orangetoughguy | log post II

[The plan so far is that both Mr. White and Mr. Orange (the original editions) need to get the fuck out of this alley way and get the fuck home. How well, looks like the other Lawrence Dimick with all the fucks he doesn't give need to die.]

We're gettin' out of here.

[Brown eyes dart this way and that way. He shifts his weight, hardly taking a step. The clone catches though.]

That how you're gonna go down? Suicide by cop?

[Larry sneers at this accusation. God does he hate this motherfucker. He whispers to Freddy as low as he can:] on the count of three, we make a break for it. One. Two... Th--

[BANG. BA-BANG! The old bear backs up and shoves at Freddy.]

Fuck you, asshole.

[Freddy growls at the suited Larry. It's not just bringing up the past, it's bringing up his secret in a public place. Who knows who might overhear them? Fortunately the market doesn't look like the kind of joint to have tons of security cameras everywhere. With that considered, they could easily leave this fucker down in the alley. The kid's bristling but he's listening too. One. Two. Three?]

Shit!

[Shoved and shoved, he's making a backwards shuffle, not at all willing to take his eyes off the fake Dimick because that's what it is, a fake Lawrence Dimick. Freddy squeezes off two rounds too for the shoulders and limbs. He doesn't want to kill the guy outright...what happens to his Larry if they do?]

[Consider his ballsiness as well as specifics to be another nail in the coffin. Larry doesn't care how he goes down he is just going to. The double fires second buying enough time for Larry to scrape by and avoid a direct hit or nasty gash. Two Guns is on target getting the clone in the chest.]

Stay down.

[There he is, falling backward and coughing. The clones blood looks unnatural in the yellowed lighting of the alley way. Looks like he'll be as good as dead.]

Come on.

[Mr. White is still in action. They gotta get running. Freddy's still not up to snuff.]

[Larry's down. But it's not Larry right? It shouldn't feel weird.

Will it take only one bullet? Freddy's not too sure. He's still got his gun up ready to fire off another round if that bastard gets up. Larry seems to think he won't or maybe they shouldn't stick around to find out. Fair enough. The kid doesn't speak but he nods his head, hand on the old man to gain better footing as they scramble outta there.]

[It shouldn't feel weird. By the same logic Larry shouldn't be in a situation where he had to kill himself. Except clearly this was not himself.]

Come on, tough guy.

[The longer the stay, the more weird it will feel. Is this considered payback to Joe? Fuck he shot himself. What if this mean he dies? Larry doesn't say anything out loud but feels for a wound. There's nothing there. To the car, to the car, to the motherfucking car. He loops his arm around Freddy's back. Deja vu is enough to kill a man alone right now.]

[They must be riding the same thought train because Freddy's feeling Larry's chest for any blossom of hot blood that isn't already coming from his forehead. So far so good. Deja vu can go screw itself. The kid rushes along under the old man's wing. Into the car.]

Shit let's go.

[He utters. Adrenaline's kept the sharpest pain at bay, Freddy knows it'll come back like a lightning strike soon. Once inside he can finally ask.] Are you okay?

[He can hear the question. Right now Lawrence Dimick the original is all action. His mind is not processing as quick and keenly. Car unlocked, into the car. For a moment he considers putting Freddy in the back seat. No way. No way in hell. It's not the same. Instead he motions to ease the man through the driver's side door, whatever's easiest to get them away. Once he's in, Larry is hardly seated before he starts the engine. Door shut they drive.]

I'm okay.

[Nodding, his breath erratic only with the haste they've taken. The image in his head though of him laying in an alley. Fucking eerie. Here they are though.]

You?

[Eyes flick from the road to Freddy. No bloody? He squints a second. Something's trickling into his eyes. Might be sweat.]

I'm fine.

[Without his tea but alive therefore the loss of his tea is pretty minimal by comparison. Seeing that blood and sweat the kid doesn't even ask or tell the old man he's going to help fix him up whether he likes it or not. Freddy removes his top most flannel layer to dab a rolled sleeve along Larry's forehead. Sorry dude, he doesn't keep a hanky on him unlike some guys. Freddy's also careful not to obstruct his view of the road.]

[Larry's not expecting the touch but he doesn't flinch. Calming down he's aware of the ache at his head. It must be bleeding. Stevie Nicks is singing through the radio:]

All your life you've never seen a woman taken by the wind. Would you stay if she promised you heaven? Will you ever win?

[One hand on the wheel, the other fumbles to perch on Freddy's knee.]

Your gut?

It's okay.

[He nods, meaning it hurts as predictably as a phantom pain should after a brief chase and shootout. But Freddy's sides aren't splitting, he's not bleeding to death or passing out. He's been worse before.]

He had your gun.

[Freddy remarks not out of curiosity but out of concern. They should get it back regardless of why that guy had it in the first place. This requires going back.]

[Rubbing the knee now, not much at all. The kid should have took the dash first. Poor man. A run probably didn't help one little bit. Getting tea was supposed to be part of the remedy. Shit.]

Fuck.

[Larry's heart drops knowing that it is likely still in that motherfuckering clone's hand.]

Fucking shit.

[There could be prints. There's a body. He left it there like a fucking rookie. Keeping both of their skins was on his mind. Too late now.]

Turn around, roll by the scene.

[The market people will probably be hanging around but the police force in this neighborhood is considerably understaffed. They have the opportunity to see and gauge their chances, this time they'll be prepared.]

[Is he serious? Blame the adrenaline for making his gaze a few nasty degrees away a glare.]

Are you sure?

[Larry doesn't wait for an answer. Already his head is swimming with the prospect of the man hunt that will go on. He makes a u-turn as smooth as he can manage.]

We see lights then I'm goin'.

[At a decent pace. Speeding is a dead giveaway. Both hands on the wheel now.]

How else are we gonna get your gun back?

[How else are they gonna make sure that other guy is down? What if he's already gotten back up? Then they'll have to watch their backs for sure. What if there's more of them? The only way to know is to look. Larry's head wound isn't lethal and Freddy's gut...well...he'll endure it just to see this through.]

Gotcha. [He nods over the lights remark. Freddy knows exactly what he means.]

If we leave I don't.

[Bad on account of being down one gun and have it connected to a murder, even if it is of himself. On the other account that's evidence for cases back in their world lost forever, that's good. But they're best in Larry's possession end of story.]

...I should go. You stay here.

[If they get caught, let the old man get caught. Besides, he could say it's a dispute with his brother...some shit. Whatever the case is, he can still see pain on Freddy's face.]

No.

[That's a simple answer innit? He looks Larry square in the eyes over his response. Is the old man gonna refute it, just because Larry's course of action almost a year ago helped get the kid shot?]

I'm goin' with you.

[Sure enough. They didn't get very far. Larry rolls slowly.]

Freddy.

[Larry tries to find the right words.]

Is that such a good idea?

[Who has the pain from an old wound? Maybe they're fussing over absolutely nothing. Maybe there aren't any cops. Slow now.]

I ain't invincible and neither are you.

[Freddy states like that's all they really need to settle this matter and just get back to canvasing the alley. He attempts to avoid letting Larry add more too.]

Go around the back, they got some people out front. No cops.

[Sure enough two employees and some shoppers who've vacated are milling around the front trying to figure out what happened. In the side alley there's a white plastic sheet covering a certain downed Dimick.]

[He listens but strongly disagrees. If Freddy is caught because he can't keep up or falls behind somehow, the old man would never forgive himself. Being in the car would give him the best chance at a get away.]

Rubberneckers.

[The old man slams a paw against the steering wheel in frustration. Around the back they go.]

Kid. [He swallows.] You coming?

[The paw slamming doesn't faze him as much as that question does. Why does he have to ask? Freddy's in pain enough as it is and that makes Larry's concern legitimate. He might only slow them down, thus endangering Larry as well as himself. That's not okay. Swallow your pride, Newendyke.]

...I'll cover you from the car.

[The better to have a getaway vehicle at the ready, the better to fire from a distance while the other inspects up close. However!] Off the lights and bring the car closer to the alley.

[Is that smart and a compromise?]

[That's more like it.]

Okay. You get any trouble on your end, honk the horn.

[Closer they go, practically blocking that way out of the alley. If Larry is in a bind, he'll head directly to the car. Maybe that'll occur to the kid on his own.]

I won't be gone long at all. Quick in, quick out.

[Just in case though, he'll take his own gun.]

Two minutes tops.

[Slowly he opens the door and leaves it ajar as he heads back into the alley.]

Fine.

[Freddy says with the tone of a petulant rookie who does know what's better for both of them but doesn't want to have to like it.]

I'm timing you.

[He adds with a look to Larry that says he means it. Well, almost. But he's going to fucking blow their way out of dodge of he has to.]

[Their company at the end of the alleyway complicates this in so many ways. One of them not letting the old man even blow a kiss in the dark.]

Not too bad so far.

[And he's off. Even though he said two minutes he is taking his time getting there. The people standing around they're backing off, unsure of what to make of it all.]

Anybody call a doctor or somethin'?

[That's to the shitheads there. Just another concerned citizen. Keep cool. Make it like you're comin' on over. Although seeing the man who looks like the man under the tarp gets far more hands off action. Hah. How about that.

Feeling pretty good, Larry kneels. Sticking out of the tarp is the hand holding the gun he's looking for.]

[Freddy's watching, green eagle eyes taking in the scene and noting every single civilian, noting every potential fuck up. All the while he's keeping track of Larry's movements and the white sheet. If it gets up in a split second Freddy's gonna have his gun drawn in half that.]

[Like taking candy from a--as the old man is reaching for the gun, the other hand grabs a hold of his wrist. Through the thin tarp he can make out enough of that bloody mug. The relief of committing murder is replaced with more aggravation, can't the fucker die?]

Naugh so easy there.

[The thick muddy mouthed words are coming from the clone. Larry, holding the gun wrestles back. His hands are cold, not to mention wet with blood. Great.]

Fucking piece of shit.

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