orangetoughguy | log post II

[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.

[Shit what's taking time now? Freddy's watching and from here he sees there's something keeping Larry against the creature. Figures. He steps out of the car and aims at the form under the tarp. Freddy doesn't say a word because he knows when he fires the shot Larry will already have an idea of what to do. The gunshot's gonna attract a crowd so the old man better fucking Speedy Gonzales his way back to the car. Aim and...

Fire. He shoots at the wrist attempting to attach itself to Lawrence Dimick.]

[BANG! Oh shit. The wrist pretty much is demolished. Larry ducks even though he knows Freddy won't be firing again. Making like a Kenyan Olympian down the alley, he hauls ass back to the car gun in hand. The bystanders have more to be fucking confused over.]

Get [pant] in [pant pant] the car. [Maybe he'll be able to hear him.]

Edited 2011-05-19 06:31 (UTC)

Ride shotgun.

[Orange replies, not quite tit for tat but if there's one thing this kid knows how to do it's drive a car like it's getting chased by the cops. Who better to steer than Freddy Newendyke who completed EVOC with flying colors and only a few flying cones. Also he's not leaving room for Larry to argue as he takes the driver's side.]

[Zero arguing. That's the beauty of the two of them in a time of crisis they end up syncing up. He slips into the passenger seat and begins to clean the gun...except from the looks of it, the splatter on his shirt isn't going to be worth cleaning anything.]

Go.

[This is Freddy's time to shine.]

[The kid hits the accelerator yet somehow manages to peel the car out without smoking the asphalt. Less tire screeching means less noise means less likely to be followed. He'll be taking a roundabout way home too. To their advantage he doubts anyone noticed the car.]

Is he dead now?

[Freddy asks while rounding a corner. He heard only one shot go off (his own) but that doesn't mean Larry didn't have the time to stomp that bastard's skull in.]

[Man oh man. Larry feels like he's sweating like a pig. He rolls the window down. It quickly gets cooler in the car.]

Oh yeah. No doubt. That's a shit ton of lost blood. Think his hand about came off after I pulled it out of his grip.

[It's always more amusing in a movie because it's someone else. Right now he's still feeling pretty sick in side. No pain though. Even upon inspection of his wrist.]

So you're okay?

[Around another corner then taking it slow and easy to look over at Larry. What a fucking mess, but the old man came out on top as far as he's concerned and that's all that matters.]

[A nod comes before the verbal.]

Yeah.

[What's the difference between shooting himself or some cops, right? Though he feels shaken inside. It could have been a lot more worse. Both of them are breathing, not bleeding. They're okay. Mark this as another clean get away to their collection.]

We didn't get your tea.

Good. [A nod in return.] We got hot chocolate, same thing.

[Not really but hot chocolate would really please the kid right about now. Also a cigarette, but he refuses to light up until they get home safely.]

[Amen to a cigarette.]

Easy to brew.

[Less of a hassle. They've met their quota of hassles by far tonight. Damn they're making great time. Freddy can be a smoking driver.]

Great back up.

[Larry's unbuttoning his shirt to wear the wifebeater. His Hawaiian shirt is too bloody for the lobby. He rolls it up and tucks it under his arm.]

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