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Locked Topic
Scene Eight: Satan Is My Motor
Topic Started: Nov 5 2009, 02:26 PM (944 Views)
LadyRahl
Member Avatar
Supreme Goddess Of All Things Bright And Shiny
I've got wheels of polished steel
I've got tires that grab the road
I've got seats that selflessly hold my friends
And a trunk that can carry the heaviest of loads


I've got a mind that can steer me to your house
And a heart that can bring you red flowers
My intentions are good and earnest and true
But under my hood is internal combustion pow'r
Satan is my motor
Hear my motor purr
Satan is my motor
Hear my motor purr
Satan is the only one who seems to understand
Satan is my motor

I've got brakes
I'm wide awake
I can stop this car at any time
At the very last second I can change directions
Turn completely around if I feel so inclined

I've got a mind that can steer me to your house
And a heart that can bring you red flowers
My intentions are good and earnest and true
But under my hood is internal combustion pow'r
Satan is my motor
Hear my motor purr
Satan is my motor, motor
Hear my motor purr
Satan is the only one who seems to understand

Satan is my motor
Satan is the only one who seems to understand


Lyrics to: Satan Is My Motor
Preformed by: Cake


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Excerpt from the recovered journal of Willow Barkley
Dated: June 3, 2011


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Good morning world.

I think.

Nothing really so good about anything these days. My ankle itches, like usual, and Gods forbid I get this damn thing off to scratch it. I think he finds it funny. He finds a lot of shit funny that shouldn’t be. Just yesterday he carved out a woman’s eyes. She knelt at his feet screaming as he did it, and he just smiled at her, this soft… this smile that wasn’t his and he…

Every day for the past ten months I’ve wondered what the hell we were thinking. No, not we. What I had been thinking. Mark would have gone any direction I’d chosen at the time. He would have done anything to protect me, protect the child that I was carrying inside me though we didn’t know it for certain. I had my doubts, tests can be wrong. It wasn’t until HE put his hand on my stomach that I knew for certain that was only after it was too late to change anything. I’d never thought about it until then, during the rebellion, why he avoided touching me.

From the moment Tom arrived in Davenport and came to Mark and my home… he’d embraced Mark, so happy to see him but me… he’d told me that Adam was dead, and let Mark hold me when I collapsed. He sat there as I cried, telling me the gory details… about how they’d unloaded his body off the truck, about how he’d died trying to come and get me but never once, never once did he reach for me. Never once did he even so much as touch my hand and I… I never thought anything of it. I thought it was grief, guilt that he was the one that had to deliver the bad news.

Boy how I was wrong.

Fuck I should have listened to Dominica… I don’t know how different things would be, but I know I wouldn’t have my ankle chained to a fucking desk. I just, after everything that I had seen, everything that I had gone through… regardless of what Dominica had told me I just couldn’t get past my hatred of that woman. Of Lovely Fucking Rita. I honestly couldn’t think of one thing that could be worse than what was happening right at that moment. It’s like that line in Young Frankenstein when they’re digging up the body. Igor says ‘it could be worse’ and Frankenstein asks ‘how could it be possibly any worse’ and Igor says ‘it could be raining’ and then BAMMO downpour hits.

I was Frankenstein.

Bathin was the rain.

The coup itself, that wasn’t hard to organize. It was simple really.

Tom arrived one day with a smile on his face, saying that he had the answers to everything… that he and Sam had arrived under the guise of Bathin to bring God’s wrath against Rita for going far down the wrong path. Okay, so it wasn’t so heavy handed at the time. I mean if it had been that obvious I would have laughed at him like I did Dominica when she’d talked about God’s Will. He used Mark and myself to organize the captives. Everyone trusted us. Well, not everyone. Those with IQs about 50 flatly refused. Dominica said that Bathin was evil, what good entity would take the name of a demon? I said I didn’t believe in demons.

The last thing she said to be was “You will.”

I can still remember the sad look in her eyes when she said that, the way her shoulders sank when she turned and walked away and I remember how fucking pissed off I was at her for siding with Rita. I remember thinking ‘fuck them… fuck them all’.

When it happened, when the uprising began it was glorious. Everyone acted at the same time. It was swift. It was deadly. It was brutal and in a matter of hours it was over. It was over and we were free from the camps and dancing with joy that Rita was gone and… and then the hammer dropped. 80% of the men that we were fighting with, along with a small % of the women turned their guns on us Tom… no, not Tom, Bathin laughed. He laughed this cold, dark, malevolent laugh and…

It just went from bad to good to nightmare you can’t wake up from so fast.

And Mark and I… who had served as his right and left hand were spared of the fate that the others still suffer. Our suffering is of a much different kind.


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June 3, 2011
If you’ve been paying attention… 10 months have passed since scene Seven.

Davenport
Willow/Mark/Bridgette/Tom


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“Shhhh,” Willow said softly, bouncing Kerri in her arms gently trying to get the baby to quiet down. She walked across the expansive room towards where she slept, settling down on the mass of soft pillows, holding her baby daughter in her lap.

“Is she okay?” Mark asked groggily, sitting up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“She’s just hungry,” she replied, pulling open the top of her dress and putting her baby to her breast to drink. Her eyes shifted across the room to the large oversized bed. “Do you think she,”

Mark shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he replied softly. “I think he’s still sleeping.” He ran his hand over Willow’s back gently. She leaned against him, pulling her legs under her, one hand dropping down to her ankle and trying to scratch the skin under the shackle.

“What have we done?” Willow whispered softly trying to work a finger under the metal. It was useless, it always was. “Mark, what have we done? I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he replied kissing her shoulder.

“Because of me,”

“No,” he replied firmly “because of me. I made my choice, just like you. Willow,”

“Do we have to go through this every morning,” asked a tired voice from across the room in the direction of the bed. “Boohoo, we fucked up, we backed the wrong horse, things are so much worse now…” the light clicked on and Tom got out of bed, stretching languidly. Beside him, the woman that he had blinded yesterday groan, her hand groping out towards the edge of the bed. After removing her eyes, Tom had sewn the lids shut, as well as her mouth. He slapped her ass and the woman jumped, cringing in fear which caused him to laugh. “Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah… you two are like a broken record. Remind me why I keep you around?”

“Because she gives great head and I’m too cute to throw to the wolves.” Mark replied, his tone playful. He continued to run his hand over Willow’s back as Tom grabbed his robe, slipping it on over his shoulders and walking over to them.

Tom stood there in front of them, his eyes watching them. It was Tom, and it wasn’t. There were bits of the man that stood before them that was very much the Tom Delonge that they both knew and loved, but most was Bathin. If there was a fight going on inside they couldn’t see it. There were moments that they could, few and far between, but overall there was nothing. “What do you want to do today?” Tom asked, his voice chipper. “We can go down to the coliseum, go to the theatre… maybe the market.”

“How about if we just work on some music?” Mark asked, the idea of doing any of that not all that appealing.

“That could be fun,” Willow said with a smile. “I like listening to you,”

“No one asked you what you like,” Tom snarled down at her his eyes flashing angrily but after a moment, the look paused and he squatted down in front of her, reaching out and touching her cheek gently before dropping down to her free breast and giving her nipple a squeeze. “Save some for me princess,” he said leaning forward and kissing her forehead. Mark’s hand paused midpath on her back and a forced smile came to his face.

“BRIDGETTE!” Tom yelled, straightening back up.

The door to the room opened and Bridgette walked in dressed in a simple blue dress, her dark hair spilling down around her shoulders. “Yes?” She asked, a smile on her face, hands clasped together in front of her and head lowered in submission. “What is that you desire?”

“You see,” Tom said smiling and walking over to her. “That’s how you talk to your lord and master.” He ran a hand up her arm over the silky fabric. “Breakfast,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think,” he thought for a moment “a nice virgin roast, sometime from the flank… rare, something lean. You two have any requests? I didn’t think so,” he said when neither of them responded. “They’ll have the same.” He thought for a moment. “I think, I think Willow is going to need to go for a walk later. See if you can round someone up to do that. Mark and I have some work to do, don’t we Mark?” He asked, turning and smiling at Mark warmly, though his eyes were cold. “Open the windows, listen to nature and just… have a nice guy day.”

“Sounds great,” Mark replied, with a tight smile.

“And what would you like me to do with your… plaything?” Bridgette asked gently trying not to wince as Tom wrapped an arm around her waist, looking at the blind woman stand up shakily, trying to wrap the bed sheet around her naked form.

“Oh we can just… let her be.” Tom replied letting Bridgette go and walking around the room to sit down at his antique desk. “She can still be good for a few laughs.” He said, chuckling as she tripped over a lone shoe and fell to the ground with a muffled cry, her lips sewn shut so that she couldn’t speak. “Oh, and find Sam. I have some work for him. We’re going to be getting company soon. Oh yes,” he said as Mark and Willow shared a look. “Your little friends are going to try to come and save you all,” he said, his voice in a mocking baby tone “but they won’t win, oh no they won’t. I’ve got a special surprise in store for them.”

A cold, dark laugh came from deep within Tom and Willow pulled her daughter to her breast just a little tighter, Mark’s hand tightening on her shoulder.


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Ankeny
Zeke/Ruben/Alex/Johnson/Cat


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“How long’s it going to take?” Ruben asked, tossing his bag in the back of the jeep. “Considering that we don’t know the terrain and everything that we’re traveling with?” His eyes looked back over the stretch of road and land behind them on the south side of town. Ten months, it had taken them ten months to prepare for this day. Ten long months to learn how to use the weapons and equipment that they’d gotten from the military base. Most everything that they had gotten had been experimental so there had been a lot of weeding out what was useful vs. what was more trouble that it was worth.

Johnson drove up, coming to a halt beside the Jeep and getting out. “I just came from the airport, the jets will be ready to go at our word. Estimated flight time is about 20 minutes. All we have to do is give the word.” He looked over into the passenger seat of the Jeep. “He okay?”

“He’s fine,” Ruben replied. “He’s just… protesting silently.”

“I’m not protesting,” Zeke replied looking up from the book he was reading. “I just, have nothing to say.” His head dipped back down to the book, clearly unhappy with having to go along for this little venture. He knew that he had to go, it’s what had been asked of him and if he went it would ensure their best chances against the forces in Davenport but he’d never been comfortable with aggression, so this went against everything that he believed.

“The tanks are what’re really going to slow us up,” Johnson said. “By accounts it should take us the better part of a week to get there. Maybe longer depending on terrain changes.” The two men turned as Alex came jogging up to the Jeep. “Alex,”

“Tanks are ready to go.” Alex said. “Hey Zeke,” he said pulling open the back door of the jeep and grabbing a bottle of water. “You know,” he said cracking the top and taking a sip “I used to dream about driving a tank.”

“It’s more fun in your head,” Johnson replied with a slight smile. “It’s slow, it’s stinky and it’s loud.”

“And I can drive over or through anything,” Alex replied with a grin. “The anarchist in me is SOOO happy right now.” His eyes looked over the other vehicles in their convoy. It had been hard, waiting this long to finally get their move started. He’d fought tooth and nail to leave right away, to get the girls back, to avenge Adam, to kill Rita… but it hadn’t been Zeke that had won the battle. It had been Ruben that had.

Ruben, the man elected to the head of the Council.

The elections had been brutal. Several recounts had been needed and by the end there had been more than one fist fight over it. The biggest issue wasn’t who was ON the council, but who LED the council. Fred Phelps had thrown several hissy fits over the fact that some ass pirate faggot (his words not Alex’s) had gotten more votes than he had and thus was the head of the Council. Ruben, Alex, and Cat had all been elected onto the Council as well as Fred Phelps, Lilly McConklin, Sheila Moran and Karl Archer. John Costas had been elected to remain the military leader, thus promoted to General. His right hand was the newly promoted Colonel Darren Johnson. Spoon had been chosen to head up the general police and law enforcement agency, which had cracked him up to no end.

The only thing that had come as a shock was the fact that Zeke, the most popular and well known person in all of Ankeny, hadn’t received one single vote. Well, it had been a shock to everyone but Zeke. He’d just smiled that knowing smile and said that he was meant for something else and that had been that. There’d been no further word on the matter from him.

“General,” Johnson said giving John a salute as he walked up, his new pins shining in the sun. He carried his new rank well, better than Johnson felt that he carried his own. “What’s the scoop?”

“We’ll be heading out shortly,” John said. “You sure you want to come? This is going to be dangerous. I still think you should all stay here, leaving that asshat in charge,”

“I need to do this,” Ruben replied. “WE need to do this.” He gave Cat a friendly wave as he came up to them. “Besides, someone has to watch out for Zeke.” They all looked back into the Jeep just in time to see Zeke rolling his eyes at the comment. “Besides, Lilly and Sheila will keep him in check.”

“You know he’ll burn Zeke’s church,” Cat said. “He’s been talking about it for months now.” The church that Zeke had restored was without a doubt, the most popular place to go and worship God, Allah, Abraham, Kalli… any and all were welcome through those doors to praise the deity of their choice and Phelps hated it, absolutely hated it, and hated Zeke for it. He felt as though HE was speaking the word of God, preaching about cleansing the earth, starting over pure…. And he had a fair amount of radical, zealot followers but it was miniscule compared to those who came to Zeke’s place of worship.

“Then he burns it,” Zeke replied, closing the book in his lap. “He’ll burn it and I’ll rebuild it. This is besides the point. We should focus on Bathin.”

“And Rita,” Alex said, his tone dark, to that Zeke did not reply. “What? She gets a pass now?”

“God will judge her when the time comes,” Zeke replied.

Ten months ago, Tom and Sam had simply… disappeared. There’d been no notes, no word, no hint, no clue… the last person to see the two of them had been Sheila Moran. She said that Sam had come to see her and Tom had shown up. Sam had asked her to get them some coffee and when she’d come back to the kitchen, they’d both been gone. No one had seen nor heard from the since.

“I copied the path Zeke said to take,” Cat said handing out one to everyone. It looked much like Dominica’s map had with areas blocked off, roads blacked out. The trip would have been days shorter if they could have taken the direct roads over there, but that wasn’t possible. They were being forced to circle down and around Davenport so that they would have to attack from the East. There was apparently no other way to attack. Much like Ankeny now had the rivers, Davenport had…. Well they weren’t sure what it had to protect it, but it had something.

Cat wasn’t a fighter. He’d fight if he had to, but it wasn’t his thing. He was going to keep the troops entertained, keep morale up during the long arduous trek to Davenport. He’d play music, crack jokes, have nice long religious debates and discussions with Zeke, interview Ruben, John, Johnson, Alex… those that people would connect to. He saw himself as simply the cheerleader of the group and had even gone so far as to paint ‘Rah Rah Sisboombah!’ on the side of the tour bus that he’d be broadcasting from.

“I thought maybe you could ride with me for a bit,” Cat said to Zeke. “Start us off on the right foot.”

Zeke looked at him for a moment and then closed the book, setting it on the dashboard and getting out of the vehicle. “Okay,” he said gently. “Though I don’t have anything to talk about.”

Ruben snorted. “Nothing,” he said when Zeke looked at him, both Johnson and Alex smiling as well, John’s shoulders were shaking with laughter.

“Just let God flooooooow through you man,” Alex replied and burst out laughing when Zeke gave his shoulder a friendly push, following Zeke back towards the bus. “You guys think Spoon’s okay?” He asked, the humor tapering off. “It’s been almost a month.”

“He’s fine,” Johnson replied. “Hopefully he’ll have set up a resistance by the time we get there. We’re going to need all the help we can get if we’re going to get in there with minimal loss of life.”

“You ready?” Ruben asked John and John nodded.

“Let’s get this show on the road.” John replied. “Colonel.”

“General,” Johnson said giving him a salute. “Just say the word.”

“Let’s do this thing.”


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Davenport
Dominica/Misty/Spoon/Sam


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“So if we take the food storage,” Dominica said studying the map “this one right here, we could supply our fighters for the next month. It wouldn’t be an easy hit, but it’s our best option.”

Rita nodded in agreement. “Agreed. When’s their next shipment in? That would be the best time to attack. There’d be a lot of activity. Easier to get in place.” She paused and looked at Dominica. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t,”

“It’s okay,” Dominica said touching Rita’s hand. “You didn’t know. If we can find a way to get rid of Bathin, then… it’s okay. Stop beating yourself up over it.” She gave Rita a quick hug and kissed her cheek. When Tom/Bathin had arrived, everyone had taken sides. Everyone had been forced to ask themselves which was the lesser of two evils. Life under Rita’s rule wasn’t kind, but it had been slowly improving since Dominica had started to influence her and no one knew anything about Bathin, or at least what they knew was lies.

He appeared out of nowhere with Sam at his side, speaking about rebellion, about freedom, about normality. He said all of the words that on oppressed and angry people wanted to hear to get them to his side. At night however, that was another story. Edward had told them about how he came into their dreams, into the dreams of the men whispering dark things about power, about taking their rightful place, about feeding on the weak, enslaving the soft, about ruling not only the city, but the world. These dreams though, they weren’t for everyone. Not everyone had them and that was why, in the end, Willow and Mark had sided with Bathin.

Tom had been their friend before all of this. They knew him. They trusted him. They believed him…. And now they suffered for it. They’d unwittingly chosen to be the right and left hand of the Devil and now, like with what always happens when one makes such bargains, the Devil turned on them. He’d paid them back for their loyalty with chains, with slavery, with… they didn’t really know what Bathin/Tom forced them to do.

Dominica turned as there was a knock at the door. Two quick ones, three slow, and one solid. “It’s Misty,” she said and Rita went over to the door, opening it to show Misty standing there, two people behind her. Rita’s eyes met one of the men’s who was standing there.

“I’ll wait in the next room,” she said turning and walking out into a side room. Misty walked in, followed by Sam and a man that she didn’t know. Sam had arrived in Davenport with Tom and had initially sided with him, blinded by the hatred that he had felt towards Rita. He’d pursued her with blind, hate filled lust until the day he’d almost captured her. He’d burst into the room, just as Rita had jumped out the window to find Dominica standing there, gun in hand after having just shot a guard that had attacked her. It had been an odd moment, the two staring at each other for a full minute ignoring the chaos around them before hugging each other, filled with joy.

Sam had lost his way, Dominica had seen that and so with her most loving hand, she guided him back to the Path. She had known by that point that they were going to lose. The rebellion was artfully carried out, swift, deadly… and she knew that it would be over quickly. They all knew it and so they’d gone underground, Dominica and Rita, the heads of their little movement. They watched, they waited, they learned all they could and Sam… as long as he never had to be in the same room as Rita, or speak to her for that matter… had proven to be an excellent ally.

“Have you heard anything from Bridgette?” Dominica asked as the three of them walked into the room. “Sam,” she said giving him a hug and then looking at the new comer. “And you are,”

“This is Spoon,” Sam replied.

“Zeke sent me?” Spoon replied, in almost a questioning tone.

“Zeke,” Dominica said with a laugh. “You want anything to drink?”

“I got word from Bridgette this morning,” Misty said going over to the boxes of water in the corner and pulling out bottles for everyone. There was no power in this section of the city any more. Only Bathin’s ‘followers’ got the luxury of power and running water. The rest of them, the slaves, had been tossed back to the stone age. “He found out about Dee, knew she was working with us. He cut out her eyes and then,” she passed the bottles out. “She said that she screamed most of the night. She didn’t break, and when she wouldn’t he ordered Bridgette to sew her lips shut.” Bridgette, their one link into the inner office of their new ruler.

“What about Willow and Mark?” Dominica asked.

“Same old, same old.” Misty replied. “I don’t know how they stay sane. Especially with what he’s feeding them.” She took a drink of water, forcing down the surge of nausea.

“Don’t ask,” Sam said taking a drink. “You really don’t want to know.”

“Sit down, Spoon,” Dominica said taking a seat at the table. “You mentioned Zeke.”

Spoon nodded. “Yeah, they’re coming down here.” He said. “Adam and Alex found this base, this base under the base in Fort Dodge. Adam, broke the code to get in before he died, but it was full of weapons, tanks… really experimental shit, or at least that’s what we thought at the time. John said it was more like upgrades of what the current tech was or something, I don’t know.”

“So why the hell didn’t you come down sooner?” Misty snapped. “You let us fucking hang?”

“Alex wanted to come right away,” Spoon said taking another drink. “But Ruben forbid the military from moving, which honestly was the smartest thing they could have done because the first time we tried to mobilize… it was a disaster. Anyway, there was solid hard core training being done and then last month Zeke came to me at like, 5 AM. He said God had given him a vision, a vision that I had to leave right there and then with just the clothes on my back.” He chuckled. “Good thing I’d just gotten home and hadn’t stripped down to my boxers yet.”

“He told you to come here.” Dominica said. “I had a dream like that, about a month ago that someone would be coming.”

“I remember that,” Misty replied. “You drew a face,” she turned, digging through a shelf of papers until she found the right one, pulling it out. “It’s him.” She said passing the sketch over to Dominica, the resemblance uncanny.

Dominica looked at the paper and nodded, setting it down for Spoon and Sam to look at. “When will they be here?”

“If they stuck to the date Zeke gave me,” Spoon said. “They left today. It’ll take them a week, at the least.”

“One week,” Dominica said with a nod. “One week and this could all be over. Misty, see if Bridgette can get word to Willow and Mark, see if there’s anything that they can do to help, but don’t let her jeopardize her position, she’s too important where she is. Sam, get me everything that you can on weapons count, location, guards, all that stuff.” Sam and Misty both nodded. “Spoon,”

Spoon laughed. “I’ll get in touch with the scum,” he said. “I’m good at that. They’ll be ready.”

“God’s will be done,” Dominica said sitting back and taking a drink of water.

God’s will be done.

Edited by LadyRahl, Nov 5 2009, 09:39 PM.
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LadyRahl
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Supreme Goddess Of All Things Bright And Shiny
Mod Note:

Okay for those of you who are dense enough to have missed it… there has been a jump of TEN MONTHS between scenes Seven and Eight. If you overlook this… I’m gonna kill ya.

Ankeny Group: Get on the road… it’ll be slow going, but just get going. You will be arriving at Davenport next scene so feel free to have any misadventures or conflicts that you want during the next week, just don’t get to side tracked. Your mission, your focus, is Davenport.

Davenport:

Willow/Mark = captive and forced to do whatever Tom can think up from metal mind games to torture to whatever you want to come up with.

Tom = you’re the king shit… knock yourself out, you pretty much have a green light to do anything you want. You know that Zeke and company are coming, but you don’t know the details.

Resistance (Dom/Sam/Misty/Bridgette/Spoon) = resist and get ready… make contacts, get information… the better job you do… the better off you’ll be. 

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mdnjr70
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Shrimp Po'Boy
Rubén et al – The Journey Begins

Rubén played with the ring on his finger, he wasn’t one for jewelry never was but this one was special. Never in a million years did Rubén think he would be doing any of this; mounting an attack against other American’s on American soil as the leader of a new society as the New Commander and Chief, it was something out of a horror story, well The Stand as Alex liked to point out, but even that, that was light weight compared to what they were all going through. This was more then a battle of the right to live and the right to be free it was a true battle between good and evil it was the battle on earth between God and the Devil and that was something that not too many people fully understood not even him. They moved down the road at a snails pace; men, women and the machines of war and it was his call it all rested on him. The planes would come later, this was just phase one. It was scary how quickly the war machine of man was back in action. There were parts of Ankeny still under construction but not the military that had been first and foremost.

At first he was flattered to be elected Head of the Council, he never really wanted it, but he was flattered that people thought that highly of him and his abilities, he remembered standing there when the election results where finalized and everyone cheered, all he remembered was wanting to vomit and he did several times that night when he was alone at the house. That was the easy part, then the choices and the decisions had to be made, easy ones at first; where to start the farms what new areas they should try and reclaim, where to expand, but that quickly changed. They went from setting up a society to mounting an attack and getting ready to wage a war. Rubén looked at his journal it went with him everywhere now and he still wrote down thoughts and ideas, the most important where the words he shared with Zeke that day. After the election he knew he could never write things in the journal regarding Ankeny it remained nothing more then a place for him to try and clear his head.

Rubén looked over at the military briefing sitting there he had forced them to wait all this time, ten very long months, he had put his foot down and made them take their time and plan it out right. He even had to force Zeke to help them plan it and he hated himself for it, forcing the one he loved more than anything else in this world to do something he hated, planning violence against the others, he hurt Zeke and he saw it, but he had little choice and Zeke never made him feel guilty over it, he was, as always, just very Zeke about it. The only thing that gave him comfort were Callie and Lex (he knew Willow was out there alive and Sam, he felt it in his core and he was doing this for them, well part of it was for them), with Sam gone he and Zeke became their temporary parents, Callie was so much like Zeke and Lex; he knew Adam and Willow would be proud of him. The smiled faded from Rubén’s face as he continued to look at the briefing twisting the ring on his finger, he waited so long because they had to know how to use the new equipment and to move and secure the rest of it from Fort Dodge, at the time that place seemed so far away, not now, it was part of Ankeny, under their control, the boarders had slowly been increasing over these last several months, so much had changed.

Latin Lover come back this is the man in the can” Alex voice said over the walkie, Rubén smiled where did he come up with these names, “yes ‘Man’ go ahead.” Alex had fought him so hard on the delay so did the others but it was his call even Zeke simply looked at him and smiled softly saying he couldn’t help him it was between him and God. It was the one time that Fred and he were on the same page and that they had agreed with each other. Rubén had no illusions of course, Fred hated him with a passion and now that they were leaving would do everything he could do to undermine him and the others, but their were too many people supporting him that he felt comfortable, if that was even the right word, leaving, plus he had to be there, he knew it.

“Are you sure about leaving Freaky F unchecked? I’m still not sure, that guy is bad news.” Alex said over the walkie it crackled a few times but he was clear enough to be understood.

“Well I trust the lovely ladies and I’m sure that the ‘man with the plan’ will help bring balance, they all know how important this is.” Rubén said over the crackle of the walkie.

“Then can I kick Queen Bitches ass…please.” Alex said a little whiney which caused Rubén to smile.

“No.” Zeke said looking over at Rubén, he smiled “I know Zeke. I know.” Zeke wasn’t really eavesdropping but they were in type quarters and he and Cat could hear everything.

“That would be negative Man.” Rubén said he and Alex were smart enough to not use real names it was something that John and Daren both insisted on, you never know who might be listening.

“This is the Colonel I would like to request that we keep this channel clear for official chatter only.” Daren broke in and Rubén couldn’t help but laugh.

“This is the General from the command vehicle, I agree, this channel is for official use only ladies lets keep the chatter to a minimum unless it is mission critical and I would like to thank the two of you for at least being smart enough to not use your names.”

“Whatever…oh a boulder must run it over, I’m out.” Alex said and the conversation ended. “He’s going to kill someone with that tank.” Rubén said looking at Cat and Zeke. “Well it makes him happy to ride in it, at least for now, let him have his fun.” Cat said looking at Zeke and Rubén. “You’ve been quiet Mr. Council Leader or do you prefer Commander and Chief, or Mr. President or um, what other name can we call you?” Cat said looking over at him, “Do you have anything to say to the masses?”

Rubén looked at Cat, “You know for the head of Media for Ankeny I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to talk about what we have planned.” Cat laughed, “Hey I’m on the council too, just because I head up the media doesn’t mean I can’t to both.” Rubén looked at him, “speaking of that we need to make sure we have a separation of media, it can’t be state controlled.” Cat frowned, “God you are such a politician. How do you live with this guy?” He said with a smile at Zeke who grinned, “It’s my penance.”

Rubén frowned a moment looking at Zeke, “That’s not what you said on our wedding day.” Rubén quipped and Zeke laughed getting up and walking carefully as the bus lurched over and sat next to him kissing him on the check, “this is true, its not and I wouldn’t have changed it for anything.” Zeke smiled, “I thought you were going to pass out you were so terrified and pale. It would have been cute if I wasn’t worried you were going to keel over right there.” Rubén looked at him absently playing with his wedding ring, “Gee I wonder why everyone was watching and those that weren’t there got to see it on TV, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you Cat for getting a TV station up and running again.”

Cat looked at him devilishly, “oh come on, it was motivation plus it gave everyone hope and people like you guys it was the first major event with the whole council behind it.” Rubén chuckled, “not the whole council.” Cat frowned at the memory there were two members missing, “Alex was still pretty upset and Fred doesn’t count and you have to admit John and Daren did a great job keeping him and his protestors away for the day.” Cat said looking at the equipment he was about to start broadcasting from.

“Well I’ve got my remote set-up so we can start broadcasting at any time.” Cat said excited looking at Zeke, “What do you want me to say?” Zeke said looking at Cat, “I’m sure you’ll figure out something.” Rubén said giving Zeke a peck on the lips. Zeke got up and moved over to the empty seat next to Cat as Rubén picked up the military analysis to review it one more time. He ran his hand over the cover, “I hope to god we’re doing the right thing” he whispered as he opened the file.
May it be said, when the sun sets on your life, you made a difference.
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Alex et all - The Open Road

Johnson was right. Riding in a tank? It fucking sucked….hardcore. It was worse than the combine he and had taken all those months ago…Jesus, had it really been almost a year since Adam died? Dreams of that night still plagued Alex’s sleep, generally making him relish his bouts of insomnia, yes, sleep deprivation sucked, but on the other hand, dreams his friends’ death were worse.

As the tank moved along, he unhooked the radio and hit the talk switch. “You there Johnson?”

“What’s up Alex.”

“Remember what you said when we left? Slow, stinky and loud?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, my inner Anarchist is now one Sad Panda.”

Murmurs of laugher came across the radio. “Does this mean I’ve got the right to say ‘I told you so’ now?”

Alex gritted his teeth, “yup.” A brief pause. “Well? I’m waiting.”

Johnson cleared his throat, “I told you so. I told you so. I to-oo-old you so!” He replied in a sing-song manner.

“What are you, twelve?” Alex replied with a grin.

“Nope…just being an asshole.”

“Which is my job,” Alex noted, unable to keep himself from chuckling.

“Well you can’t have all the fun, now can you?”

Cat piped up briefly, “oh for the love God, would you two just get a fucking room already?”

More laughter from the others, they all knew that something big was coming and anything to bring levity to whatever the hell it was was more than welcome at this point. After all, if you couldn’t laugh, what was the point to living?

“Ya know,” Alex said, “it’s a real shame that old Freddy wasn’t there to see us off.”

“Wait,” John replied. “You wanted Phelps to be there? You, Mr. Pagan symbology wanted the delusional Bible Thumper there? Don’t tell me you’re getting teary-eyed and missing him, Alex.”

“Actually, no,” Alex replied. “I just really wanted to run him over with the tank. I still can’t believe that asshole got elected to the council.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong but you not try to get him voted off several times?” Zeke said.
“Also,” Cat said, “I could’ve sworn I remember you breaking his nose during one of the meetings.”

Alex laughed at that, “well, that’s hearsay. As you may recall, he and I were alone in the room and there were several things the man could’ve tripped over.” More chuckles came across the radio. “Okay, next time we take a rest stop, someone else is driving this thing.”

“Can I say it again?” Johnson said.

“No.”

“Come on!”

“No.”

“I’m gonna say it anyways: told ya so!”

Alex grinned, “got it of your system now?.”

“Yes,” Johnson said, laughter ebbing his voice.”

“Good,” Alex said. “Hey Cat, how ‘bout a little mood music?”

“Way ahead you good buddy,” Cat replied. “Already got something lined up.”

Radio silence went across the CB band and they heard Cat go through his spiel before starting his broadcast for the day. “Seeing as we’re all on the open road and headed for well, the battle of a life time, I’m gonna give a huge shout out to Col. Bill Kilgore.”

Alex grinned: he knew what was coming, and, as he expected, Wagner blasted from the speakers.



Alex smiled as they drove along, humming to the song, but he soon cut short, fingering the scar on his cheek as was his habit when he got nervous. This was it, he realized: the pawns were moving into place. The chips that weren’t already down would fall where they may, in a sobering moment, he realized one thing: the road ahead would be long and hard, but, wasn’t the night darkest just before the dawn? And, from the looks of things…dawn would be breaking soon. The only question was: who would be alive to see the dawn break?
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Cat Hansen and Zeke Costa - I’m Your Boogie Man

“Hell-ooooo, waste-landers. How is post-apocalyptia treating you today? Almost a year, kids. Almost a year. But I know some of you roaches can hear me. This is Stray Cat on what once was K106.8 Jahmon Radio.

So, great news, folks: Schools are being built again, and are almost up and running. So, sorry children but summer vacation is OVER. Gotta get your thinking caps back in place.

Well, we’re heading to battle, guys, and I’m not going to lie. I feel like a hobbit going for Minas Tirith. But hey, if I have to be a hobbit, I guess I’ll be Pippin. That little fucker was always so funny. And I kinda have his feet. Plus I could totally eat as much as a hobbit when my munchies kick in full throttle.

But that’s beside the point. I have a new idea. To bring some light into the dark little lives everyone is accustomed to, I am going to do a daily joke and try, gods willing, not to repeat myself. So here are today’s. I’m doing more than one and I find it highly appropriate as I heard a rumor this dude is still alive… as if anyone is surprised. Here goes:

Chuck Norris destroyed the periodic table, because he only recognizes the element of surprise.

Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.

Chuck Norris is the reason why Waldo is hiding.

Chuck Norris’ hand is the only hand that can beat a Royal Flush.

Chuck Norris can slam a revolving door.

And my personal creation:

Chuck Norris thumb wrestles for keeps.

Yes, yes. Apparently Mr. Norris is out there, alive and most likely kicking ass. And I am determined to find that bastard and meet him as soon as I can. Maybe we can bring him with us to beat shit down. No way we’d lose.

Before I blast the tunes and sign off, I just want to shout out to my main man, the late and great Adam Barkley. One of the coolest dudes I ever met. It’s been awhile but still, I think about that dude everyday. Miss him like a motherfucker. Rest in peace, Adam. You’re the man.

So that’s all for now, lovely survivors. I’ve got some good tunes coming your way; get ready to boogie. KC and the Sunshine Band, here we go. This is Stray Cat and you’re listening to Jahmon Radio.”



---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cat pulled the headphones off and hung his head. The sting of Adam’s death hadn’t faded over time. It was so strange. Like he’d lost his brother all over again. And then his “father” had gone missing. At least he had his other “brother” with him.

Cat, despite being a smart ass often, got very attached to people. He was a lover to the max and friends were the best things he had. Hell, not knowing if his mother made it drove him mad daily. And he couldn’t truly bring himself to accept she was dead. But at the same time… he tried not to hope she was alive for fear of clinging to false hope forever. Cat walked over to Zeke.

“So, if I interview you, what would you want to talk about?” He sat across from him.

“I don’t have a message, if that’s what you mean.”

“Any advice to the people though?”

“I’m no public speaker. Perhaps just ‘love your fellow man, don't be angry, understand your differences, accept everyone… live to the best you see fit.’”

“Which to you is a goddamn saint.” Cat laughed. Zeke smiled.

“If you insist,” Zeke leaned over and put a hand on Cat’s, “You’re a good man, Cat. I know you’re trying to make everyone as happy as you can. You’re doing wonderfully.”

Cat just smiled. He didn’t know what to say sometimes when Zeke complimented him.

“Thanks, Zeke… I appreciate that.”

Then they sat in silence. Not an awkward silence, a pleasant one. That was one of the many great things about both Cat and Zeke. You didn’t have to talk to feel comfortable. You could sit in beautiful silence with your own thoughts with each other’s company and feel… peaceful. It was like meditation. This was a glorious friendship indeed.
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Times had changed.

Turns out Misty had been right. Bathin wasn't the hope and savior of the world. His uprising had been swift and brutal.

Rita's men had put up as best a defence as they were able, but Bridgette had seen firsthand how effective it had been. Bathin and his followers had swarmed Rita's troops, despite being outnumbered.

Bridgette and Misty hadn't taken an active part in the battle, choosing instead to act as go-betweens for the captains and Rita. When Bathin had been closing in, Misty and Bridgette had opted to run, when Misty had come up with the idea that one of them could stay behind, to be captured by Bathin, and act as a spy.

Misty had naturally volunteered, but Bridgette had put her foot down, and insisted it be her that stay behind. Misty was fully capable of handling herself, even more so then Bridgette, but Bridgette had argued that Misty had more of a temper.

Misty would be more likely to say or do something that would piss Bathin off, and would ultimatley get her killed. They had had a breif argument, but ultimatley Misty agreed that Bridgette should stay behind.

Bridgette had seen Misty escape with Dom, Rita, and a few others, and then had sunk herself into the part of a helpless female. Bathin had found her, and had decided to use her for a personal slave.

Hence, Bridgette was able to give information to Misty and the others, though they'd had to come up with other means to pass messages along. Bathin had destroyed the garden, as well a smost of the weapons Bridgette and Danny had hidden away.

The answer to that had come in the form of Lilly, the nymphomaniac stripper. Under the pretense that she was a gift to the guards from Bathin, Lilly was able to distract the guards while runners and messengers were sent out. So far, Bathin had yet to catch on to their scheme.

And that was their current situation, ten long months after Bathin's takeover. Willow and Mark had been kidnapped a swell, so Bridgette did have someone to talk to, from time to time, a sDanny had managed to escape with Dom and Rita.

The woman whose eyes and mouth Bathin had sewn shut wa slying on the floor, whimpering, able to hear everything, but unable to see or communicate. Bridgette could think of few worse punishments.

Bridgette dearly wanted to help this woman, but she knew that Bathin would have her killed if she interferred. Bridgette had seen Bathin rip out a mans throat with his bare hands, she knew he would have no trouble kiling her.

She quickly placed a call to the kitchen, to have Bathin's breakfast made, and then came back into the room, looking at the poor woman. Bathin had left, apparently to do some work.

"We can't help her, you know." Willow said softly, coming up next to her, "Bathin intends to keep her mouth sewn shut and let her starve."

Willow was keeping her voice pitched low, so the woman did not hear, and Bridgette followed suit, "There must be something we can do, we can try to smuggle her out with the messangers."

"It's too dangerous," Willow said, "the messengers have a hard enough time slipping out without having to worry about caring after a blind woman."

Bridgette knew she was right, "But there has to be something we can do."

"I can only think of one thing," Willow said, and Bridgette turned sharply at the tone of Willow's voice.

"No." Bridgette said, crossing her arms. "We can't do that."

"It's either that or she starves to death," Willow said, "which would you pick?"

Bridgette wanted to argue the point, but she knew it was hopeless. Willow was right, they could do nothing for this woman except put her out of her misery, "Ok," Bridgette said, steeling herself, "I'll do it."

"No," Willow said, "I'll do it. Bathin would think nothing of killing you for interupting his 'fun'. He wants me, for whatever reason, he won't kill me."

Again, Willow was right. Bridgette was expendable, Willow wasn't, "Allright, if we have to."

Willow nodded, "I'll take care of this, you take care of what Bathin asked you to do."

Bridgette nodded, "I will, thank you." She clapped Willow on the arm, and gave Willow's baby a peck on the cheek before leaving hurriedly, before she could dwell too long on what Willow had to do.

She would cry later, when there was time. Right now, she had to find Sam, and bring him to Bathin. But first...

Bridgette made a stop off, down a small hallway. She carefully counted the bricks on the wall as she went. 54 down and 3 up. Bridgette carefully dug out the brick from the wall. Bridgette had painstakingly loosened this brick from the wall over the past ten months, carefully chipping away at the mortar that held it in place, until it finally came loose.

She opened this brick now, and peered inside. It was empty, no news from outside. Bridgette pulled apeice of paper from her pocket, cursing the shackles on her wrists as she did. Now she knew how Misty felt.

Early on in the rebellion, they had done alot of codework using sign language, which they still used amonst themsleves occasionally today, but from that, they had developed a secret written language as well, in case their papers were intercepted by enemies.

Using this code, Bridgette wrote on the paper, informing whoever received it that Bathin was aware of a possible rescue attempt, and had a surprise planned for an invasion force. Bridgette recommended keeping both eyes open, if not cancelling the attempt completely.

Bridgette placed the coded message into the empty slot in the wall, and carefully replaced the brick. When the brick was wedged a certain way, it was almost impossible to distiguish.

Done now, Bridgette eased out of the small hallway, making sure that no one was watching her, before going on to find Sam.
"Alright, I've been thinking. When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the man whose gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!"


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Domenica/Spoon – Cause and Affect

Domenica watched as Misty and Sam headed off. It had been hell truly hell, for the last ten months they waited for Zeke and the others to come and help, they lost so many good people, Dee was just another one to add to the list, Domenica found keeping a journal these days help her to think, it was also the place she kept the names of the people how had fallen. There were times she hated Zeke and those in Ankeny for letting them sit here and rot; why had it taken so long people would ask her, was it that they didn’t care about them, even Misty, who knew both Zeke and Rubén was angry at them. She would simple say that it wasn’t God’s will for them to come yet, but privately she cursed them not understanding, cursed herself for her failures as a leader. Bathin kept such a tight grip every little success can with huge losses, but they had to do something they couldn’t sit there and wait, they tried waiting.

“Spoon.” Domenica said looking at him, he was about to walk out of the room, he turned and walked back over to her table. The maps and the plans still laying out, this would be the biggest attack to date and it was a win they needed, they needed those supplies people needed to eat and it would help keep moral up, “yea.”

She waited for the door to close as he waited looking at her, she clicked her broken nails together trying not to let the map distract her, there was so much to plan still, “I need to know, it wasn’t because of who it was they were coming to rescue that kept them back there, was it?” She said her once soft gentle, almost delicate features almost completely gone, she had ten months of battle wounds; both mental and physical under her belt now. Spoon smiled softly, “It was never easy; Alex, all he talked about was saving you and coming for you. They almost came to blows more then once you know. Rubén, you have to understand him, when I met him I remember sitting there with him drinking a beer and thinking this guy was unreal; both he and Zeke they were too much, they couldn’t be real, both filled with hope and they had this glow. I can’t explain it. At first they talked about coming and getting you right away there was no doubt. That night I met him was the first planning meeting.” He chuckled running a hand through his hair, had it really been 10 months he thought then he looked at her, how much should he tell her he wondered as well.

“Then why didn’t they come sooner or send any word?”

“Bathin.” Spoon said his face getting a little dark. “I guess Rubén and Zeke took care of him when he got to Ankeny, but he wasn’t Bathin then he was Tom, Rubén was pretty tight with him, he wouldn’t talk about it and still doesn’t at least not to me. This is all I could get from John and Shelia. Anyway, Rubén sat with this Tom guy when he was in the hospital, he OD’ed or something like that and Rubén sat with him, caring for him; some people say he would sit and talk to him for hours, but I wasn’t there. I don’t know really but they were close, they went and did some crazy stuff when this all first happened, right before I met him. But something changed.” Domenica was unsure where he was going with this. Spoon looked at her studying her, “The night we first started planning we found out that Tom and Sam where gone, then things started to come to the surface, Tom coming out of his coma, some stuff he said to Zeke.” Spoon looked at her, “I don’t think anyone really understood expect for Rubén, something clicked in his mind. I think he waited so long because he knew this wouldn’t be easy and if they came right away there would have been no hope. Tom knew the camp, knew the military strength at that time, he would have known every detail even before the election Rubén was heavily involved in the town.”

Domenica looked nodding she started to understand, “and knowing all that Bathin would have had the upper hand so they had to wait. All this time I thought it was because…”

Spoon looked at her debating if he could trust her with the whole truth or not, “Domenica, listen, I don’t know you that well and I think I can trust you, there is more to it then that, I know Rubén, waiting killed him, having to fight with Alex and having most of the Ankeny against him hurt him deeper then anything I could imagine.” He leaned in towards her their eyes meeting, “Zeke, not even Zeke, could comfort him during that time. I don’t know if that makes him brave or not, but what I do know is it makes him a good leader, in the face of everyone wanting him to change his mind he stayed the course, knowing what he knew.”

“You seen to understand things pretty well.” Domenica said looking at Spoon trying to figure him out. He shrugged giving in, she had to know. She had a right to know, “Remember I told you I know how to deal with scum, well a few days after the election results when the planning was actually going on and going strong, I ran across this lame-ass group of wannabe redneck thugs in a part of Ankeny that was still pretty empty, one of the guys Phil, talked about this guy Bathin, who had his named carved into his stomach or something at that time Tom was still Tom, not Bathin he was still just missing along with Sam. Well he beat these kids pretty good and had them scared to death they hid out not talking to anyone till me and my team found them.” Spoon shook his head at the memory and continued, “So I talked to them in private, trying to find out what happen to them. Well I told Rubén, I didn’t think anything of it at the time he was the head of the council so I thought he should know and the description of the man and the name Bathin meant nothing to me, but once I told him, he called a meeting of the council and stopped the assault planning he told them it was because they needed to train on the new equipment, that they weren’t ready, but.”

“He knew the name and the description of Tom.” Domenica said as Spoon nodded “If you didn’t tell him, they would have attacked.” Domenica said continuing thinking a moment. “God’s will.” She said with a smile for the first time in ten months feeling like that they had a chance a real chance to beat back the Devil, “when did they put the two together? I’m assuming they know about Bathin now?”

Spoon shrugged, “God’s will or not, he never told the others what I told him that day and I never said anything either, it stayed between him and me and now you. It wasn’t till about 6 months ago that the name Bathin came to Ankeny and people started to understand that waiting was the right choice that Rubén hadn’t miss lead them.” He sighed thinking about that conversation he had so long ago. “It was never easy for him knowing that someone he carried about was now doing the work of the Devil.”

“Thank you Spoon for trusting me with all this, it helps to know we weren’t forgotten.” Domenica said with a soft smile and he shrugged, “well I think you have a right to know and I don’t think he’ll mind not now.”
May it be said, when the sun sets on your life, you made a difference.
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Tom, Bridgette, Sam--something wicked

They all must think he was a real idiot. Anger coursed through his veins and he hissed, climbing the stone wall like a disjointed spider and hunching up into the corner, his eyes glowing yellow in the shadows. He knew that they were coming. He also knew that there were traitors amongst him. He knew who some of them were. He’d make them pay for their insolence—in his own time.

Did they really think he could be destroyed? He was one of the oldest demons, and his command in Hell was wide and far-reaching. Thirty legions of demons bowed to his command. These humans could kill the body he possessed, but they would never kill Bathin. Bathin smiled through Tom’s lips, twisting them into an unnaturally large, gaping leer. This body was good. It withstood a lot of punishment. The soul inside was strong, but not as strong as Bathin. The soul had been quiet as of late. That was good. Resistance was futile. A low growl escaped from deep within his throat as he leaped back down to the ground. He floated along the floor, toes scraping the carpet as his back arched into a serpent-like curve, hissing as he glided along.

He relished the pain that the man inside his body was radiating. Sweet anguish of the soul—it kept him happy, like a fat toad who has had its fill of flies. Bathin could do whatever he wanted with this body; and he did. He used it to kill, to rape, to twist and to contort. And to RULE. Bathin’s tongue lolled from Tom’s mouth as he thought of the power he had emassed here. And there would be more to gain. His thirty legions were waiting. Tom’s feet found purchase on the ground and he began to walk. Not because he was afraid of what people would think if they saw him do the kinds of things he did just now, but because it was best to appear human. The human mind was a fragile thing.

“Quiet now, Pig” Bathin sneered, feeling the struggle from within from Tom’s soul. “You’re mine,” he croaked in a rasping, inhuman voice. “Mine and mine and mine and mine.”

Bathin strode into the main hall, looking fresh in a crisp shirt and slacks. It was only in the dead of night, or when he was alone, that the bruises, welts, and slashes that he subjected Tom’s body to became visible. Bathin was a master at the art of tricking the eye. He looked pristine to the naked human eye, whenever he was among them. But he did love punishing the body he lived in. OH, my, yes, he did. Almost as much as he enjoyed punishing his slaves.

Speaking of which, here came one now. Her long dark hair swung from side to side against her back. Bathin loved her long dark hair. “Bridgette,” he called, and noted the slight start in her eyes before they quickly recovered and narrowed into a smile. Hmm.

“Yes, Master?” Bridgette said, hoping her voice was steady. Had he seen her putting a message behind the brick? Oh, God, if he had, she was dead. What was he doing here at this time of day?

“Have you brought Sam?”

Bridgette nodded. “He’s on his way.”

Bathin grinned, and Bridgette thought it looked quite unnatural on his face. Who could smile with such dead eyes? Mark had told her that there was a man that Bathin used to be, a man named Tom, who had been Mark’s friend. But if there were any signs of a goodness in this man now, Bridgette couldn’t see it. Charm, grace, magnetism—yes. But she could feel nothing good coming from him. She didn’t think it would be a problem for her to kill this man. If she ever had the chance, that was.

Bathin/Tom laughed and waved his finger from side to side, as though chastising a small child. “Ah, ah, ah,” he took her by the wrist. “Let’s not be thinking such thoughts.” He drew her close to him, and breathed in her face. His breath, foul just a few moments ago, was now sweet. “Go to my room and stay there until I come for you. Disobey, and your lover Misty will have to kiss your lips from atop the pole that your head will be mounted on.” His hand burned a ring around her wrist, a scalding reminder of his power over her.

Bridgette gulped, audibly, and nodded. “Yes, Master. Right away.” Bathin watched her scamper off and he licked his lips. He was going to have to watch her very carefully. Yes indeedy.

Bathin turned his head into the wind, and sniffed. The native plants of Iowa had a distinct sharpness to them, which only he could detect. He knew exactly which plants in what combinations he could use to torture his slaves, or his enemies. People were gathing these plants for him now, having no idea what their Master would want with them. Bathin laughed sharply and whipped his head in the other direction. Finally, Sam was here. Good. Bathin had a job for him to do.

“Sam,” Bathin said, again becoming Tom-like. “Where have you been, my friend?”

Sam shrugged. He still wasn’t too comfortable around this guy. “Taking care of things, per your orders, Tom.”

Sam had to call him Tom, or else he couldn’t go on doing what he was doing. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on with this man, but he knew that his son could not have been friends with someone as evil as this. He had to believe that there was something good in him. And besides, Tom was the only chance he was going to have to get Rita back for Adam’s death. When Sam struggled, that was the thought that got him out of bed in the morning. Vengence.

“Bring Willow to me, Sam,” Tom smirked. “ To the grand chamber. I have plans for her. And,” he licked his lips like a wolf about to devour a lamb, “I’m hungry.”
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Rubén et al – Friends and Foes

****Flash Back****

“What they bloody hell do you mean we’re stopping the plans to go and get them?” Alex said slamming his hands down on the council table Rubén was sitting in the center of the table as everyone looked at him he had called a special session. It was technically only their second official meeting and things weren’t going well. Cat looked over at John he had just been promoted to General and not two weeks ago the new uniform hadn’t even been finished yet, “Don’t you have a say in any of this?” John frowned, “I report to the Head of the Council and that would be Rubén if his orders are to hold off on the planned assault then I have to go with his wishes, even if I don’t agree.” John said making his opinion known even though he couldn’t take a stand one way or the other. “What about you?” Alex said to Darren and Spoon, “You want to have a military coup d'état Alex a month in. Sorry man. I report to the General and I follow his orders not yours.” Darren said looking at Alex. Spoon held up his hand cutting off Alex before he even asked him.

“Well we can veto you. All we need are four votes, I want to make a motion that we override your decision and continue with the planned assault on Davenport.” Alex said looking at them all, he was determined to make this happen, over the last few weeks they had a couple lawyers and a retired judge helping them with the rules and the charter and implementing the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, with modifications, none of it was easy and they were all getting a crash course. Overall it was a headache to say the least. The council chamber was the old town hall that had been cleaned up Rubén looked at him and then around the rest of the room, “do you really want to have this young council do a veto, Alex? People need to see a united front not divided, not this soon.” Shelia said looking at him, her clam demeanor and her quiet but powerful presence made them all take note when she spoke. Alex looked around the table, “This is too important we need to get them back, Willow and Domenica what about Misty and Bridgette, Rubén you willing to sacrifice them? Or did you just forget them in your quest to make the perfect place.”

“I don’t want to sacrifice anyone that’s why we need to wait, we need to learn the new equipment, build our forces really be ready, this is too rushed; to hasty. We’ll have one shot and one shot only. If we do this now it will be a blood bath.” Rubén said he was on shaky ground what he was asking them to do was unthinkable, but when Spoon came to him and told him about Tom…no he couldn’t risk it. It would be a blood bath and if he said anything now it would only add fuel to Alex’s fire.

“You don’t seem to have any faith in our military, Rubén.” Fred said through very tight lips, he should be head of this council not Rubén,I suck cock Napoles.

“It has nothing to do with lack of faith in our military is has everything to do with not wanting to get them all killed because we miss judged our enemy, we have no idea what they have in Davenport, Zeke can’t see anything and we have no intelligence on them, we’re going in blind, literally. Do we really want to risk it? What happens when they counter attack and we have nothing to protect us our Island safe haven will only protect us so much. We are in no position to wage a war; now in a month or two…” Rubén started to add but was cut off.

“A month or two; Bullshit!” Alex said looking around, “We have the upper hand now, we have a strong military and the new weapons, we can do this, catch them off guard.
We hit them hard and fast, they wont’ have anything left to get us with.” Alex took his seat looking at the others he was just as passionate as Rubén was and just as well versed on the situation, part of him hated the idea of being on this council; it was politics and he hated politics and now he knew why.

“We have a motion on the floor we need to either approve it or not but we have to do something before we can move on.” Lilly said looking at them sense the motion was against Rubén it was her job to step in and over see the meeting until the situation was resolved, her eyes moved to the official record keeper a former court reporter. Alex looked at her, “well?” Alex said looking around the table.

Lilly looked at the reporter and nodded the reporter read the motion and called for a vote. “Well you know my vote; Nay.” Rubén said looking at them, he was worried but if they trusted him they would vote in his favor. Lilly sighed, “Nay.” Alex frowned at her, but he knew she would follow Rubén.

Karl thought a moment then looked at Alex, “Sorry Alex. Nay.” Alex shook his head and looked at Cat, “Aye. You know I’m with you brother.” Alex smiled at Cat and they bumped fists. Shelia looked at Rubén and then to Alex, “Rubén Alex is right this is our one shot. Aye.” Alex clapped his hands, “Excellent. Well good, we can continue with our planning.”

“Hold on.” Fred said looking around at them like a cat caught with a bird in his mouth, “You still need my vote.” Alex looked at him, “Come on Fred you want to get those sinners as bad as I do. Might as well just say ‘aye’ so we can move on and get this thing done.”

Lilly looked at Alex, “you need to say your vote Fred? With no commentary from any other members” Fred looked over at Rubén and he frowned, Rubén knew he was sunk, Fred would vote with Alex on principle alone. “So it comes down to me…who would have thought. The fag and the anarchist need little old Fred’s vote. What a position I’m in; you know it could go either way.” Lilly looked at him, “Fred no grandstanding just vote, so we can move on.” Fred looked at Lilly, “then my vote is Nay.” Alex couldn’t believe it the wind was taken out of his sails in one simple word, “The Nays have it the veto does not pass, Rubén’s decision stands.”

“Oh fuck this!” Alex said standing up his chair flying back and hitting the wall, “This is bullshit. What the hell crawled up your ass Fred?” Rubén looked at Lilly, “thank you Lilly for overseeing the Veto, now back to business, Alex please take your set.”

“Fuck you, fuck this council this is bullshit and you all know it, John come on we can do this. Darren, Spoon you know we can.” Alex said looking at the three men, then he turned and faced Rubén, “It’s fucking goody goody Zeke, he’s rubbing off on you Rubén we’re not going to be able to talk our way out of this. You just condemned the women I love to die and you know it…who’s it feel to be a murderer?”

Rubén looked at Alex, “Leave Zeke out of this, he had no barring on this council or my decisions, he doesn’t even know we’re meeting as for those in Davenport, well they are in...” It happened in a flash Alex was on Rubén in moments not letting him finish what he was saying. Alex was only stopped before hitting Rubén by Karl and Cat. “You’re willing to let her die…you bastard. You can’t do this. She needs me, she needs help and you’re going to make them wait. Fuck you man I thought you were my friend, how many people need to die for you to get off your ass and do something.” Alex bellowed as the others stood looking at Rubén. Cat and Karl wouldn’t let Alex go and John and Daren were protecting Rubén keeping him from doing anything stupid, Rubén was red with anger.

“You have no idea how hard this is Alex you really don’t.” Rubén yelled and looked at Spoon who was quiet. “I need you all to trust me, it’s the only way this will work, we took a vote you all had your say. Please, Alex don’t do this.” Rubén pleaded forcing himself to calm down, this was good for any of them, God help him, how could he do this.

“Get off me.” Alex said shrugging off Cat and Karl, “I call a recess, I’m not quitting I won’t give you the pleasure of that you fucking backstabber, but I want a recess now.”

Rubén nodded looking at both John and Darren, “Good I don’t want you to quit, we’re in recess.” He said banging his gavel on the table. Cat and Karl took Alex out of the room as the others slowly cleared out, “Rubén it’ll be fine.” Shelia said she worried about him this was hard on him and she knew it, it didn’t help that she didn’t agree but they had their vote and there was nothing more to be done. He smiled at her, “I know, it’s new for all of us. I’m sorry you don’t agree with me.” She shrugged, “I have to believe you know what your doing, but at the same time I need to voice my opinion, not nearly as loudly as Alex.” She said as they walked, Rubén took her arm, “Please don’t worry we’ll find Sam.” She smiled, “I know we will.” She said as Lilly came up to her and they left the chamber.

Rubén walked out into the hall were Spoon was waiting for him, “you should have told them.” Rubén sighed, “I couldn’t intelligent reports are for my eyes only and for me to share this information now would have only given Alex what he needed to get them all to agree as it is I’m going to owe Fred at some point.” Rubén frowned he could hear Alex off in the background yelling, he still wasn’t happy, but there was nothing he could do about it now, maybe in time he would understand.


****Current****


“You alright.” Zeke said sitting next to him as the buss moved down the road. Rubén put down his reports, “We waited so long, what if we missed our opportunity? What if I was wrong?” Zeke smiled, “God will.”

Rubén looked at him, “You know that doesn’t help right?” Zeke smiled taking his hand in Rubén’s “I know but it is what it is. You can’t worry about the past you can only look to the future we all have our paths we’re on and now that path leads us to Davenport to Bathin and the others.” Rubén shuddered, “he was my friend.” Zeke looked at him, “No Tom was your friend, remember that he’s not Tom; not any longer.”

Rubén leaned his head on Zeke’s shoulder feeling the warmth and comfort follow from him giving him a few moments of peace.

May it be said, when the sun sets on your life, you made a difference.
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Zeke/Ruben/Cat - Um, Er, Uh

“So Zeke,” Cat said leaning back in his chair. “Everyone thought you were a shoe in for the Council. What happened?”

“What do you mean?” Zeke asked with a small frown, looking at the microphone in front of his face. “There was an election and,”

“What I mean,” Cat said with a roguish grin “is that you’re hands down the most popular guy in Ankeny and yet for some reason, you didn’t get even one vote. You cheat?”

Zeke laughed good-naturedly and looked at Ruben who was chuckling softly beside him. “I thought the point of cheating was to win. I can’t think of anyone that would cheat to loose.”

“True, true,” Cat replied. “I was pretty fucking surprised, I mean I didn’t even sign up. Oh, sorry.” He said as Zeke frowned at the curse. “Virgin ears and all that. You’re worse than the FCC. I kid, I kid.” He adjusted the dials slightly in front of him. “So tell me something, what’s your… view. What’s your vision for Ankeny?”

Zeke paused for a moment before answering. “I just… want everyone to be happy.”

“And what’s the Word my man, the word?”

“The word?”

“The Word of God.” Cat replied with a grin, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. Jesus this kid wasn’t the easiest to interview. After a few minutes people normally fell into a groove, but Zeke… he kept looking at the microphone like it might bite him. “Everyone knows you’re plugged in, dude.”

Zeke could see what Cat was getting and he wrapped his fingers around the bottle of water he was holding. “I know what people say about me.” He said softly “and I accept it, but I don’t ever assume to know anything. I just,” he looked at Ruben who gave him a soft smile and nodded “I just speak what I feel is right.”

“But your lists, everyone knows about the lists, you still make them, don’t you?”

“I do,” he replied. “Look, we all have the ability to hear Him, we just… we just need to listen. Life, we all get weighted down. My mother, she always said that God never gives us more than we can handle. We might, we might feel that he does sometimes, but I don’t think he does. We are all capable of handling the trials he gives to us with grace, it’s just… it’s a matter of choosing to.”

“What do you mean?” Cat asked leaning forward, actually more than a little interested.

“God gave us free will, the ability to choose how we react to things.” He licked his lips thoughtfully. “We can either, straighten up, have faith and take the next step… or we choose to let go and give up. I know that there are people who will argue that, that will say that sometimes there is too much, that sometimes there’s no other option but,” he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I just don’t believe that. I’ve had people tell me that I’m delusional, that I’ve had a good life and that I don’t have the right to say that but, here’s the thing… I’m not good at this, I’m sorry.” He said. “You should talk to Ruben, he’s more articulate than I am.”

“I think,” Ruben said pulling up a chair “it’s like what you told me after the asteroid hit. Each person makes their decisions based on the experiences of their life. You can either choose to let those experiences weigh you down to the extent where they overwhelm you, or you can learn and grow from them and become a stronger person.”

“Pretty much,” Zeke said with a nod. “I’m not some great spiritual leader. I’m not here to spread the word of God to the heathen masses.”

“So what role do you see yourself in? Not Council member, not religious leader,”

“A guide,” Zeke replied without pause or hesitation. “Nothing more than that. God has many different voices, and many different faces, as does Lucifer… but in the end, it’s our heart of hearts that will guide us down the right path. We just, need to quiet ourselves and listen and if I can help someone do that, then I feel like my job is done.”
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Spoon - Family Ties


Spoon looked around at the beauty of his surroundings. The park was immaculate. I probably looked better when it had people taking care of it. But the natural atmosphere was in itself quite amazing. Vander Veer Park it said on the sign that lie on the ground, the bottom half of it riddled wth bullet holes, unsettlingly enough. He moved his eyes from the wonderful view all around him down to the ugly map that had been drawn for him. He was pretty sure the map was useless, and that he had only found the park by accident. He had been walking for an hour around Davenport, only to finally see the outlines of the park through the fog. He had to move around at night. During the day, he always had the odd sensation that he was being followed. For all he knew it was just paranoia, but regardless, he couldn't risk leading anyone, friend or foe to his destination. Not before he knew for sure what he was going to find.

His conversation with Domenica was still fresh in his head. He had been questioning himself about whether he did the right thing in telling her about the goings on in Ankeny since it happened. Ultimately, his mind landed on the side of trust, and he hoped he was right. For the last ten months, it seemed like his actions were becoming somewhat integral to some kind of final result, and he could not afford to be making bad choices. Not anymore. He had to keep himself on the right path. The one set out for him. That meant following through with his words.

He had told Domenica that he would get in touch with the scum, and that was the plan.

The crudely drawn map still in hand, he thought back to the man who had given it to him. He had approached Spoon the night before, seemingly on a whim, as if he just wanted someone to talk to. After a moment of describing his misery living in Bathin's Davenport, the man gave Spoon the map. Rather, he gave Spoon the napkin with ink on it. "Vander Veer Park," he had said. "That's where they're hiding. People angrier than I am. People ready for war."

For all Spoon knew, the man was drunk, or stoned, or flat out crazy. But any lead was worth following up. Wasn't that was a lawman was supposed to do. He chuckled to himself everytime he thought of himself as a lawman. It was too weird. Maybe in Ankeny it was okay. But not here. Here, he was just a fly in the ointment. Just a moneky in the wrench. And that was how it had to stay, until Ruben got here. Then the violence would start. Then the fun would begin.

Spoon took out the flashlight that Domenica had given him. He hadn't told her where he was going, or why he was leavig the compound. Only that he knew he had too. Telling her it was God's plan seemed to loosen her up on the subject. If it amounted to anything, then he would tell her.

Spoon walked down the path as trees loomed overhead, blocking the moonlight from the ground. It was dark, and cold ,but in the distance on the other side of what he assumed was a pond, he could see a flickering glow, possibly a fire. Hopefully, what he was looking for.

The cold steel cylinder sent a quick chill down his back as it pressed lightly against the base of his neck. A click followed. Spoon froze, raised his arms slowly, and had a million thoughts race through his head simultaneously about how he was going to get out of this. It was dark, cold, he was unarmed, and he had a gun pointed at his head. The odds were not in his favor.

A familiar voice followed. Spoon kept his arms raised, but relaxed his mind. His odds just went up.

"Phil fuckin' Witherspoon," said the man in a gruff Italian accent, all too obviously laid on thick. "I have been waiting for over a year to see your fucking face again. I've been praying every night that you weren't killed in the blast, or rotting in some abandoned cell somewhere just so I could have the pleasure of doi--"

"You gonna torture me with your bad accent or just shoot me, you insolent shit?" Spoon snapped back.

"You little fuck!"

The man removed the barrel from Spoon's neck, swinging his arm back to pistolwhip him. Spoon tok the second of opportunity to drive an elbow into the man's face, knocking him back. After a few moments of struggling, Spoon had the gun, and the other man was using both hands to keep the blood in his nose.

"Frankie fucking Stanson," Spoon said, breathing heavy. "Of all the dimwitted assholes to make it out of Chicago, I never figured you'd live this long."

"Living long enough to get you back, Spoon," Frankie said, clutching his nose with his head tilted back.

Spoon put his fists on both sides of his head in frustration. "Jesus Christ, Frank. Half the fucking world dies, a demon takes over one of the last refuges left in the US, and you're sore over one dead shit from Midtown. I mean for fuck sake, he had it coming anyway. The guy was nuts. He'd of shot you himself if you looked at him funny. I did you a favor."

"Well," Frankie said, leaning himself against a tree. "Technically, you didn't kill him. You just put him in a coma."

"Whatever."

"I mean, he's probably dead now, but technic--"

"Frank, shut the fuck up! I don't care."

Frankie lifted himself from the tree, and put his hands down, the bleeding subsiding for now. "You gonna shoot me, Spoon?"

Spoon scoffed, and lowered the gun. "No, actually, Frank. Believe it or not, I need you."

Frankie laughed briefly, then clutched his nose in pain. He groaned as he stuffed a handkerchief in desparate need of replacement up his nostrils. "What for?"

"See that?" Spoon said pointing toward the fire on the far side of the pond. "Walk."


***************************************************************************************************************


Over the next fifteen minutes Frankie had introduced Spoon to each of the men sitting around the fire by the pond. There were about twenty-five of them. It wasn't much. But enough shit-disturbers to disturb Bathin's shit properly if handled right. Spoon listened intently as they all shared their stories. They all varied slightly, but in the end they had all come here one by one for the same reason. If they didn't, they'd be dead. In some way or another, each of the men had gotten on Bathin's bad side, and been marked for death. Whether it be because they tried to organize against him, or because they insulted the way he walked, he came gunning for them, and they all came here, hoping to hide from his wrath.

Spoon glanced down at the napkin that he realized he was still holding. He had been hoping for more than this. Luckily, he was the kind of guy who knew how to turn this into something serious. These men were, at least in Tom's eyes, the underbelly of Davenport. And that was Spoon's bread and butter.

"Spoon?" Frankie said, nudging Spoon's arm and bringing him out of his deep thought. "Can I have my gun back?"

Spoon chuckled, and flipped the pistol around to grip its barrel, for the first time getting a sense of its weight. He flung it to one side, bringing the cylinder out. "For God's sake, Frank. There's no fucking bullets in here." He tossed the gun back to the old mobster.

Frank put a finger to his lips and shushed Spoon. "Keep it quiet, man."

"Man, tell me you got bullets for that thing."

"Of course I do. How do you think I got these mooks under control?" He hurriedly shoved the gun back into his pocket.

"You packing anything else?" If these guys were to be of any use, they had to be armed. And if Spoon knew anything about Frank, it was that he didn't travel light.

"I got a case stashed nearby. I buried it."

Spoon silently thanked the Heavens above. "Good. Leave it there, and don't tell these guys about it yet. I can't have them getting gun-nuts and going off half-cocked. Everything has to be perfect."

"Perfect for what?" Frankie pulled the handkerchief from his nose and stuffed inside his jacket.

Spoon took a moment to grimace at the dirty thing the man was using as a kleenex, then continued. "There's a war coming, man. We are bringing the war here. Everything's gonna come to a head, and I'm here to make sure that when it gets here, they've got as much help as possible.

"Real mission from God, sorta shit, huh?"

"Frank, you've got no idea." Spoon eyed his old associate up and down. "You believe in God, man?"

"Never have."

Spoon clicked his tongue, and shrugged. "Neither did I."

A man from the group stepped forward, apparently for the whole assembly since when he did, everyone else turned to face him and Spoon. "Excuse me, not that we don't appreciate visitors from the city, but why the hell are you actually here?"

Spoon straightened himself up. He was only going to get one shot with these guys. "There's a man in a big building keeping everyone in this place down, right?"

"Fucking demon!" A man from the crowd shouted.

"Maybe," Spoon said. "But a man, still. He lives, he breathes, he eats, he sleeps, and as far as I'm concerned that means he dies. But he's not gonna let go of his power easily. But, we've got hope. There is an army on its way here right now, ready to take this place by force, and send this Bathin you're all so afraid of, back down to Hell. Now, what I'm here for, is to know if you lot are interested in a bit of good old-fashioned vengeance on the guy who took your city?"

There was sporadic grumbling and whispering from the men who all looked at each other questioningly as well as at Spoon. The small man didn't eactly look like a military leader.

"Let's say there is an army coming," the one man replied. "And let's say they're aiming to take Bathin out. What guarantee is there that they've got a shot in hell?"

"Well, luckily...what's your name?"

"Kenny."

"Well, luckily, Kenny," Spoon continued. "They've got a few aces in the hole."

"Oh yeah, and what's that?"

Spoon opened his arms and looked around at the crowd in front of him. "Us."




OOC:
Frankie Stanson (not overly important, but for reference):
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Edited by Misbehaver, Nov 7 2009, 06:15 AM.
mike was still in his chair being eatenchair
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Luna Payne- Soundless Echoes

Harry. I’ll never forget Harry.

“Okay.” Luna whispered as she fingered the knife. “I don’t like you, you know?”

The knife didn’t answer. Of course, why would it answer?

“Fuck it, alright?” Luna wailed. “I need someone to t-talk to, someone I can trust!”

She was almost raped and killed by Harry Grenier. The only other person she knew in Ankeny. No one else was around. At all. Harry seemed like a nice person. Luna thought she could trust him.

But she made a mistake. She trusted him. And now she’s alone.

“Des Moines. I think… yes.” Luna muttered as the sun inched its way into the lightening sky. “I… whatever. It is about time for an apology.’

She was forced to leave her home because of an innocent little accident, but nothing even happened! Xavier is still alive, as far as Luna knows. But since she has lost contact with her family for over three years, there’s no way to know. They could be dead by now. Luna’s hand shook as she sheathed the knife back into its belt.

An idea sparked through her mind.

Luna ran to the telephone and punched in a few buttons. She held her breath as she waited for the other line to answer, but there was that annoying operators voice. She tried again.

“Uhh. 235-32… I forget.”

She dialed again, but no response. But finally, on her third attempt, someone picked up.

“Warren? Is that you?” Luna asked, she heard his voice, but she wasn’t sure if she heard it. Not for sure.

A pause.

“L-Luna?”

“Yes it’s me. Fucking stupid, aren’t you?”

“Listen. Mom- you know her. She overreacts alo-”

“I know that.”

Something in Warren’s tone seemed, sorrowful, to say the least. There was deep regret and sadness in his voice, but Luna was overjoyed to hear that her favourite brother was still alive. Maybe… maybe she could finally return?

“She really misses you.” Warren said quietly. “But, I have to go. Derek and I are coming over, okay? We’ll protect you, you’ll be safe!”

“No.” Luna whispered.

Another pause. Luna could hear Warren’s harsh breathing.

“Luna, please, all mom wants is for the family to be togeth-”

“Absolutely not.” Luna hissed. “I’m not staying in Ank-fucking-eny.”

“Did you hear? A huge asteroid came and-“

“Of course I know. Bye now.”

Luna hung up. It seems that going to Des Moines would be pointless, then. She doesn’t want to see her mother ever again. It’s her mother’s fault that this happened. It’s her mother’s fault that Luna was very nearly a rape victim… in a world where no one cares. No one would give a shit now, the world’s ended.

She put on her parka and walked down the stairs. The elevators are jammed

“Lucky I don’t live on the top floor.”

She carefully walked down three flights of stairs, the knife easily reachable at a moment’s notice, and she left the building. She looked back at the apartment that she left for Harry’s house. She spat on the door step and made to leave Ankeny.

But something was bothering Luna. Once she did leave Ankeny, where could she go? Any other town could very well be empty just like Ankeny. There’s no way to tell. It’s the end of the world and there’s no place to go.

Except Des Moines. Her family was still there.

But Mother will throw me out again.

No, that wasn’t true. Warren said so himself- Mother feels guilty. Maybe she would welcome her back? What if mother found a gun? Would she shoot Luna? Kill her own daughter?

Shut the fuck up.

Luna sighed, and took a road map on the ground. It was all crumpled up and there are little bits of blood on it… but it seems accurate. “Des Moines it is.”

The wind whistled through the air as the girl walked mournfully around the streets that once were filled with people. Now it’s desolate.

“Oh. There’s the place where I first met…”

Harry.

The hairs on the back of her neck seemed to freeze over as her back stiffened. She couldn’t believe how stupid she was. Harry is a pervert. Harry is a liar. Harry… he was Luna’s friend.

“Harry…”

A hand clasped on her shoulder. Luna screamed and spun around. The evil glare of Harry was staring right at her. His eyes were crinkled in a malicious gaze and his mouth went wide into a cheerful grin.

“You can scream all ya want, dear.” Harry said as he placed the barrel of his revolver to Luna’s temple. “No one’s gonna save you now.”

His hand reached for her thigh. She recoiled and jerked her leg backwards, but Harry’s hand clasped tight over it.

“I’ve been watching you!” Harry growled lustfully as Luna trembled. “I watched you shower ever night until the power lines went down, I watched you rub yourself when you were feeling… naughty.”

That last word came out as a hiss.

“Please leave me alone!” Luna wailed tearfully. “You can’t do this to me again!”

“Oh. You expect me to just, go?” Harry asked. Luna nodded frantically, ignoring the fact that she could be dead any moment now.

Harry seemed to be thinking something over, and Luna’s heart was rising. Maybe he’s going to leave? Maybe…

Harry started laughing. It wasn’t even laughing; it was more of an entertained wheeze. Due to Harry’s habit of smoking, his laugh sounds like a rattle box of a laugh, and that added to the fear of the girl.

“That was a good joke, dear.” Harry panted after his laughing spell was over. “Now, show me what you can do with your body. I feel like watching you entertain yourself.”

He released Luna, but trained the gun on her at all times. Luna imagined the feel of his velvety hands all over her body, and she shuddered. Tears were leaking out of her eyes now, but Harry was busy staring at the strategic areas on her body to notice.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Luna pleaded, as she held her arms protectively over her chest area, but Harry just smiled.

“Hurry it up, sweetheart. We don’t have all day.”

But, something came to mind.

“Can I put on my make up first?” Luna asked in a trembling voice. “It’ll make me prettier!”

“Why not, dear.” Harry said. “But don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t.” Luna answered faintly. She reached for her can of pepper spray, and quick as a flash, she sprayed the can at Harry’s eyes.

The howls of pain of the old man was deafening, but Luna didn’t hang around to see if she hit him. She stole his gun and bolted down the streets.

“I’ll shoot you if you fucking get close to me again!” She cried as she sprinted away from the man on the ground.

Luna ducked into a dark alley, after checking to see if anyone was there. She slumped down by the wall and wept bitterly at the road her life had taken.

“I wish I let Warren come.” Luna whimpered. “He would make everything better…”

It was somehow, Luna’s fault, though. She thought she was a smart girl, she should have known better. She was too weak, and Harry touched her. Why didn’t she stay alert? Luna was stupid, that’s all. Stupid, careless, and she deserved to be raped. It’s all her fault and-

Des Moines. I gotta get to Des Moines.

She reached for her cell phone again and called Warren.

“L-lun”

“I changed my mind, Warren.” Luna said. Something felt wrong, though. She couldn’t tell exactly what, but something felt wrong about this.

“Father…”

“Don’t fucking talk about him!” Luna snapped.” You have to hurry up!”

“Father… gun…”

Something in Warren’s voice sounds as if he was gargling water. It sounded thick, and as if he was in pain. This sparked Luna’s interest.

“Warren, are you alright?” Luna asked. “Speak to me you shit!”

“H-he got angry that…”

Warren started coughing.

“What? Speak up!”

“You w-weren’t here… he sh- shot”

A deafening bang echoed through the speaker, and Warren stopped talking. There was no sound now. Luna shook uncontrollably as she picked up the phone again.

“War-“

“Shut up now, Luna.”

“Father?”

“I’m not your father anymore. We… my wife and I… we disown you.”

There was a click, and Luna’s father hung up. Luna didn’t care though, she was screaming with angst that she had no easy way out of Ankeny, and she had to where to go. Des Moines was out of the picture now.

“Cedar Falls… I can still go there.” Luna muttered to herself, drying her eyes. Warren would have wanted her to be brave. Derek too, but Marcus was too young to even be able to think, and now he’s dead. Luna breathed in deeply a few times, and left the alley. She was headed towards the town Harry advised her to go.

At every corner, she could see Harry’s shadow, but when she looked, he wasn’t there. Harry was every where; the fucking guy was like a ninja or something. She still felt the ghost of his touch on her thigh, squeezing and groping and doing nasty things… but Harry will never do that again. Luna will kill him if he gets close.

Then she found herself back at the cross walk where she left Harry, and he was still lying there.

“In circles…” Luna spat angrily.

The pervert looked up and grinned.

“So, you’re back to join the party, eh, cutie?”

“I’m leaving now. Bye.” Luna said in a hollow, monotone voice. Harry smiled. Luna winced. Harry grinned.

The girl turned around and began to leave, when she heard the sounds of many vehicles roaming the streets now. She didn’t know when they started, but Luna was sure they were there, maybe in the distant background.

“Luna! It’s the convoy!” Harry croaked, and reached for Luna’s leg.

“Stay the fuck away!” Luna shrieked and held the revolver at Harry’s forehead.

“Shoot me, girlie!” Harry laughed. “You can’t shoot me! You’re too_”

The sound of the gunshot echoed through the square, but it wasn’t from Luna’s gun. A man on the riding a jeep shot Harry down, and he lay there, sprawled out on the pavement.

“Are you okay?” Another man asked, and squeezed her shoulder.

Luna just stared in front of her, not talking. She knew this time not to trust. She would never trust anyone ever again. Not her mother, her father, not Warren, not anybody.

“Cheer up, okay? You’re safe with us.” The man smiled warmly, but Luna didn’t buy it.

Just like Harry.

“What’s your name, miss?” He asked, trying to get a response out of Luna. He lifted her up, and helped her into the back seat of on of the jeeps.

“If you ever decide on talking, you can call me Zeke.”

Luna nodded, as alarm bells rang in her head. She ignored it, though. Perhaps she would be safe. Maybe these men were nice.

“Are you hurt anywhere, though?” Zeke asked. Luna noticed that he was kind of attractive. Cute, in a way. But he’s just bait, and if Luna took it, she would be gang raped. Hook, line, and sinker.

Luna shook her head.

“If you’re sure. Hey, you wanna drink? Here, have a coke.”

Luna took it clumsily, but didn’t drink it. Her friendship with Harry started with a coke. Luna would make sure this friendship would never start. Ever.

OOC- I hope this wasn't too bad. I'll do better next time.
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njsmostwanted651
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You can be the sinner and I'll be the sin
Darren tapped his hand against the steering wheel to the beat of Kiss the Devil by Eagles of Death Metal as it played through the Humvee's cheap speakers. They muffled and rattled, even at the low volume he kept it at. Pretty much all military grade entertainment systems sucked, for obvious reasons. At least he had music, and good music. Because if he found some rap tape instead of classic rock he'd probably go out of his mind.

His truck was to be kept empty unless they found survivors, which rarely was the case anymore. So he was chosen to ride in the very back of the convoy, which was where the empty trucks for any survivors would be kept. He was planning on having a long trip there by himself, until Zeke helped a young blonde girl onto the back of his truck.

The girl hadn't said a single word since she gotten on, or even acknowledged his existance. She just stared out of the window with her legs curled up to her chest. Darren decided that after watching a man get shot in front of her face and driving her away from home, he couldn't be her favorite person at the time, and because of it she did not want to talk.

He kind of wished Zeke remained in his car. He was good at breaking silence and making a conversation. But before they left he boarded the bus instead.

"Who'll love the devil, who'll song his song? Who will love the devil and his song? I'll love the devil, I'll sing his song. I will love the devil and his song. Who'll love the devil, who'll kiss his tongue? Who will kiss the devil on his tongue?" Darren sang quietly, making the girl quickly look his way. "The Eagles of Death Metal. Funny shit." He continued. "So...What's your name anyway?"

The girl didn't say anything. She just turned her head back to the window.

Darren chuckled. She reminded him a lot of her fiance. Not only did she look similar, but she had the same attitude.

"I know you probably don't trust us right now, and I understand why. But you're safe with us. I promise you that." He said.

The girl simply nodded her head without looking away from the window. At least it was some form of acknowledgment.

Darren pressed a button on the radio and Long, Long Way From Home by Foreigner started to play from the unknown mix tape. He readjusted his poistioning on the seat and relaxed back, happy to finally be hearing a song more laid back and relaxing. Those past few months were extremely stressful for him, and he never was able to listen to music and relax properly. So driving down a long winding road with the sunset over looking was like a much needed vacation to him.

The truck shook about as the girl climbed over the center console and sat in the passenger's seat. She sat down and started flipping through the mix tape's songs.

"You probably won't find any Lady Gaga in there." He said jokingly.

She paid no mind to him as she stopped at Photograph by Def Leppard.

"Ohh a Def Leppard fan, huh?" Darren asked smiling. "Their pretty good."

The girl shrugged and looked out of the window once more. It was amazing how much she looked like Christine.

When Photograph was just about over, she started flipping through songs again and stopped at a song Darren didn't recognize at first. Then it came back to him, walking into his living room, sitting next to Christine on the couch, and the dreadful song would come on through MTV. Poker Face by Lady Gaga. He hated MTV so, so much.

Darren shook his head in disbelief.

"You're kidding me, right?"
"Beware of the false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves." Matthew 7:15
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LadyRahl
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Supreme Goddess Of All Things Bright And Shiny
Willow/Sam/Tom - Open for the world to see


“Willow?” Sam asked, coming into the massive room where Willow and Mark spend the majority of their days. It was Tom’s office, and his spare bedroom.

“I’m over here Sam,” she said walking out of the bathroom, drying her hands on a towel. The front of her lavender dress was speckled with blood. There was still a streak of it on her right check and Sam frowned.

“Is that,”

“It’s not mine,” she replied, hanging the towel back up and nodding over to the corpse on the floor. The blind girl, mouth still sewn shut, was laying on the marble floor, her throat slid from a shard of the broken plate that had brought Willow and Mark breakfast. “There wasn’t,” she sighed and shook her head. Sam could think what he wanted, she wasn’t going to fight him. “I wasn’t going to let her suffer,” she said. “Not like the last one.”

Mark pulled the flat sheet off Tom’s bed and spread it out on the floor next to the body, rolling her gently onto it and wrapping her up as respectfully as he could. He’d said that they could have done Rock, Paper, Sissors to decide who it was to do the deed but she’d just shaken her head and said that she’d do it. She’d called it her pennance for getting them into this mess. Mark didn’t blame her for the situtuation that he found himself, he’d chosen to follow her decision willingly… and besides, even if she hadn’t been here, he would have made the same choice. It was TOM that had shown up after all.

“What do you need?” She asked, watching Mark move the body gently.

“He wants me to bring you to the Great Chamber.” Sam said, his eyes moving to the crib that sat by the mass of pillows that the two of them used for their sleeping area. It was Mark’s baby, there was no denying those blue eyes. It still stung that she’d gotten pregnant with his child, especially so soon after Adam had passed but he forced himself to realize that she really didn’t have a choice in the matter and he hated to say it, but she was a cute little baby, and very quiet. “Do you want to change?” He said nodding to the blood on her dress.

Willow looked down at it and shook her head. “No, let’s just get this over with. He’ll smell the blood on me anyway. There’s not point in trying to hide it. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Willow,” Mark said straightening up and looking at her, his hands red with sticky blood.

“Don’t worry so much,” she said looking at him and giving him a soft smile. “He won’t kill me. Just take care of Kerri until I get back.” She leaned over the crib and gave the baby a little kiss and touched her back before following Sam out of the room and down the hallway to where she knew that Tom was waiting for her. What he wanted she didn’t know. Sometimes it was just to talk, sometimes it was to hurt her, sometimes it was to suck on her breast after cutting it to mix the blood and milk, and sometimes it was just to supply milk for his coffee (which was hands down the most humilitiating of them all.) Knowing Tom, knowing Bathin, it could be anything. Hell he could be planning to superglue her vagina shut just for shits and giggles. Best not to give him ideas.

“Tom?” Sam asked, rapping his knuckles on the heavy doors and pushing them open before them into the expansive chamber where Tom would receive his ‘guests’. The room had been gutted and rebuilt to look like something out of a medievil castle, a raised platform in the middle on which sat a gold covered chair where he would sit, leering down at the people unfortunate to be brought into his presense. “I have Willow.”

“Willow!” He cried leaping down from the top of the platform and landing lightly on his feet. “I love your new perfume,” he said grabbing her wrist and spinning her around wildly for a moment before yanking her against him and running his tongue up the side of her face licking off the streak of blood that she’d missed. “You really should try her Sam, she’s amazing.” He said learing at Sam. “Adam wouldn’t mind. I mean, how could he? He’s rotting six feet under?” A bolt of laughter tore from deep within his chest, a supernatural reveration to it.

Before she could stop herself the palm of her hand cracked hard against his cheek. “Don’t you dare speak his name!” She hissed at him furiously.

“Oooh, she’s still got some fire,” he cackled.

“Is there anything else?” Sam asked, clearly bothered by the mentioning of his son but doing his best to keep it in check. Patience… all good things would come in time.

“Yes, they will,” Tom said as though knowing what Sam was thinking, giving him a spooky smile. He kept Sam close to him, as close as he dared since Sam was one of only two people whose mind he couldn’t actually read when he tried. The second, was Mark. Nothing to worry about though, Mark was easily controlled though Willow.

“What the fuck do you want?” Willow asked pushing herself out of Tom’s arms. “Did you want to see me or not?”

“Thank you Sam,” Tom said. “That’ll be all for now. I sent a little gift to your room, as a thank you for all your services. Enjoy her. I saved her just for you.” He patted Sam on the shoulder and guided him out of the room. “Bridgette, she’s such a bleeding heart isn’t she?” He said turning around and leaning against the doors, watching her.

“Get out of my head Tom,” Willow said, feeling a certain amount of pressure behind her eyes.

“You keep trying and trying,” he said walking towards her. “Trying to section off your mind… but it’s not going to work.”

She let out a whimper, falling to her knees as he cut into her mind with brutal force and pressed her face into her hands. He dug around maliciously, purposefully causing her pain and he squatted down in front of her. “I want you to tell me what you know.”

“About what?” She gasped, wiping off a trail of blood that dripped from her nose.

“About the resistance,” he purred. “About Rita, about that little bitch Dominica… about our special guests that are coming.” He pressed his finger into her right temple and she screamed, her body siezing and falling to the floor as though it was a puppet who’s stings had been cut.

“I don’t know anything!” She cried, rolling herself over and scooting backwards on the marble floor away from him.

“Oh you know something,” he snarled, pouncing after her. “And you’re going to tell me what it is even if I have to cut open your head.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she gasped.

“I wouldn’t?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

“You need me,” she replied, raking the back of her hand over her mouth wiping away the blood, the pain starting to ebb slightly.

“Do I?”

The corner of her mouth turned up and she brought herself up to her knees looking at him. “Who else can make you as happy as I can?”

“I don’t know, your daughter is a very pretty little morstle.” He said, grinning at her, his teeth looking sharper than they had a moment earlier. “I could just eat her up.” He saw the same old flicker in Willow’s eyes that he always did when he mentioned Kerri, the same look that he would see in Mark’s eyes. Rabid, desperate protectiveness. “Tell me what you know,” he said stepping up to her, standing in front of her as she knelt there.

“I don’t know anything,” she said. “I’m yours, completely. I have no plans against you.”

“But you wouldn’t mind me losing power,” he said grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her roughly to her feet. “You’d do anything you could to bring me down.”

“Wouldn’t you?” She said from between grit teeth. “If you were in my position.” She forced her hands to stay at her sides and not grab at his wrist knowing that it would only make it worse if she did that. “If you don’t believe me,” she gasped “then look for yourself.” She took his other hand and pressed it to the side of her face. “I won’t fight you, Bathin. If I could stab you in the back, I would. I won’t lie, but I have no way of doing that now do I?” She turned her head slightly, kissing the warm palm of his hand gently, more out of affection for Tom so that he knew that she didn’t blame him for what was happening than it was for the demon that was living inside him.
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Cale Raizer
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Shrimp Po'Boy
Ten months was a long time to be without the one you loved.

Misty lived in constant fear that Bridgette would be discovered, and summarily killed, by Bathin. Every day, she woke up in fear that she would get the message that Bridgette had been killed, or that she wouldn't get a message at all.

Misty still felt she should have gone. She was the fighter in their duo, she was more capable of handling herself. But Bridgette was the smarter one, more adaptable.

Misty sighed, brushing her hair out of her face. All she could do was wait, and hope.

She was waiting on todays message from Bridgette. A messenger should be coming in any minute now.

It had been a tense ten months, not knowing if Bathin would discover them, and crush them, as they all knew he could. The full extent of Bathin's powers were unknown to them all, but Misty suspected that being a demon afforded him a plethora of powers.

It would take a miracle to defeat him. Misty frowned, thinking over that last bit. A miracle....

Footsteps, running toward her. Misty reflexivley grabbed the knife she had taken to wearing on her hip, in case there was trouble.

However, it was merely the usual messenger, Julie. "Hold there!" Misty called, standing up, "Identify yourself!"

"The watch is clear!" Julie called, giving the standard phrase, as well as holding up a small white cloth.

"Then the door is open!" Misty called, feeling a little foolish using pass phrases, but Rita had decided they were a neccesity.

Julie approached, wearing a small satchel around her shoulders, "How are things going in there?"

Misty smiled, "You know better then to ask that." Due to the fact that their survival depended on Bathin knowing as little as possible about them, Dom and Rita ordered that runners and messengers who were not actively staying at the hideout were to not know anything.

"Yea, yea, I just get tired of not knowing whats gonna happen," Julie said, "It's been ten months, and we still havn't seen anything happening."

"You want us to rush into this?" Misty countered, "We're doing all we can, you just need to have faith."

"We keep the faith, and we wait." Julie said, half smiling, "I should go. Lilly's insatiable, but even she can't keep the guards busy for long."

"Go then, and good luck." Misty said, waving Julie off. Julie disappeared into the night, the woman moving eerily quiet.

Misty sighed, holding up the note in better light. The code Misty and Bridgette wrote in was fairly foolproof, even Dom and Rita had trouble reading it sometimes, so it was usually up to Misty to translate.

"Ah, fuck." Misty said, reading bridgette's memo. She had better take this to Rita, right away.

Misty went inside the hideout, nodding to the guards as she went. Rita and Dom were probably in the war room, making plans to stop Bathin.

The guards on duty knew her, and let her pass unchallenged. Misty entered, spotting Rita and Dom hunched over the large table that took up the center of the room.

"Misty," Dom said, straightening up, "What news?"

Misty only paused to give Rita awary eye. Even after all this time working with the woman, Misty still couldn't find it in her to fully forgive her. Rita seemed to understand this, and didn't press the issue. "Bridgette sent word. She says Bathin knows we're gonna try to rescue Willow, Bridgette, and the others, and that he has a surprise in store."

"Did she say what kind of surprise?" Dom asked.

Misty shook her head, "No, I don't think Bathin would have given specifics."

"But he knows were coming," Rita said, tapping her nails on the table, "If not exactly when. This works in our favor, at least."

"I don't see how it matters," Misty said, "If he knows were coming, he's probably already got a trap set up."

"It would help if we could confuse Bathin, make him think we weren't coming." Domenica said, "But if he truly can read minds, then I don't see how that's possible."

"It does present certain difficulties," Misty agreed, "All those stories about young kids tricking demons at their own game are horseshit."

"Maybe not," Rita said, cupping her chin in one hand, "I may have an idea that could work. Though it does require a gamble on your lovers part."

"Bridgette? Whats your plan?" Misty asked, suspicious.

"Nothing that should jeapordize her life," Rita said, raising her hands, "But in these times, we need to take risks for the greater good."

"Greater good my ass!" Misty said, "You're one to talk about.."

"Misty!" Domenica said, "That's enough. Rita has paid for her mistake."

Misty blushed, "I'm sorry."

Dom nodded, and turned to Rita, "What is this plan?"

Rita leaned in, motioning for the other two women, and she whispered her plan.

"Hot damn," misty said, "That might work."

"It does seem a bit risky," Dom said, "Are you sure she can pull it off?"

"Between the two of us, Bridgette got the brains," Misty said, "I don't like it, but its our best shot, and Bridgette can pull it off."

Dom nodded, "Very well. If you would be so kind, write to Bridgette, and explain this plan, and let her know we shall try to enact our rescue as soon as we are able."

Misty nodded, and left the room. She ran to the runners command room, a glorified post office, were fresh runners would be sent out, to place their messages in whatever hidey holes Bridgette and the others had managed to secure.

She grabbed a fresh peice of paper, and quickly wrote down her message, and handed it to a fresh faced young runner, a male Misty did not know by name. Within minutes, he was off, moving stealthily through the wilderness.

Misty watched him go with a sense of dread. It was a good plan, one that might very well give them the upper hand, but still, Misty just wished it wasn't Bridgette who had to enact it.

Misty shook her head, they had to do what they had to do. They couldn't afford the luxury of choice, not now. But bloody hell, she was 19, she shouldn't have to do this. None of them should.

A miracle....Suddenly, Misty had an idea. They needed a miracle, and there was only one type of man who could give them one. She needed to find Spoon, and have him help her find such a man. He would be out, rallying new troops. She hurried out, hoping that her own idea had some merit, and hoping Spoon would be able to help.
"Alright, I've been thinking. When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the man whose gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!"


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Skin by Spades aka Volture.