She has large glasses that she really needs and bright blue intelligent, albeit odd eyes.
Picture:
Blood Type: O+
Immune: Yes.
Reason For Government Interest: Gina probably wasn’t their first choice, she was brought to the CDC last minute and was probably just the best option closely available with her credentials in genetic alteration and biology. Her main area of focus is producing hardier, longer living, larger producing agricultural yields.
Bio:
Gina Hollis was the first daughter born to her biological parents Stan and Lindsey Hollis, who married at 17 when Lindsey got pregnant. Both her parents dropped out of high school and after several years of holding minium wage jobs and working the most unwanted shifts, another accidental pregnancy, they seemed to realize their childhood was stolen and felt it was time to reclaim that.
Partying on weekends turned into partying on weeknights too, and then maybe afternoons… Drinking and weed moved onto harder stuff until one of the teachers at the public elementary school Gina and her sister Caren attended noticed something was amiss.
Social services was called and the Hollis’ were deemed unfit parents. Caren and Gina were placed in the foster care system, and to find them both homes were split up.
Gina was placed with the Adams’, a family who was highly religious and already big. They were farmers and welcomed Gina into their life graciously. Gina was clean, cared for, fed, and even loved. She continued to go to school and learn, enjoying what her teachers had to say and show her, and attended church with the Adams’ . By the time Gina was 10 years old they officially adopted her.
Gina was accepted into the university of Idaho and got her BA in Biology. She continued through state funding to get her PhD in Biological and Agricultural Engineering and took on a position in a local lab making stronger crops.
Age: 30
Occupation: Biological and Agricultural Engineer, specifically creating hardier plants and crops.
Family life: Gina was a foster child, eventually adopted by a loving family in Idaho. Her real parents had a little meth problem. But that didn’t stop Gina, her new foster and then adoptive family was supportive albeit large. She has three foster brothers and one foster sister as well as her parents. She has one biological sister but they haven’t seen each other in years and years, being spilt up in the foster care system.
Hair: Very dark brown, wavy, mid chest length
Eyes: Bright blue, hidden behind large black rimmed glasses.
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 130lbs
Group: CDC
Appearance: Gina doesn’t pay much attention to her appearance, more interested in what’s in her head. She tends to wear odd patterned shirts or dresses, with comfortable loose skirts or even scrub pants as she works in a lab. Clogs are the shoe of choice here.
Gina is a small and slightly curvy woman, her dark brown hair unaltered in anyway and usually falling over her shoulders in a mop or messily thrown up in a bun so it’s out of her way. She has large glasses that she really needs and bright blue intelligent, albeit odd eyes.
Picture:
Blood Type: O+
Immune: Yes.
Reason For Government Interest: Gina probably wasn’t their first choice, she was brought to the CDC last minute and was probably just the best option closely available with her credentials in genetic alteration and biology. Her main area of focus is producing hardier, longer living, larger producing agricultural yields.
Bio:
Gina Hollis was the first daughter born to her biological parents Stan and Lindsey Hollis, who married at 17 when Lindsey got pregnant. Both her parents dropped out of high school and after several years of holding minium wage jobs and working the most unwanted shifts, another accidental pregnancy, they seemed to realize their childhood was stolen and felt it was time to reclaim that.
Partying on weekends turned into partying on weeknights too, and then maybe afternoons… Drinking and weed moved onto harder stuff until one of the teachers at the public elementary school Gina and her sister Caren attended noticed something was amiss.
Social services was called and the Hollis’ were deemed unfit parents. Caren and Gina were placed in the foster care system, and to find them both homes were split up.
Gina was placed with the Adams’, a family who was highly religious and already big. They were farmers and welcomed Gina into their life graciously. Gina was clean, cared for, fed, and even loved. She continued to go to school and learn, enjoying what her teachers had to say and show her, and attended church with the Adams’ . By the time Gina was 10 years old they officially adopted her.
Gina was accepted into the university of Idaho and got her BA in Biology. She continued through state funding to get her PhD in Biological and Agricultural Engineering and took on a position in a local lab making stronger crops.
@Halcyon Yeah definitely, whatever works with both timelines. I know by Sept. Marni and Robin are in Missouri...
Jig lit, Chasity inhaled deeply and let out the puff of smoke, all the while drumming her fingertips against the glass. The music was good and her brothers were not likely to dance with her, maybe Walter after a few drinks…
Turning her head to look about the room she spotted an older gentleman at the bar she knew. Isidor Levin and the Adler’s had some business arrangement, it was why she had such beautiful jewelry. Chasity wasn’t really sure what that arrangement might entail but Mr. Levin had always been kind to her.
Chasity glanced over her shoulder one last time to confirm her brothers were busy with their drinks before easing along the bar to Mr. Levin and his big friend.
“Mr. Levin!” She smiled, glancing up at his big friend and then back down to the older man. “I didn’t know you liked Jazz Music. How lovely to see you!”
Putting her drink down on the bar top Chasity offered a hand in greeting, clasping his warmly and giving it an extra squeeze. Once the greeting was done she pushed a lock of her curled brown hair away from her ear to show a diamond stud sitting there, shimmering beautifully. Of course it was his diamond.
The Adler sister picked up her gimlet and had another sip, placing it back down she noticed Mr. Levin’s own cocktail. It had fruit in it! Her brothers would never drink anything with something more than a lime wedge or a sprig of mint, and really that was pushing it. “Mr. Levin, what a pretty drink you have. Is that a Primms?” She had never had one before. The cigarette came back up to her mouth with a delicate hand for another puff when she saw his eyes trailing the smoke.
A small blush came to Chasity’s high cheek bones and she shook her head idly. “I know, not much of a habit for a young lady like me…” She waved the hand grasping the jig frivolously. There was no excuse. Especially since her brothers didn’t really permit her to smoke. With a small sigh she changed the subject, afraid Mr. Levin would side with her brothers that this was not an acceptable past time for Chasity to practice.
“Are you here for the dancing then, Mr. Levin?”
Turning her head to look about the room she spotted an older gentleman at the bar she knew. Isidor Levin and the Adler’s had some business arrangement, it was why she had such beautiful jewelry. Chasity wasn’t really sure what that arrangement might entail but Mr. Levin had always been kind to her.
Chasity glanced over her shoulder one last time to confirm her brothers were busy with their drinks before easing along the bar to Mr. Levin and his big friend.
“Mr. Levin!” She smiled, glancing up at his big friend and then back down to the older man. “I didn’t know you liked Jazz Music. How lovely to see you!”
Putting her drink down on the bar top Chasity offered a hand in greeting, clasping his warmly and giving it an extra squeeze. Once the greeting was done she pushed a lock of her curled brown hair away from her ear to show a diamond stud sitting there, shimmering beautifully. Of course it was his diamond.
The Adler sister picked up her gimlet and had another sip, placing it back down she noticed Mr. Levin’s own cocktail. It had fruit in it! Her brothers would never drink anything with something more than a lime wedge or a sprig of mint, and really that was pushing it. “Mr. Levin, what a pretty drink you have. Is that a Primms?” She had never had one before. The cigarette came back up to her mouth with a delicate hand for another puff when she saw his eyes trailing the smoke.
A small blush came to Chasity’s high cheek bones and she shook her head idly. “I know, not much of a habit for a young lady like me…” She waved the hand grasping the jig frivolously. There was no excuse. Especially since her brothers didn’t really permit her to smoke. With a small sigh she changed the subject, afraid Mr. Levin would side with her brothers that this was not an acceptable past time for Chasity to practice.
“Are you here for the dancing then, Mr. Levin?”
Haha
((( This post was written by Tomahawk and myself @Tomahawk )))
Running low on fresh water, low on food that was not a MRE, definitely could do with a few more fresh towels or something…
Marni settled back on her haunches and looked up from her pack, hands idly repacking it as she scanned the street. Where should she go shopping? Hazel eyes drifted between a few houses. One had broken windows and obviously had been picked clean. And possibly had something living in it.
The houses on the other sides weren’t much better. She needed an apartment building. That way she’d have lots of options and could go from place to place picking as she liked.
Having made up her mind on this matter Marni sighed and brought the straps of her duffle back over her shoulders, standing with a grunt. Left or right? Hmm…
Hadn’t she passed some buildings a while ago that looked pretty upscale? Or to be more accurate looked as though they had been upscale at some point. That seemed like the best place to start.
Sauntering down the blocks and up a hill soon she was at the apartment complex and at the first building. The lower units looked pretty busted up. Doors open, windows missing… The Second floor was in better shape but even more so was the third. Typical lazy people. Looters never wanted to do the hard work to get the payoff. Well Marni was an expert bargain hunter and she knew you had to spend a lot to get a lot.
Up and up she went, shifting the strap of her bag uncomfortably as she came to the third floor of the unit. Pausing she looked down the hallway. Many of the doors were closed but one in particular caught her eye. It was padlocked.
Anyone willing to lock their shit up had something worth protecting.
Marni had figured that much out during her trek across the various states and had even acquired some gear to facilitate these entries. Most of those safe houses had been abandoned. The people dead or moved on or simply not home when she arrived, so Marni didn’t hesitate to let her duffle plop to the ground and knelt to rifle through it.
Pulling out her fence cutters (every girl’s favorite accessory) she brought the giant scissor blades to the padlock and pressed. It was a thick metal and it took a few tries before Marni had any success.
Wiping her hands on her pants before returning her fence cutter to the bag Marni waited for a long time beside the apartment door listening. Surely if anyone was inside they would have heard the padlock clink to the ground? Or the grunting and shuffling around she had done to get the thing off?
With the lack of noise or appearances of anyone else Marni tried the handle and pushed open the door, standing clear of any gun shot that might be coming her way.
Again, nothing. carefully Marni peered around the door jam to see the apartment. No bodies, dead or alive visible.
This was looking pretty good. Next was entering. No wires or booby traps as she liked to think of them… (Some people had gotten really into the ‘safe house’ situation and even put grenades or land mines and so on and so forth. All to protect their lousy saltines.)
Apparently the Padlock was the only thing keeping this safe house safe, which made Marni think that maybe it was more a backup plan rather than the main deal.
Sidling inside she closed the door behind her and listened further more. Nothing.
“Alrighty then.” She muttered, rubbing her hands together before moving into the kitchen.
Water and food was what she wanted and that was what she got. After the kitchen she went for the bathroom looking for medical supplies...Only there was a huge closet on the opposite side of the bathroom and really…
How could she say no?
Ruck slung across his shoulder, 1911 drawn but down, Robin made his way down a handful of side streets, doing his best to avoid the biters. They were a less common feature as the winter drew on, but Robin knew that the moment he became complacent, he was finished. Hair tied back, dressed in layers - including a rather handsome denim jacket with a fleece collar - and steel-toe’d work boots, Robin was dressed for success - and success in Missouri, in the winter, was survival.
Pausing at a corner to take stock, Robin eyed his watch: perhaps another five minutes before he’d arrive at his eastbound safe house, just outside of Kansas City, in Independence, Missouri. It was the least fortified, given its distance from town, but it contained a handful of supplies - food, water, books, a rifle. It would do.
Habitually Marni flipped the switch for the closet lights before remembering… “Oh yeah. No electricity…”
No worries though, she had her handy dandy flashlight and soon she was oogling over some really fantastic shoe options. A gorgeous black Jimmy Choo heel was in her hand before Marni knew it and she was running her thumb over the leather in complete absorption. Why must they be 10s?! Who had lived here? A giant!? Size 10? Really? What was this lady? A drag queen?
Robin bounded up the stairs two at a time, eager to find relative safety in his tertiary apartment. He could use a nap, and it might not hurt to use some of the water jugs to clean himself up - who knew when he’d have another chance? The sight of a clipped brass padlock lying heavy on the hallway floor stopped him dead in his tracks, however; Robin glanced over his shoulder, then back at the door. No way to tell if the intrusion was recent; he hadn’t visited the safe house in nearly three weeks. He’d been busy.
Shouldering his ruck to the floor, gently, Robin placed both hands on the handle of his 1911, moving towards the door. It was slightly ajar; he poked his head around the corner, gazing into the main room of the apartment. Seeing nobody, he quickly opened the door, glad he had oiled its hinges as he silently entered the room, gun raised.
With unwavering efficiency, Robin checked left, scanned across the room with the barrel of his gun, and then shut the door gently behind him, 1911 pointed behind the door. Nobody in the living room. He resisted the habitual urge to shout clear instead turning towards the single hallway on the other side of the room, leading to the only bedroom.
In annoyance Marni reached to put the shoe back on the shelf, the thing would never fit her size 7 foot, when a noise startled her.
“OUT,” Robin commanded, 1911 leveled on the intruder’s center of mass. “Get outta my Goddamn closet, woman!”
Looking up sharply there was a man standing at the entrance of the closet. In a pure moment of absurdity Marni looked at his feet to see if the Jimmy Choo’s would be his before instinct kicked in and she threw the Jimmy Choo with a surprising amount of force and accuracy at his face.
Surprised, Robin failed to avoid the shoe; it drove into his forehead full force, leaving a tiny gash in the very center. He swore, stumbling for a moment, but regained his footing quickly and raising his gun once more.
“Shit!” She yelped, scrambling for her Beretta in her coat pocket while her other hand clutched the flashlight tightly.
“Fuck did I say?” he asked, storming the closet and taking Marni by the wrist that had dug into her coat pocket. He hauled her out of the closet, considerably stronger, and tossed her onto the shag carpet floor of the bedroom. Robin quickly dropped to his knees, one leg planted on either side of her.
Marni had enough time to try and wrench her hand free only to throw it out in front of herself to lessen the fall. Still she flopped against the carpet and coughed before there were legs straddling her and a gun at her head. Sighing Marni lowered her face so that it was pressing against the carpet.
Met her match. Damn.
Jamming the barrel of his gun against the back of her head, Robin began to pat her down with his free hand, growling. “Think this is Goddamn open season, woman? Bustin’ padlocks off, and shit. You’re lucky this ain’t my Lister Avenue hold-up or you’d be a fuckin’ stain on the porch. You hear me? You listening? What in the fuck do you think you’re doing here?”
Tolerating the pat down she hoped he wouldn’t and or take her Beretta but thought that fairly unlikely. The man looked fairly upset about the whole...Shoe situation. Still really… She smiled into the carpet unhappily. She had gotten a good hit in before he drug her out.
“I was looking at your shoe collection!” She retorted into the carpet, her voice muffled. And his water and food collection but hopefully she’d be able to split before he realized that part.
Where was her duffle? It had slipped off her shoulder during the scuffle and was on the closet floor as well as her flashlight. Mannn! And the thing was still on, wasting batteries. She had been looking for a solar one, not to be all ‘green’ as was the fad before the whole...dead thing, but because it was truly more practical in a time like this.
Well. And she wanted to be able to say she was green even during an apocalypse... Ehem. Anyway.
She needed to get that bag back no matter what, it was her life.
“Didn’t realize anyone was still here…” She muttered uncomfortably, the man didn’t seem to care that he was heavy and pinning her face down. “Lots of people locked up and left thinking they’d come back but never did… How was I supposed to know this place actually had an occupant?”
Marni craned her neck trying to get a better look at the man in question. “You don’t look like the type to wear Jimmy Choo is all I’m saying…” Thumping her forehead back against the carpet she relaxed her body, listening acutely for some sign that she might be able to throw him off and make a dash for her things and then some how magically the door. This seemed a little unlikely but still…
Robin snorted, yanking the pistol out of her pocket and laying it on the ground, slowly filtering the rest of the knick knacks in her possession onto the floor. “Good eye,” he faux-complemented, shaking his head. Keeping the cold steel to her dome, Robin reached back, fumbling for one of her shoes briefly before yanking the laces clean out. He leaned forward, firmly planting her torso into the ground as he lay his 1911 on the carpet next to her M9, and began tying her wrists together.
“Can’t say the blue MARPAT NWUs are a solid idea for central fuckin’ Missouri, sailor - or did you just gank some poor fuck and snatch her uniform? Hope civilians might think twice before pulling the trigger on a bona fide U.S. Navy employee?” It wouldn’t be the first time he had seen similar tactics: two months into the outbreak, Robin and his temporary comrades had been duped by a gang of psychos wearing Marine BDUs.
Ugh. Another military man. They were so unpredictable. Half were full of patriotic pride and full of glee that the one thing everyone had jokingly hoped for had finally arrived (an honest to god zombie apocalypse) and the other half seemed to have gone rogue agent. It was hard to tell where this one fell though his typical teasing about the Navy made her think he still had some links to the life.
“They were mine, only ugly clothes I had left…” Not that he really cared the answer.
Once Marni’s wrists were secured - rather tightly, too - Robin picked up her Beretta; he examined the piece, nodding thoughtfully. “Not a bad tool, girlie, though nine mil’s gettin’ harder and harder to find.” Thumbing the slide release, Robin yanked the top half of the gun off and dropped it on the floor, ejecting the clip and pocketing it.
“What are you doing???” Marni demanded unhappily. “That’s MY gun! Come on! I wasn’t going to take any of your weapons! Not cool man…”
“Now, luckily for you, I’m in a bit of a hurry,” he went on, climbing to his feet. Using the nape of her peacoat, Robin hauled her across the room and propped her up against a far wall. “What I’m sayin’ is, I ain’t gonna kill ya’. See, lot of folks would - I’m sure you know that, you’re probably a smart girl.” He cocked his head, chuckling, “Then again, maybe not. Didn’t even hear me comin’.” Robin shook his head, tapping her forehead with the barrel of his gun playfully; “Well, even if you ain’t got brains, you sure are easy on the eyes. Congratulations. Seems like a lot of effort, considering the circumstances, though.”
Ignoring her complaints the man tugged her across the floor and propped her against the wall. She was relieved he wasn’t going to straight out kill her, but taking her gun and her stuff was practically leaving her for dead anyway. “Those are $600 shoes, I’ve never had enough money to own a real pair myself...I was a little in awe…” Sighing Marni tried to get her feet up under herself.
Rising to his feet, Robin moved towards the closet, hauling Marni’s duffel out into the room and unzipping it. “What have we got here? Plenty of my shit, I’m sure.”
“Not true!” Only some. A few bottles of his water, a few cans of his food, the towels from the bathroom. That was all of his she had taken (aside from the chapstick). The rest was hers, which was the two other clean-ish uniforms, socks, ammo for her beretta, ready to eat meals, a couple pocket knives, her water purification kit and her medical kit from being a corpsman.
“Seriously man, don’t take my shit. Look I wasn’t going to leave you completely fucked. Only a few waters and food…”
Her green eyes darted over her belongings, the only things she owned in the entire world, strewn over the floor. Exposed. Naked. It wasn’t right.
“Yeah?” he teased, grinning wryly. “I’m sure.” Rising to his feet, Robin bridged the gap between the two of them and hunkered down next to her, scratching his cheek with the 1911. “You’ll forgive me if, after - what - nine months of this shit, I don’t trust folks so well. Besides, this,” Robin gestured towards the slowly weeping gash on his forehead where the heel had struck him dead-on, “isn’t exactly a white fucking flag, is it?”
“Not my fault your face got in the way…” She muttered darkly, sure he’d ignore her further.
“So you want me to let you loose, I take it. I’ll put it this way: my plan was to take my shit back, leave your mags a few blocks away so you can’t put a couple rounds in my back, and leave you one of those pocket knives to cut the laces with,” Robin gestured towards her bag on the other side of the room. “You’ll need a new shoe, but uh, there are some sneakers in the closet over yonder.”
He wanted her to fuck up her laces, have to change over into tenis shoes that were several sizes too large and then go find her clip?!!? Her face must have shown the disbelief. She should have thrown the shoe harder.
Waving his hands about thoughtfully, he leaned in close and smiled - a smile that seemed almost nefarious. “Do tell, then: why should I cut you free? I ain’t in the business of trustin’ strangers, no matter how blonde and done up they are, hon’.”
Uh oh. She didn’t really like that look. Dropping her angry gaze Marni leaned away from the man. “I didn’t say trust me...I just said be fair. Those shoes are too big for my feet. I’ll be stumbling around. Take the clip and just … Untie me and lock me in before you go?”
She didn’t want to meet his gaze nor encourage any sort of ...unwanted thoughts.
Marni had always been a pretty girl, but now that she was one of the few left around who wasn’t drooling, scared to shit or completely disgustingly dirty she was practically an underwear model.
Sighing she bit her lower lip. “Look.” Her tone was pleading. “You obviously can tell I have a thing for shoes...Please please don’t make me fuck up my only pair…”
Marni looked up to see how this was hitting the man when a sound in the other room made her head jerk sharply.
“Did you shut the door behind you?” Marni hissed, squirming such that she was slightly behind the man, hoping if someone came in with a gun or a blood thirst they’d hit him first.
Robin immediately turned towards the door, staring thoughtfully. “I didn’t latch it,” he remarked idly, rising to his feet and moving towards the exit. Peeking his head around the corner, he ducked back inside and swore. “Wolf pack,” he muttered to himself, checking his 1911. “Fucking PMC cocksuckers, who taught you land nav?”
“What??” Marni looked confused but alert. “Give me back my gun.” as an after thought she added “and the use of my hands…”
“Yeah,” he replied, glancing at her. “Fat fuckin’ chance, sweetheart.”
She scowled.
After a moment, he grinned, shaking his head: “You’re serious, aren’t you?” Robin mulled it over for a moment, furrowing his brow; if he handed her the M9, there was a chance he’d just be creating a third adversary gunning for his head. However, the odds weren’t in his favor with two gunmen in the other room - and they weren’t carrying pea-shooters, either.
Relief flooded through Marni and she scrambled to get her feet and her freedom. “Thank you!” She whispered.
“Fine,” he acquiesced, picking up the Beretta and carrying it over to her. Setting it down, Robin turned her about and quickly undid the shoelaces binding her wrists together. Fumbling in the pocket of his coat for a moment, he tossed her the 9mm mag that he’d yanked out of the pistol earlier, as well as the upper half of the feeding mechanism. “I assume you can put it back together, sailor,” he quipped, moving back towards the door and glancing out; the mercs were soon to come their way. The apartment wasn’t that big.
“Like putting on a condom.” She replied, deftly sliding the pieces back together and then the magazine where it belonged.
Even from that short amount of time of having her hands tied Marni’s hands were tingling and she flexed her fingers trying to increase circulation as she stuffed the shoelace into her pocket.
“Closet,” he ordered, pointing as he sidled up behind the door to the room, flattening himself against the wall. “Come out blazin’ when you hear my signal,” he added, in a tone that left little room for argument.
Signal… Really? Marni rolled her eyes but moved to the closet with those beautiful shoes. Hard not to get distracted but with her ear peeled and her eyes leveled on the small crack in the door.
Moments later, the two mercs entered the room; Robin’s heart fluttered as the door pressed against his chest, but the first man into the room did not push any further. The two of them entered proper; the first, a blonde, clean-shaven man, the second bearded, with brown hair - both in street clothes with utility vests. They were carrying submachine guns.
Marni had a moment of panic in thinking that the man would let them find her in the closet and then escape on her own. Stupid stupid following his directions. She was just so relieved he had untied her.
“Forget to check your corners, asshole?” Robin roared, shoving the door into the man bringing up the rear; he was knocked off balance, stumbling forward, and Robin followed him to the ground. The two men squabbled with their hands for a moment before Robin managed to wrap his thick, strong fingers about the merc’s jaw, raising his head up and slamming it into the floor with a meaty thud.
Marni’s fears were quickly put aside as the man jumped out, attacking the nearest. This scuffle made his companion turn in surprise and that was all Marni needed. She cocked her beretta and stepped out, bringing her gun level with the side of his head and pulling the trigger.
The blast was disgusting and matter spattered the neighboring wall and Marni’s ears rung with the sound. Gore was splattered across her face and turning she looked at the two on the floor with a grimace and leveling the beretta at the two.
“SHOULD I SHOOT YOU TOO?” she asked way too loudly, her hearing apparently affected.
Robin glanced up from the merc he had pinned to the ground, who was no longer struggling in any significant way; the back of his head was partially caved in, blood oozing out across the carpet. Staring at Marni for a second, Robin went back to work, dismounting his prey and hauling him up into a sitting position; he wrapped his arm about the man’s neck and began to squeeze, muscles taught - and after a moment, wrenched the thug’s head to one side, breaking his neck. “Fucking blood money-takin’ prick,” he muttered, shoving the lifeless corpse onto its stomach.
Robin eyed his 1911, lying on the other side of the dead merc, and slowly rose to his feet. “You askin’ me?” he inquired, grinning. “Could’ve let them waste you, y’know. Didn’t, did I? Make a decision, sweetheart, I ain’t got all day.”
“WHAT?” She shouted again before shaking her head. The other guy was clearly dead and she lowered her gun to that it was only pointed at his knees.
Bringing a hand away from the beretta she rubbed her ear as the ringing started to subside. “Friends of yours?” Marni asked, shifting in her boots, one of which was too loose. She wanted to sit down and put her laces back on but she wasn’t totally sure the stranger wouldn’t just tie her back up. She did just kill a man in front of him with no reaction at all.
That thought brought Marni back to the realization that her face was dirty. Guck!! Wrinkling her nose Marni rubbed a palm across her cheeks which really only smeared it more.
“Somethin’ like that,” Robin replied, visibly relaxing. “Here,” he reached down, tossing her a stray water bottle that had rolled around to his side of the room; “Clean yourself up. I’m gettin’ my shit and beatin’ feet. No tellin’ who - or what - that bullet might bring to my doorstep.” Robin picked up his 1911 and left the room.
She caught the bottle easily and looked at it. Her vanity combated with the need to preserve resources. Rolling the bottle in her hand she nodded shortly at his comments and watched the man leave the room. He was right. Shooting the guy was a short term solution. Now she wouldn’t be able to take a nap or raid the closet further.
He opened up the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink, removing a flimsy particle board false bottom and yanking out a somewhat weather-worn M4, checking the magazine before slapping it back into place and shouldering the assault rifle by its strap. Robin slunk out into the hallway, keeping an eye on the stairwell as he picked up his ruck and carried it back into the kitchen; thoughtlessly, he began to stuff it with as many bottles of water and cans of food as he could manage. Once he was finished, his eyes darted towards the bedroom door, wondering whether or not he should simply abandon the woman.
The Compromise Marni came to was that she could only use a ¼ of the bottle to wipe off her face and hands with one of the uglier sweaters in the closet.
She changed quickly out of the bloody clothes and with the already besmirched sweater wiped the fronts down efficiently before folding them up and stuffing them into her bag. Next she corrected her lacing problem and shouldered her bag.
The man was still there, she could hear him rifling around in the kitchen. Uncertainty gripped Marni. Should she let him go and then leave on her own? If she hung around she had the chance of being caught by another undesirable. But she could go through the apartment even more and pick up whatever goodies he left…
But she didn’t want to be alone in a place with only one exit...Not when the lock was busted and she had just attracted all sorts of trouble with that gun shot. But she had no other way, that guy was too big. There was no way she could have wrestled him the way the stranger had with his dude.
Blinking and shaking her head Marni realized she had been standing still staring at the bedroom door for maybe a minute or more. It was quiet in the other room. Had he left while she zoned out?
When was the last time Marni slept?... She wasn’t sure.
With a sigh she pushed open the bedroom door and was startled to see the man there. Her brows arched and they stood sizing each other up.
“Well…” She reached up to adjust the straps to her pack uncomfortably. Bringing her lower lip between her teeth Marni felt awkward. “I suppose you’d want to travel with me now huh?” She smiled at her attempt of a joke. “Being such a good marksmen and all…”
“Two’s better’n one,” he remarked, rubbing his chin. “Trouble is, I don’t imagine we trust each other all that well.” Adjusting the ruck and rifle on his shoulders, Robin sighed, crossing his arms. “I ain’t the most accustomed to traveling with people I don’t fuckin’ hate, though, so it might be refreshing. There’s a reason I was tryin’ to get away from those Blackwater wannabes.” It wasn’t worth mentioning that he had just spent the better part of a year working alongside them, of course.
“I don’t really expect either of us are looking for someone to trust so much as someone to not eat us…” It seemed fair enough. And really he could handle a gun and a fist. Better to have him close to keep an eye on him rather than worrying that he might be out there.
“We could both stand somebody to watch our back, though - and at least I know you went through BCT, if nothin’ else.” Though Naval BCT wasn’t exactly hoofing it, Robin mulled, shaking his head. “I’m leavin’ town, headed east, for Waynesville and Leonard Wood. Figure maybe the Marines held out up there, even if Uncle Sam ain’t around to give ‘em orders. You know how Marines are: dumb, and prone to routine. They’re probably on fire watch at Leonard Wood, wonderin’ where brass went.”
Marni nodded. She felt torn. She had been headed to Colorado to check on her folks, but at the pace she was moving and at the rate people were dying. Marni frowned. She stood a better chance of finding her folks if she wasn’t on her own...
He chuckled ruefully, watching her for a moment. “Name’s Robin,” he offered.
“Jenkins…” Her hazel eyes flickered to the door and back. “So Leonard Wood it is then… You got a map?”
“I do,” he replied, jerking his head back to indicate his ruck. “State map, had it for ages. It ain’t a difficult trek, though: we just gotta follow seventy east ‘til we hit the national park, then cut south on highway fifty-four straight to Waynesville. You ready to go?”
“Yeah, let’s make like a baby and head out.” And with that Marni gestured to the door and hustled after Robin out of the apartment. So odd how life could turn out. One minute handling some beautiful Jimmy Choo’s and the next blowing a strangers brains out and following a different stranger in the wrong direction.
Running low on fresh water, low on food that was not a MRE, definitely could do with a few more fresh towels or something…
Marni settled back on her haunches and looked up from her pack, hands idly repacking it as she scanned the street. Where should she go shopping? Hazel eyes drifted between a few houses. One had broken windows and obviously had been picked clean. And possibly had something living in it.
The houses on the other sides weren’t much better. She needed an apartment building. That way she’d have lots of options and could go from place to place picking as she liked.
Having made up her mind on this matter Marni sighed and brought the straps of her duffle back over her shoulders, standing with a grunt. Left or right? Hmm…
Hadn’t she passed some buildings a while ago that looked pretty upscale? Or to be more accurate looked as though they had been upscale at some point. That seemed like the best place to start.
Sauntering down the blocks and up a hill soon she was at the apartment complex and at the first building. The lower units looked pretty busted up. Doors open, windows missing… The Second floor was in better shape but even more so was the third. Typical lazy people. Looters never wanted to do the hard work to get the payoff. Well Marni was an expert bargain hunter and she knew you had to spend a lot to get a lot.
Up and up she went, shifting the strap of her bag uncomfortably as she came to the third floor of the unit. Pausing she looked down the hallway. Many of the doors were closed but one in particular caught her eye. It was padlocked.
Anyone willing to lock their shit up had something worth protecting.
Marni had figured that much out during her trek across the various states and had even acquired some gear to facilitate these entries. Most of those safe houses had been abandoned. The people dead or moved on or simply not home when she arrived, so Marni didn’t hesitate to let her duffle plop to the ground and knelt to rifle through it.
Pulling out her fence cutters (every girl’s favorite accessory) she brought the giant scissor blades to the padlock and pressed. It was a thick metal and it took a few tries before Marni had any success.
Wiping her hands on her pants before returning her fence cutter to the bag Marni waited for a long time beside the apartment door listening. Surely if anyone was inside they would have heard the padlock clink to the ground? Or the grunting and shuffling around she had done to get the thing off?
With the lack of noise or appearances of anyone else Marni tried the handle and pushed open the door, standing clear of any gun shot that might be coming her way.
Again, nothing. carefully Marni peered around the door jam to see the apartment. No bodies, dead or alive visible.
This was looking pretty good. Next was entering. No wires or booby traps as she liked to think of them… (Some people had gotten really into the ‘safe house’ situation and even put grenades or land mines and so on and so forth. All to protect their lousy saltines.)
Apparently the Padlock was the only thing keeping this safe house safe, which made Marni think that maybe it was more a backup plan rather than the main deal.
Sidling inside she closed the door behind her and listened further more. Nothing.
“Alrighty then.” She muttered, rubbing her hands together before moving into the kitchen.
Water and food was what she wanted and that was what she got. After the kitchen she went for the bathroom looking for medical supplies...Only there was a huge closet on the opposite side of the bathroom and really…
How could she say no?
Ruck slung across his shoulder, 1911 drawn but down, Robin made his way down a handful of side streets, doing his best to avoid the biters. They were a less common feature as the winter drew on, but Robin knew that the moment he became complacent, he was finished. Hair tied back, dressed in layers - including a rather handsome denim jacket with a fleece collar - and steel-toe’d work boots, Robin was dressed for success - and success in Missouri, in the winter, was survival.
Pausing at a corner to take stock, Robin eyed his watch: perhaps another five minutes before he’d arrive at his eastbound safe house, just outside of Kansas City, in Independence, Missouri. It was the least fortified, given its distance from town, but it contained a handful of supplies - food, water, books, a rifle. It would do.
Habitually Marni flipped the switch for the closet lights before remembering… “Oh yeah. No electricity…”
No worries though, she had her handy dandy flashlight and soon she was oogling over some really fantastic shoe options. A gorgeous black Jimmy Choo heel was in her hand before Marni knew it and she was running her thumb over the leather in complete absorption. Why must they be 10s?! Who had lived here? A giant!? Size 10? Really? What was this lady? A drag queen?
Robin bounded up the stairs two at a time, eager to find relative safety in his tertiary apartment. He could use a nap, and it might not hurt to use some of the water jugs to clean himself up - who knew when he’d have another chance? The sight of a clipped brass padlock lying heavy on the hallway floor stopped him dead in his tracks, however; Robin glanced over his shoulder, then back at the door. No way to tell if the intrusion was recent; he hadn’t visited the safe house in nearly three weeks. He’d been busy.
Shouldering his ruck to the floor, gently, Robin placed both hands on the handle of his 1911, moving towards the door. It was slightly ajar; he poked his head around the corner, gazing into the main room of the apartment. Seeing nobody, he quickly opened the door, glad he had oiled its hinges as he silently entered the room, gun raised.
With unwavering efficiency, Robin checked left, scanned across the room with the barrel of his gun, and then shut the door gently behind him, 1911 pointed behind the door. Nobody in the living room. He resisted the habitual urge to shout clear instead turning towards the single hallway on the other side of the room, leading to the only bedroom.
In annoyance Marni reached to put the shoe back on the shelf, the thing would never fit her size 7 foot, when a noise startled her.
“OUT,” Robin commanded, 1911 leveled on the intruder’s center of mass. “Get outta my Goddamn closet, woman!”
Looking up sharply there was a man standing at the entrance of the closet. In a pure moment of absurdity Marni looked at his feet to see if the Jimmy Choo’s would be his before instinct kicked in and she threw the Jimmy Choo with a surprising amount of force and accuracy at his face.
Surprised, Robin failed to avoid the shoe; it drove into his forehead full force, leaving a tiny gash in the very center. He swore, stumbling for a moment, but regained his footing quickly and raising his gun once more.
“Shit!” She yelped, scrambling for her Beretta in her coat pocket while her other hand clutched the flashlight tightly.
“Fuck did I say?” he asked, storming the closet and taking Marni by the wrist that had dug into her coat pocket. He hauled her out of the closet, considerably stronger, and tossed her onto the shag carpet floor of the bedroom. Robin quickly dropped to his knees, one leg planted on either side of her.
Marni had enough time to try and wrench her hand free only to throw it out in front of herself to lessen the fall. Still she flopped against the carpet and coughed before there were legs straddling her and a gun at her head. Sighing Marni lowered her face so that it was pressing against the carpet.
Met her match. Damn.
Jamming the barrel of his gun against the back of her head, Robin began to pat her down with his free hand, growling. “Think this is Goddamn open season, woman? Bustin’ padlocks off, and shit. You’re lucky this ain’t my Lister Avenue hold-up or you’d be a fuckin’ stain on the porch. You hear me? You listening? What in the fuck do you think you’re doing here?”
Tolerating the pat down she hoped he wouldn’t and or take her Beretta but thought that fairly unlikely. The man looked fairly upset about the whole...Shoe situation. Still really… She smiled into the carpet unhappily. She had gotten a good hit in before he drug her out.
“I was looking at your shoe collection!” She retorted into the carpet, her voice muffled. And his water and food collection but hopefully she’d be able to split before he realized that part.
Where was her duffle? It had slipped off her shoulder during the scuffle and was on the closet floor as well as her flashlight. Mannn! And the thing was still on, wasting batteries. She had been looking for a solar one, not to be all ‘green’ as was the fad before the whole...dead thing, but because it was truly more practical in a time like this.
Well. And she wanted to be able to say she was green even during an apocalypse... Ehem. Anyway.
She needed to get that bag back no matter what, it was her life.
“Didn’t realize anyone was still here…” She muttered uncomfortably, the man didn’t seem to care that he was heavy and pinning her face down. “Lots of people locked up and left thinking they’d come back but never did… How was I supposed to know this place actually had an occupant?”
Marni craned her neck trying to get a better look at the man in question. “You don’t look like the type to wear Jimmy Choo is all I’m saying…” Thumping her forehead back against the carpet she relaxed her body, listening acutely for some sign that she might be able to throw him off and make a dash for her things and then some how magically the door. This seemed a little unlikely but still…
Robin snorted, yanking the pistol out of her pocket and laying it on the ground, slowly filtering the rest of the knick knacks in her possession onto the floor. “Good eye,” he faux-complemented, shaking his head. Keeping the cold steel to her dome, Robin reached back, fumbling for one of her shoes briefly before yanking the laces clean out. He leaned forward, firmly planting her torso into the ground as he lay his 1911 on the carpet next to her M9, and began tying her wrists together.
“Can’t say the blue MARPAT NWUs are a solid idea for central fuckin’ Missouri, sailor - or did you just gank some poor fuck and snatch her uniform? Hope civilians might think twice before pulling the trigger on a bona fide U.S. Navy employee?” It wouldn’t be the first time he had seen similar tactics: two months into the outbreak, Robin and his temporary comrades had been duped by a gang of psychos wearing Marine BDUs.
Ugh. Another military man. They were so unpredictable. Half were full of patriotic pride and full of glee that the one thing everyone had jokingly hoped for had finally arrived (an honest to god zombie apocalypse) and the other half seemed to have gone rogue agent. It was hard to tell where this one fell though his typical teasing about the Navy made her think he still had some links to the life.
“They were mine, only ugly clothes I had left…” Not that he really cared the answer.
Once Marni’s wrists were secured - rather tightly, too - Robin picked up her Beretta; he examined the piece, nodding thoughtfully. “Not a bad tool, girlie, though nine mil’s gettin’ harder and harder to find.” Thumbing the slide release, Robin yanked the top half of the gun off and dropped it on the floor, ejecting the clip and pocketing it.
“What are you doing???” Marni demanded unhappily. “That’s MY gun! Come on! I wasn’t going to take any of your weapons! Not cool man…”
“Now, luckily for you, I’m in a bit of a hurry,” he went on, climbing to his feet. Using the nape of her peacoat, Robin hauled her across the room and propped her up against a far wall. “What I’m sayin’ is, I ain’t gonna kill ya’. See, lot of folks would - I’m sure you know that, you’re probably a smart girl.” He cocked his head, chuckling, “Then again, maybe not. Didn’t even hear me comin’.” Robin shook his head, tapping her forehead with the barrel of his gun playfully; “Well, even if you ain’t got brains, you sure are easy on the eyes. Congratulations. Seems like a lot of effort, considering the circumstances, though.”
Ignoring her complaints the man tugged her across the floor and propped her against the wall. She was relieved he wasn’t going to straight out kill her, but taking her gun and her stuff was practically leaving her for dead anyway. “Those are $600 shoes, I’ve never had enough money to own a real pair myself...I was a little in awe…” Sighing Marni tried to get her feet up under herself.
Rising to his feet, Robin moved towards the closet, hauling Marni’s duffel out into the room and unzipping it. “What have we got here? Plenty of my shit, I’m sure.”
“Not true!” Only some. A few bottles of his water, a few cans of his food, the towels from the bathroom. That was all of his she had taken (aside from the chapstick). The rest was hers, which was the two other clean-ish uniforms, socks, ammo for her beretta, ready to eat meals, a couple pocket knives, her water purification kit and her medical kit from being a corpsman.
“Seriously man, don’t take my shit. Look I wasn’t going to leave you completely fucked. Only a few waters and food…”
Her green eyes darted over her belongings, the only things she owned in the entire world, strewn over the floor. Exposed. Naked. It wasn’t right.
“Yeah?” he teased, grinning wryly. “I’m sure.” Rising to his feet, Robin bridged the gap between the two of them and hunkered down next to her, scratching his cheek with the 1911. “You’ll forgive me if, after - what - nine months of this shit, I don’t trust folks so well. Besides, this,” Robin gestured towards the slowly weeping gash on his forehead where the heel had struck him dead-on, “isn’t exactly a white fucking flag, is it?”
“Not my fault your face got in the way…” She muttered darkly, sure he’d ignore her further.
“So you want me to let you loose, I take it. I’ll put it this way: my plan was to take my shit back, leave your mags a few blocks away so you can’t put a couple rounds in my back, and leave you one of those pocket knives to cut the laces with,” Robin gestured towards her bag on the other side of the room. “You’ll need a new shoe, but uh, there are some sneakers in the closet over yonder.”
He wanted her to fuck up her laces, have to change over into tenis shoes that were several sizes too large and then go find her clip?!!? Her face must have shown the disbelief. She should have thrown the shoe harder.
Waving his hands about thoughtfully, he leaned in close and smiled - a smile that seemed almost nefarious. “Do tell, then: why should I cut you free? I ain’t in the business of trustin’ strangers, no matter how blonde and done up they are, hon’.”
Uh oh. She didn’t really like that look. Dropping her angry gaze Marni leaned away from the man. “I didn’t say trust me...I just said be fair. Those shoes are too big for my feet. I’ll be stumbling around. Take the clip and just … Untie me and lock me in before you go?”
She didn’t want to meet his gaze nor encourage any sort of ...unwanted thoughts.
Marni had always been a pretty girl, but now that she was one of the few left around who wasn’t drooling, scared to shit or completely disgustingly dirty she was practically an underwear model.
Sighing she bit her lower lip. “Look.” Her tone was pleading. “You obviously can tell I have a thing for shoes...Please please don’t make me fuck up my only pair…”
Marni looked up to see how this was hitting the man when a sound in the other room made her head jerk sharply.
“Did you shut the door behind you?” Marni hissed, squirming such that she was slightly behind the man, hoping if someone came in with a gun or a blood thirst they’d hit him first.
Robin immediately turned towards the door, staring thoughtfully. “I didn’t latch it,” he remarked idly, rising to his feet and moving towards the exit. Peeking his head around the corner, he ducked back inside and swore. “Wolf pack,” he muttered to himself, checking his 1911. “Fucking PMC cocksuckers, who taught you land nav?”
“What??” Marni looked confused but alert. “Give me back my gun.” as an after thought she added “and the use of my hands…”
“Yeah,” he replied, glancing at her. “Fat fuckin’ chance, sweetheart.”
She scowled.
After a moment, he grinned, shaking his head: “You’re serious, aren’t you?” Robin mulled it over for a moment, furrowing his brow; if he handed her the M9, there was a chance he’d just be creating a third adversary gunning for his head. However, the odds weren’t in his favor with two gunmen in the other room - and they weren’t carrying pea-shooters, either.
Relief flooded through Marni and she scrambled to get her feet and her freedom. “Thank you!” She whispered.
“Fine,” he acquiesced, picking up the Beretta and carrying it over to her. Setting it down, Robin turned her about and quickly undid the shoelaces binding her wrists together. Fumbling in the pocket of his coat for a moment, he tossed her the 9mm mag that he’d yanked out of the pistol earlier, as well as the upper half of the feeding mechanism. “I assume you can put it back together, sailor,” he quipped, moving back towards the door and glancing out; the mercs were soon to come their way. The apartment wasn’t that big.
“Like putting on a condom.” She replied, deftly sliding the pieces back together and then the magazine where it belonged.
Even from that short amount of time of having her hands tied Marni’s hands were tingling and she flexed her fingers trying to increase circulation as she stuffed the shoelace into her pocket.
“Closet,” he ordered, pointing as he sidled up behind the door to the room, flattening himself against the wall. “Come out blazin’ when you hear my signal,” he added, in a tone that left little room for argument.
Signal… Really? Marni rolled her eyes but moved to the closet with those beautiful shoes. Hard not to get distracted but with her ear peeled and her eyes leveled on the small crack in the door.
Moments later, the two mercs entered the room; Robin’s heart fluttered as the door pressed against his chest, but the first man into the room did not push any further. The two of them entered proper; the first, a blonde, clean-shaven man, the second bearded, with brown hair - both in street clothes with utility vests. They were carrying submachine guns.
Marni had a moment of panic in thinking that the man would let them find her in the closet and then escape on her own. Stupid stupid following his directions. She was just so relieved he had untied her.
“Forget to check your corners, asshole?” Robin roared, shoving the door into the man bringing up the rear; he was knocked off balance, stumbling forward, and Robin followed him to the ground. The two men squabbled with their hands for a moment before Robin managed to wrap his thick, strong fingers about the merc’s jaw, raising his head up and slamming it into the floor with a meaty thud.
Marni’s fears were quickly put aside as the man jumped out, attacking the nearest. This scuffle made his companion turn in surprise and that was all Marni needed. She cocked her beretta and stepped out, bringing her gun level with the side of his head and pulling the trigger.
The blast was disgusting and matter spattered the neighboring wall and Marni’s ears rung with the sound. Gore was splattered across her face and turning she looked at the two on the floor with a grimace and leveling the beretta at the two.
“SHOULD I SHOOT YOU TOO?” she asked way too loudly, her hearing apparently affected.
Robin glanced up from the merc he had pinned to the ground, who was no longer struggling in any significant way; the back of his head was partially caved in, blood oozing out across the carpet. Staring at Marni for a second, Robin went back to work, dismounting his prey and hauling him up into a sitting position; he wrapped his arm about the man’s neck and began to squeeze, muscles taught - and after a moment, wrenched the thug’s head to one side, breaking his neck. “Fucking blood money-takin’ prick,” he muttered, shoving the lifeless corpse onto its stomach.
Robin eyed his 1911, lying on the other side of the dead merc, and slowly rose to his feet. “You askin’ me?” he inquired, grinning. “Could’ve let them waste you, y’know. Didn’t, did I? Make a decision, sweetheart, I ain’t got all day.”
“WHAT?” She shouted again before shaking her head. The other guy was clearly dead and she lowered her gun to that it was only pointed at his knees.
Bringing a hand away from the beretta she rubbed her ear as the ringing started to subside. “Friends of yours?” Marni asked, shifting in her boots, one of which was too loose. She wanted to sit down and put her laces back on but she wasn’t totally sure the stranger wouldn’t just tie her back up. She did just kill a man in front of him with no reaction at all.
That thought brought Marni back to the realization that her face was dirty. Guck!! Wrinkling her nose Marni rubbed a palm across her cheeks which really only smeared it more.
“Somethin’ like that,” Robin replied, visibly relaxing. “Here,” he reached down, tossing her a stray water bottle that had rolled around to his side of the room; “Clean yourself up. I’m gettin’ my shit and beatin’ feet. No tellin’ who - or what - that bullet might bring to my doorstep.” Robin picked up his 1911 and left the room.
She caught the bottle easily and looked at it. Her vanity combated with the need to preserve resources. Rolling the bottle in her hand she nodded shortly at his comments and watched the man leave the room. He was right. Shooting the guy was a short term solution. Now she wouldn’t be able to take a nap or raid the closet further.
He opened up the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink, removing a flimsy particle board false bottom and yanking out a somewhat weather-worn M4, checking the magazine before slapping it back into place and shouldering the assault rifle by its strap. Robin slunk out into the hallway, keeping an eye on the stairwell as he picked up his ruck and carried it back into the kitchen; thoughtlessly, he began to stuff it with as many bottles of water and cans of food as he could manage. Once he was finished, his eyes darted towards the bedroom door, wondering whether or not he should simply abandon the woman.
The Compromise Marni came to was that she could only use a ¼ of the bottle to wipe off her face and hands with one of the uglier sweaters in the closet.
She changed quickly out of the bloody clothes and with the already besmirched sweater wiped the fronts down efficiently before folding them up and stuffing them into her bag. Next she corrected her lacing problem and shouldered her bag.
The man was still there, she could hear him rifling around in the kitchen. Uncertainty gripped Marni. Should she let him go and then leave on her own? If she hung around she had the chance of being caught by another undesirable. But she could go through the apartment even more and pick up whatever goodies he left…
But she didn’t want to be alone in a place with only one exit...Not when the lock was busted and she had just attracted all sorts of trouble with that gun shot. But she had no other way, that guy was too big. There was no way she could have wrestled him the way the stranger had with his dude.
Blinking and shaking her head Marni realized she had been standing still staring at the bedroom door for maybe a minute or more. It was quiet in the other room. Had he left while she zoned out?
When was the last time Marni slept?... She wasn’t sure.
With a sigh she pushed open the bedroom door and was startled to see the man there. Her brows arched and they stood sizing each other up.
“Well…” She reached up to adjust the straps to her pack uncomfortably. Bringing her lower lip between her teeth Marni felt awkward. “I suppose you’d want to travel with me now huh?” She smiled at her attempt of a joke. “Being such a good marksmen and all…”
“Two’s better’n one,” he remarked, rubbing his chin. “Trouble is, I don’t imagine we trust each other all that well.” Adjusting the ruck and rifle on his shoulders, Robin sighed, crossing his arms. “I ain’t the most accustomed to traveling with people I don’t fuckin’ hate, though, so it might be refreshing. There’s a reason I was tryin’ to get away from those Blackwater wannabes.” It wasn’t worth mentioning that he had just spent the better part of a year working alongside them, of course.
“I don’t really expect either of us are looking for someone to trust so much as someone to not eat us…” It seemed fair enough. And really he could handle a gun and a fist. Better to have him close to keep an eye on him rather than worrying that he might be out there.
“We could both stand somebody to watch our back, though - and at least I know you went through BCT, if nothin’ else.” Though Naval BCT wasn’t exactly hoofing it, Robin mulled, shaking his head. “I’m leavin’ town, headed east, for Waynesville and Leonard Wood. Figure maybe the Marines held out up there, even if Uncle Sam ain’t around to give ‘em orders. You know how Marines are: dumb, and prone to routine. They’re probably on fire watch at Leonard Wood, wonderin’ where brass went.”
Marni nodded. She felt torn. She had been headed to Colorado to check on her folks, but at the pace she was moving and at the rate people were dying. Marni frowned. She stood a better chance of finding her folks if she wasn’t on her own...
He chuckled ruefully, watching her for a moment. “Name’s Robin,” he offered.
“Jenkins…” Her hazel eyes flickered to the door and back. “So Leonard Wood it is then… You got a map?”
“I do,” he replied, jerking his head back to indicate his ruck. “State map, had it for ages. It ain’t a difficult trek, though: we just gotta follow seventy east ‘til we hit the national park, then cut south on highway fifty-four straight to Waynesville. You ready to go?”
“Yeah, let’s make like a baby and head out.” And with that Marni gestured to the door and hustled after Robin out of the apartment. So odd how life could turn out. One minute handling some beautiful Jimmy Choo’s and the next blowing a strangers brains out and following a different stranger in the wrong direction.
© 2007-2024