I’m quickly discovering that I’m not really in the mood for this right now, leaving me easily distracted and prone to uninteresting commentary. I’m sorry. Let’s try again tomorrow.
Category: argh krix fix your categories
Sierra glanced at the kids who had shrunk back against counters, cabinets and the wall. There were tears tracking through the dirt on their faces, but they were mostly managing to keep quiet.
“Well?” Yan asked, raising her voice.
Sierra couldn’t bring herself to speak. Being shot in the hand- she might never use it again. But the knee was supposedly the part of the body that had the hardest time recovering from a major injury.
Hm. I think if I was forced to choose, I’d go with the hand. Being forced to use only one hand sounds better than having trouble walking. Even if I am a sack of ‘taters.
Yan bent down and grabbed one of the oldest boys by the hair. Ten years old, blond hair in bad need of a cut and a pugnacious nose. He squealed and writhed in pain at the grip on his scalp, until he wrenched himself out of Yan’s grip, falling flat on his back.
Clock is ticking, Sierra.
The girl jammed the gun in his mouth before he could recover, and he froze.
“Choose!”
For Charlotte this choice would definitely be easy.
But just how hard is Sierra by comparison?
There was something at play there that Sierra hadn’t been told about. “Leave her alone!”
Hm? History between Charlotte and Sugita?
Surely nothing good.
“Shut up, bitch,” Yan stepped closer, waggling the gun, “You want to get shot?”
Few people want that.
I’m sure Crawler did at one point, and a couple other weirdos, but for the most part it’s not something we want.
“Just let us go. Do whatever the fuck you want here, it’s on your head, but let us go.”
I don’t get the impression they’re gonna let you off that easily.
“Don’t think so. I hate arrogant bitches. Going to spoil my mood if I don’t do anything about it. Your choice. I can shoot you through your palm, shoot you in a knee, or I can shoot one of the kids.”
Somehow I feel like Mannequin would appreciate this ultimatum. Maybe Jack too.
Let’s keep going!
I’m a bit sleepy and there’s a lot left of this Interlude – it looks like it might be around twice as long as a typical chapter, at least? – so I think I’ll stop here for tonight. See you tomorrow for the next part!
“Leaving us to clean up the mess?”
“Sierra,” Charlotte spoke, her voice quiet, “Not worth it.”
Charlotte’s right, even with her own concerns about running low on food.
Yan gestured with the gun, and Sierra listened this time, stepping out of the way.
Sugita and Jay headed past the counter and into the kitchen, while Yan stood where she could block the front door. Sierra could see Charlotte shrinking away. Like a shark that smelled blood, Sugita turned his attention to her.
Sugita… *pulls up Google Translate on a suspicion*
…does not mean “shark”. It means “passed away”.
Yan means “eye”.
He stepped close, invading her personal space.
Fuck off.
Don’t show fear, Sierra prayed.
But Charlotte did. In an instant, it was as though she was a different person than she’d been five minutes ago. Weak-kneed, cringing, not even resisting as Sugita grabbed at her wrist.
“You assholes. Least you can do is drop the bullshit and admit you just want to take our stuff.”
Heh, yeah.
“Was thinking about it, sure,” Jay said, “Doesn’t look like Skitter’s coming back. Two days, situation like this? But you’re dreaming if you think we’re going to just walk away with some food. I think we’re going to evict you.”
“Evict us?
Well fuck you too.
“Move out of the way,” Yan ordered Sierra, twitching the gun to her left.
“Why?” Sierra asked.
So they can get to the food, I guess?
“Because I’ll shoot you if you don’t,” Yan said. “I can’t believe you’re not listening. You’re either stubborn or stupid.”
“I’m tired,” Sierra replied. “And what you’re doing here isn’t exactly brilliant. Think about it. Where did this food come from? The equipment?”
Skitter, and they think she’s probably dead and thus unable to provide more of it.
Or maybe Sierra’s talking about how there’s got to be some bigger man who’d take issue with their behavior.
“Skitter bought it.”
“From who? From where? It’s pretty obvious this place was set up after Leviathan came, but where’d she get it? She had it delivered. And the same people who make deliveries like this to a supervillain are going to be pretty ticked off if they find out someone’s messed with one of their customers.”
Pretty solid logic here.
The argument was feeble, and she knew it.
“If these people exist, they won’t show up tonight. We’ll spend the night. I figure we’re overdue for a party.”
Hey, Jaw, you busy?
“Skitter gave us permission.”
“We supposed to believe?” Sugita asked, his voice heavily accented.
Oh hey, you’re here too.
Is Yan with you?
“Yeah.”
“No,” Yan spoke. She reached behind her back and drew a handgun.
Well, fuck.
“Don’t believe you.”
There are kids here, Sierra thought.
They don’t need another corpse on the floor.
“Stupid,” she spoke without thinking.
Yan pointed the gun at her. “What did you say?”
Oops.
“You know Skitter gave us the go-ahead to use her place.”
“That so? I overheard someone complaining that Skitter left without announcing anything, after the fires,” Yan said. Her tone was mocking.
Taylor may have fucked up in that regard.
Sierra whirled around before the man was even finished talking. Not a man, exactly, but boy didn’t fit.
Hmm.
It was Jay. The Japanese-American boy glared at her through his mop of hair.
Oh. Hi. What the fuck?
Did Yan say something to him about Sierra?
“Jay. You weren’t invited here.”
“I can see why. Electricity, running water, food… you’ve got it made.
Ahhh. So that’s where we’re going.
Was wondering where you were going, tried following you, but you disappeared. Thought we’d missed our chance until we saw some ankle-biters running down the street with plastic containers of food. Seems you’re hoarding the good shit.”
I mean, where do you think the ankle-biters (no actual ankle-biting, kids, we’ve had enough cannibalism) were bringing the food?
“We’re not hoarding,” she spoke. She had to swallow to clear her throat. She knew she had to sound confident, “This is Skitter’s place.”
I’m not 100% sure saying that was a good idea, but at least it’s a good reason.
“Skitter’s, sure. If she’s still alive. But not your space. Don’t see why you can have this stuff and we can’t.”
You can. They are actively working on distributing it.
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