orangetoughguy | log post II

[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.]

You don't deserve any less.

[A casual and cool compliment for another. It's a little too weird, celebrating the death of someone who looks pretty much like yourself. Hell it was Larry, just different. Again he looks over to make sure the old man's wrist doesn't suddenly start bleeding too. Hey there's a spot on the secluded side street for once. Freddy parallels the vehicle with ease.]

[A paw touches on Freddy again. Nothing too intimate or intrusive. It's touching for the sake of being alive.]

Smoke?

[Larry knows there's something in the glove box. Chesterfields and Marlboro all around.]

...I'll clean this tomorrow.

[The car he means, his shirt will soak in the tub.]

Yeah. Light me up.

[Another couple nods. Freddy doesn't make to get out of the car just yet either. Killing the engines and the lights, sitting in here for a smoke, feels like a good idea as any. He's not shaking but he's got the shakes. Larry came after him.]

[Both cigarettes are lit between Larry's lips. When the Marlboro is properly lit he hands it over to Freddy. With the car off, silent and no longer idling around him. He notices the shakes.]

We're home free.

[...from a rattling experience all around.]

I know.

[Another nod. He can't hide his nervousness or the fact that he broke a cold sweat but Freddy won't let it take over him either. How could he? THe kid takes his cigarette for a deep pull.]

Fuck. Are you okay?

[How many times has he asked that question? Deserves repetition though.]

[A deep, long drag. His longs feel like they're made of led or something. That doesn't stop him from trying to take in as much nicotine as possible.]

I don't know what to make of it all.

[He fucking shot and left himself dead in an alley. And the shit he was saying. Larry rubs a hand over his eyes he was going to rub the top of is head but remembers the blood. At least now he can look at it. He flips down one of the visors to look at what is there in the mirror. This is what happens when you get your head slammed against the roof of the car a few times after a hit in the head.

Maybe that's why he wants to throw up.]

Me neither.

[He fucking shot and left himself dead in an alley. It wasn't Larry but it was and that leaves Freddy feeling a little sick too. Separating fiction from fact isn't always easy for him either, and he had Larry's other gun for fuck's sake. There's also the matter of what shit came out of his mouth.

Tapping ash aside the kid has to reach out and set his hand on the old man's knee.]

Everything he said, it wasn't you. [He's not looking for assurance, he's asserting it.]

[Sure the kid can get under his skin but Larry would never think to gun him down especially for the diamonds. The man doesn't even want them. And how could he think to put bullets in him with what they got?

Though it doesn't take long to recall that in a fit of rage Mr. White about kicked Freddy's ribcage in.]

Shit.

[This time it isn't a word flung out in frustration. It rolls out as a sigh, a reluctant acceptance. Flipping the visor back up he puts his hand on Freddy's. It all makes it feel like a sink hole is forming in his chest and all the bullshit is sucked in to keep falling forever in a state of being collected, not beginning or ending.]

I'd never say shit like that.

[What if someone would have heard? They'd be as good as dead.]

I know man.

[He nods, genuine and sincere. Yes Larry kicked his fucking ribs in but that was Lawrence Dimick in a rage. This one...this guy was practically cold-blooded. Stoic. He's never seen Larry like that except for a second when the man gunned down cops like it was nothing. Then White just as easily slipped right back into being a protector, taking Orange along and guiding them both to safety...or inevitable doom as it were. He's nuanced like that. The man he met in the supermarket, that man never once crossed Freddy's path so directly.

Maybe the kid just wants to believe no part of that man exists in him anymore.]

Let's go up, we gotta check out your head. [Another nod and puff of his cigarette. Freddy turns his hands over and up to give Larry's a firm squeeze in the darkness.]

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