wickedchouette | (no subject)

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[When the car radiator overheats for the third time in a week, Alfie takes it as a sign that it's finally time for more than just another quick tune-up.

They're in a deserted area, which is both good and bad. On the one hand, most of the dangerous gangs are still in urban areas, the way they had been before the world had gone to shit. Out here in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by miles and miles of fields with only the occasional small copse of trees, they're not likely to run into anyone at all, much less anyone dangerous. But on the other hand, if they do come across anyone, there won't be anywhere to run to or hide. Alfie, as always, has his pistol tucked into his coat pocket, and they have more weapons stashed away in the trunk. But they're a small group - no match for the bigger gangs with armored trucks and heavy artillery. If they meet one of those, they'll be slaughtered.

With his sleeves rolled up and the hood of the car open, he leans in with his tools, carefully tinkering away. He can't afford to make a mistake here - replacement parts are rare and precious. When he hears footsteps behind him, he doesn't dare look away from his work as he says sharply:]

Stay back. You don't want hot steam to the face.

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[ Hold on, she's absolutely distracted by the energy bar. She squeaks happily and is very careful to eat it without dropping any of it.

But she does pause about halfway through her piece, glancing up at Alfie. ]

... I know you will. [ She sighs heavily, though, way too heavily for a girl her age. ] I just don't want to make you sad.

[He rubs a thumb along the back of her hand.]

Telling you about your mum makes me happy.

[ Her grip tightens on his hand. ] I don't remember her very well. I remember she was pretty, and... and she used to sing to me. After I had nightmares.

But that's kind of all. I wish I could remember more.

Do you remember that her hair looked just like yours?

No! [ She says, smiling a little. ] She had long, pretty hair. Mine is all short and gets in my face all the time. Does it really look that way?

It's the same color. That's more telling than length.

Ohhh.

... Was she an elf, too?

She wasn't. She was human.

Oh. Okay. [ She thinks about that. She really needs to ask Royce what elves are like, but he doesn't seem to like to talk about that, either. ] Was she nice? Dad loved her a lot, I know.

When I'd come home from a late night in the office, more often than not, she'd show up at my doorstep with a home-cooked meal. It didn't matter how late it was. She stayed up until one in the morning one night, waiting to bring me a plate of macaroni.

She did love your dad, and she loved you. Goodness, I remember the day you were born. She brought you home and couldn't take her eyes off of you.

[ Mercy is practically beaming. She does sound nice, and she's so glad. Mostly, she's glad because even if she can't remember, Royce and Alfie do. And Mercy thinks they deserve nice memories. ]

I love her, too. Even though she isn't here and I don't remember her very much, I do. [ Mercy pushes her hair out of her face. ] I'm glad she was nice.

[ A beat, and then, hesitantly: ] Do you think she's watching us?

[Honestly, he doesn't know. Talk of the afterlife has started to be a depressing thing for him. But he'll be damned if he lets Mercy get roped into that kind of thinking.]

You know when we sit in the back of the car and look at the shapes in the clouds?

I think she's forming them for us.

[ She likes the sound of that a lot. She'd almost been expecting a different sort of answer, just because Alfie and Royce are such practical people. ]

I like that. [ Mercy tells Alfie, smiling. She feels sad, a bit, but in a weird sort of good way. ] Cause it means she's still with us.

Maybe we could get Dad to watch the clouds with us sometime? Just so he can... you know, um. Say hello again, I guess.

[Alfie is looking a bit melancholy, though he's gamely trying to hide it. He knows it might not work - Mercy is perceptive, and she knows him well - but a lot of his feelings are too much to put on the shoulders of a seven-year-old.]

Yeah. You rope him in, and he'll go along with it.

Yeah. [ She knows. She's watching his face closely, and he's good at hiding it, but Mercy spends all of her time with both him and Royce. She knows when a topic is a little too much, which is why she reaches to take Alfie's hand again, holding it tightly. ]

I'm glad you have nice memories of her. [ Mercy offers softly, smiling a little. ]

[He gives her hand a squeeze.]

I do wish you had more, sweetheart.

[ She nods, but doesn't ask any other questions about her mother. It's okay, this'll last her for a while. She'll be imagining Gwen cooking and playfully scolding Alfie at his front door for the next few weeks. Instead, she opens her mouth to say something else, and then stops completely, turning to look into the grass.

It's rustling. Just slightly. She hears... footsteps?

Mercy's expression shifts, and she tugs at Alfie's hand, trying to pull him back. She doesn't say anything - instead, she pulls her hand away so she can signal danger to Alfie, the way Royce taught the two of them to do. ]

[Alfie stops immediately, going stock-still.]

Which way do we go?

[She's the one with the good hearing; the good eyesight. He'll follow her lead, here.

With one hand grabbing onto hers again, the other snakes into his pocket, taking hold of the gun.]

Edited 2016-06-24 15:28 (UTC)

[ She takes his hand tightly, yanking him back. Something is coming towards them, from the direction they've been driving. Mercy isn't sure what it is, but it sounds bigger than an animal, and she's not going to risk it.

Of course, the noise gets louder, the rustling in the grass, and now Mercy is certain that Alfie can hear it. She looks frightened - mostly because the footsteps coming from different directions.

Mercy grips the little pocket knife she has, keeping it hidden. ]

I think we're surrounded. [ Mercy whispers, upset and pressing close to Alfie. ] I'm sorry, I should've been paying more attention.

It's not your fault.

[She might have the eyes and ears, but he's the adult. He pulls out the gun, flicking off the safety.]

I want all of you to stay back.

[He's raising his voice partly so whoever is approaching them can hear, and partly so Royce can hear and know that Alfie is aware of the situation. They're still pretty close to the car, so he's sure Royce has sensed the potential danger now too.]

I've got a gun that I have used many, many times, and you do not wanna push this with me. Turn around and go.

[ Royce is listening, waiting, trying to find the men so he can get rid of them before they even crawl out. He's found one, by the time Alfie speaks up, and he doesn't hesitate to slit the man's throat, dropping him down into the grass before moving to the next one.

Thing is, there's a lot of them. And the others are not stupid enough to go alone - they're in pairs, inching in. It happens fast.

A woman and a man come out from hiding, both holding guns. To the left and right of them, the other pairs come out - obviously not important enough to hold guns, but fairly armed with baseball bats and crowbars. The women aims her gun at Alfie, and the man aims his at Mercy. ]

I think you're a little outnumbered. [ The woman says. ] You're with the car we couldn't find last night, aren't you?

[The only comfort here, to Alfie, is that they probably just want supplies - and that if they're actually here to take someone, it'll most likely be him. There are plenty of reasons to kidnap people with the world the way it is, and some are worse than others. The most common reason is for slave labor, and a full-grown, mostly able-bodied (though he knows they'll have noticed his cane) man is a better bet for that than a little girl.

Time to break out his negotiation skills. He looks at both of them levelly.]

Let's talk about what you're after here.

[ Mercy curls against Alfie, watching from behind his leg. She hasn't given up on her knife quite yet - she's scared, but she's going to fight if she has to. ]

The car, mostly. [ The man says, shrugging. He glances at the woman. She's got her eyes on Mercy, now, who scowls at the woman with all the venom she can muster. ] How old is the girl?

[It's a tough question, because he doesn't know if younger or older makes her more appealing to them. But he can't hesitate, because then they'll assume he's lying no matter what he says.]

Seven.

[Young enough to be mostly useless for labor, old enough that she couldn't be made to forget her real family and old life so easily.]

The car, now - the car's a valuable commodity.

I don't think you're really in any position to negotiate at all. [ The woman says, gesturing. One of the pairs of men on the right scoot forward, weapons at the ready. ] But I'll make you a deal.

[ The man raises his eyebrows. The woman ignores him. ] Give us the girl and you can keep your car and supplies. And your lives, as well.

[ A different man, one with a baseball bat, speaks up: ] But the car was what we came out here for! Mr. Adams don't need more girls --

[ The man with the gun barely even hesitates, just reaches to whip the other across the face. Baseball bat guy yelps, holding his face, but goes quiet. Gun Man gestures at Gun Woman. ] We do what the Boss says. She knows what Mr. Adams is looking for.

Edited 2016-06-24 16:30 (UTC)