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Nov 25 12 3:16 PM

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Blargh, he's part of chapter 2. It's mostly done, I'll hopefully finish the rest tonight.

The feeling of a cool draft is what eventually woke him up. The sounds of dripping water, however, are what threw his eyes wide open.

At least one of them, anyway. His left one was still functioning fine, save for being a little bleary. On the other hand, his right eye was nothing but pitch black. For a second he panicked, thinking for a moment he'd lost it for good. Upon further inspection though, the man found that it had been covered up by wrappings; that and his entire face had been wiped clean of dry blood, since he couldn't feel any of it on his cheek. His head swirled with memories of what had happened, with him trying to piece together all of it to figure out where he was now.

Then he heard it again, water dripping into a container somewhere. It was like a sponge or rag being wrenched dry...actually that's exactly what it sounded like. Now that he thought about it, his face was kind of damp, too. Curiously, he lifted up his head and looked to the side. Hoping not to find another pair of claws waiting for him, the man breathed a sigh of relief when all he found was the redhead from before. She hovered over what looked like a bucket, squeezing bloody water into it from a used up towel. He then realized it was the same one from before and the cogs in his brain subsequently started to turn. Everything that'd happened in the grocery store he remembered, up until the point where his senses failed him and he passed out.

She was crying then. How long ago was that?

It occurred to him that his clothes were dry now. The familiar squish of waterlogged pants was now gone, leaving in its place a much welcomed warmth. He looked down, thinking his shirt and old coat would still be there. Quickly however his content turned to horror, when he realized much to his embarrassment that these weren't the same clothes he was wearing before. Instead of the olive green he expected to see, a white t-shirt was there instead. His blue jeans were different along with the socks on his feet, meaning somebody had changed him. She had changed him.

Did that involve...underwear, too? He silently gaped at the back of the woman's head, not knowing if he should say something or pretend like he didn't notice the new clothes. Either way, it didn't look like he'd win in the end. At least the decision was made for him when all of a sudden she turned around; not knowing he was up, her eyes casually climbed from the floor to meet his. The moment they locked she jumped in surprise, but just as quickly relaxed when she caught sight of the expression on the man's face. To her, it must have been pure gold.

"Relax," she sneered, somehow reading his mind. "I found some clothes in that office back in the grocery store. No underwear."

Immediately the man breathed a sigh of relief, making her laugh in amusement. She then turned back around to finish cleaning the towel, leaving him to get his bearings in this new place he found himself in. Looking around, he could tell that it was some kind of lobby. There were chairs along the walls to either side of him, and potted plants that still looked fresh and green. It was cold inside, the air conditioning probably shut off long ago, but at least it was better than rolling around in the snow. Besides, he had a blanket to keep him warm now. This woman had thought of everything.

She was definitely something else. "So what happened after I passed out? How did we get here?"

"I dragged you here." Balling up her towel, the redhead turned back around to face him. "Scavenged for a few things, then I found this clinic."

Gently she reached for the back of his head and held him still. Though he had no idea why at first she was doing this and found it entirely awkward, he remained silent as she did her thing. Wiggling a loose finger inside his bandages, she pulled it apart just enough to reveal his mutilated eye. Then with the towel she dabbed at it, letting the cool water soak into heated flesh while also cleaning out his wound. Without flinching she did this for a good five minutes as every gentle stroke reveled more of his condition. He knew the prognosis was grim.

"It's bad. You don't have to tell me," the man admitted aloud, his one good eye looking in the opposite direction.

She was silent for a moment. Then after a final dab of water, the woman smiled. "Only if you don't like looking out of two eyes."

"You don't have to lie," he shot back immediately, convinced that any form of comfort from her was born out of pity. "Just tell me if I lost it."

"Look, I wouldn't tell you something if it wasn't true. Especially with a wound this serious. But if my clothes mean anything to you, then take my word for it."

Releasing her hold on him, she made sure he was steady before cleaning off the fresh blood again from her rag. That left the gunman to direct his attention on her back, specifically the woman's clothes; a dark blue over-shirt with black long sleeves underneath it, and matching blue dickies pants with many pockets. More importantly to him though was the insignia on her right collar, a familiar logo of two snakes twirling around some kind of winged staff. It was the tell-tale sign of somebody in the medical profession, a caduceus. And because of her scrubs, he knew right away she was a nurse.

It was so dark outside and with all the chaos surrounding that bird, he never stopped to really see who this person was. No wonder she didn't leave him there to die in the snow, it was in her blood to help him. And not only that, but someone as nice and resourceful as her probably radiated towards people. It didn't matter that he was a complete stranger or even that he tried to save her life. Just by the way she threw herself into that water to save him, the man knew that it had nothing to do with repaying a debt; she would've done it for anybody.

Needless to say his outlook on her changed. "Sorry, I had no idea you were a nurse. I should probably pay more attention."

"Nah, it's okay," the woman smirked before collapsing in front of him. "I didn't really know it myself until I looked down."

"...And what's that supposed to mean?" he asked after a short pause, the confusion obvious across his face.

She in turn looked away and scratched her head, "I, uh...can't really remember anything. It's weird-"

"-You can't remember anything either?" He immediately sat up, his jaw practically on the floor.

All of a sudden they found themselves staring at each other, the same dumbfounded look plastered on their faces. Only the faint sounds of snow falling into clinic windows could be heard between them, and even that wasn't enough to shatter the terrifying silence between them. Absently the man reached for his revolver, finding that it had been returned to its proper holster. For some reason it made him feel better knowing it was there. Not for protection, in fact, he couldn't really say why it soothed him at all. That was part of the problem, he knew nothing about himself.

"Either...?" she repeated slowly. Her calm exterior was quickly replaced with uneasiness. "So you're the same as me?"

The man continued his stare, while on the inside he searched for anything that told him otherwise. To his dismay there wasn't, the only thing there being that swirling, black cloud from before. Nothing lay beyond it except for uncertainty, his existence nothing more than some kind of cruel joke; obviously he had lived before today, but did it really matter if he couldn't remember it? His gun, her clothes, they obviously mean something to one another. And of course there was that did they all fit together? Because it wasn't all coincidence, he at least knew that much.

Instead of answering the woman's question, he asked one of his own. "Did you see anybody when you dragged me here?"

She shook her head. "No, I even looked around after you were situated and stable. If there's a person in this town, they must be hiding."

"So between a deserted town, a psycho bird, and amnesia, the only thing we have keeping us alive is one beat-up old revolver and a badass nurse?"

"Well besides that," the lady countered, fighting very hard the urge to smile. "I also took the liberty of borrowing some food from the grocery store."

Absently she pointed towards a collection of plastic bags in the corner. The man took one look at them and snorted, "Thanks for proving my point."

In them were dozens of cans and boxes, not a perishable in the bunch. Most of the collection were things like ramen and crackers, though at one point he spied a gallon of water. There must have been enough food there to last them a good five days, assuming they only ate enough to fill them up. And if for any reason one of them was injured, the nurse had thought of that too; in the bunches of food were two first-aid kits, no doubt filled with alcohol and bandages. At the time, it didn't cross his mind that everything was technically stolen. Then again, it wouldn't have really mattered. There was nobody to arrest them.

The thought was both terrifying and tantalizing at the same time. They knew for sure that no one was in this town, meaning they were free to do whatever they wanted. Not that it would be much fun with a killer bird flying around above them, but this meant they might actually have a chance to get away at least. Whatever they needed, whether it was food, supplies, clothes, cars...something to get away in. That idea was the one that got him the most excited, the thought of getting away from this hell-hole and finding a city somewhere far away. They could find help.

"Besides all the kissing up, thank you." The woman's voice cut off his train of thought. He looked up to see her there smiling, "You saved my life back there."

The man just sat there and stared for a minute, wondering what she was talking about. Then it hit him, "All I did was miss the shot. That bird's still up there somewhere."

"But you distracted it and gave me a chance to run. If it wasn't for you being there, I'd be the one wrapped up in bandages," she soothed, reaching for his eye.

This time, when her hand came to touch his face, the gunman didn't flinch. It was different this time, or at least it felt that way. In his head he reminded himself that the woman was a professional. Her once icy fingers now held a certain warmth as they brushed along his freshly-red bandages, as if the blind trust he now had in her suddenly made everything better. Granted he had no idea who this person was still or even what to do next, but at least there was somebody who gave a damn about him in this place. If he were all by himself, no doubt he'd have already lost his mind.

Suddenly she put pressure on his wounded eye with her thumb, this time making him cringe in surprise. It obviously hurt him and she immediately pulled away, smiling an awkward apology and explaining that it was just to make sure he still had feeling in it. The man nodded with a subdued chuckle, mouthing an ow underneath his breath as she stopped her examination for good. From then on she just sat there with him, silent. Neither of them felt it necessary to say anything and instead they looked around the shabby clinic or through the window. By now the snow had stopped falling, which left the view outside nice and clear. Clouds that had once blocked their view of the sun quickly began to thin, letting what few rays of light through dark overcasts of gray.

It was nice. This calm falling over them, it was welcome after the hell they'd been through. Both the woman and man stared outside, finding a little hope in this bleak situation they found themselves in. Through both of their heads, the same thought started to take seed; if they were going to get through this, it had to be together. The man especially, he couldn't afford to think otherwise. Without a doubt in his mind, he knew this woman was his ticket to safety. She was smart, resourceful, kind, pretty much everything he hadn't been up till this point. Wounds not withstanding.

"So after all this time, I still don't know what to call you." Her crisp voice interrupted the gunman's thoughts once again, making his head snap towards her direction.

To be completely honest, he hadn't the faintest idea what his name was. Knowing her, she had the same problem. "No clue. Like I said, everything's a blank."

"Right," she sighed, rubbing the side of her face with an open palm. "Well, same here. Maybe we should give each other names? Like, John Doe or-"

"-Not really feeling the whole fake name thing, sorry." Raising his brow, the man smirked out of amusement. The woman, of course, huffed.

"Fine then, we won't do that. But I'm not going to refer to you as you forever, so we'd mine as well settle on something at least."

Thinking for a moment, the man looked up towards the ceiling. Then out of nowhere it popped in his head, "Call me Colt."

As if to stop her before she asked why, the gunman absently reached for his revolver. He held it out in front of him for both to see and immediately she made a face, finding the whole concept of nicknames to be a bit silly. But after looking at the worn-out gun, then back up at him, she quickly relented. The name just seemed to fit him and he agreed; it was the only thing he had to go on, really. His identity was in that firearm, along with his past, so it made sense to take its name. At least until they could straighten things out. Until then, he'd happily accept the name Colt.

"Well, if you're going to name yourself after a gun, then I wanna be called Sparrow," she smirked, closing her eye matter-of-factly.

"...What?" the newly named Colt asked, finding it a weirder choice that his own. "Why do you want to be called that?"

The woman grinned ear-to-ear. "Nothing important. Just to remind me who had to save you after being attacked by a little, tiny pigeon!"

"You're real mature," he shot back, shaking his head. Still, the gunman held out his hand without any apprehension.

And she took it just as quickly. They shook on it, as if promising to each other that they'd stick by their names until they made it out in one piece. Colt and Sparrow, two unlikely people in an unlikely situation, looked one another in the eyes and smiled. Blue and brown mixed, the former much softer at the sight of the latter's lonely shade. In time they'd be able to see past the bandages but for now, things were just as well.

"Nice to meet you, Colt." Sparrow continued to smile as she pulled her her hand away, giving him some space.

He nodded back in silent reply, hoping that'd be enough. When she didn't say anything back, that was his cue to look around and scope the place out again. Feeling better than before, he went ahead and tried getting up on his own. Sparrow watched, warily, as he threw the blanket off of him and scrambled to his feet. It didn't take much to get going, but the real problem was his head. Just as soon as he hopped up to his feet, blood immediately rushed up and made him dizzy. His eye suddenly ached from the pressure and he began to stumble, though thankfully there was a nurse in the clinic.

Before he could fall backwards she caught him, albeit it awkwardly. Still sitting down, she pushed him up with all her strength and at the same time struggled to get up as well. After a minute of fighting with gravity, both of them eventually made it up. And despite his initial protests, Sparrow glared the injured man into submission; she'd escort him wherever he wanted, since he obviously couldn't walk straight on his own. With a roll of his eye, Colt begrudgingly accepted and started off down the main lobby. Together, they hobbled around to find anything that could be of help.

Everything seemed...fresh. Like, the people working there had just left for lunch or something. The potted plants were still vibrant and green, that'd already been pointed out. But the computers were still on, the lights were working just fine, and even a television in one of the waiting rooms was on like somebody had been watching it recently. As they walked down a lonely corridor it was the same thing, over and over again. Signs of life everywhere and yet not a soul in the clinic. Come to think of it, the grocery store had been like that too. Hell, the water was running fine at least.

Something had happened to the people of this town. For whatever reason, they weren't there anymore. Colt bit his tongue nervously, knowing that the bird had something to do with it but having no clue as to exactly how. His only guess was that it might have scared everyone off, though that didn't make much sense either. Someone would have tried to kill it and knowing that beast, there'd have been a struggle. There was no blood anywhere, except for his own, and everything seemed completely untouched. No, something unnatural was up and it fell on them to figure it out.

After seeing all they could see, the pair trekked back towards the lobby. "Any suggestions about what to do now?"

"Well," Sparrow sighed, making a face as if debating with herself. "I could always leave you here and try looking for people again."

"Would you make up your mind already? First you want to leave me, then you don't, and now you want to leave me again. Face it. You're stuck with me."

She glared at him from the corner of her eye, but then relented. "Okay, okay. But you're still injured and I don't want to put a strain on you. We should get out of this town."

Colt nodded, having no qualms with getting the hell out of there. It was deserted and dangerous, more than likely a lost cause. The best course of action would be to find someplace else safer that they could sort things out in, preferably a big city or something. With that in mind, the pair wasted no time in getting prepared. Sparrow reluctantly released her grip on the man and let him walk about on his own, while she went the opposite direction and got to work gathering the food and supplies. Likewise, Colt went towards the front door.

His head and mind settled, he firmly grabbed hold of the handle and opened it to look outside. Immediately, a rush of cold air came into the clinic and surrounded him as he stepped out. Quickly throwing his head to either side, Colt found nothing out of the ordinary; there was snow on the ground, some cars in the street, though everything was empty as expected. No giant bird. No killer fountains of water. Everything was cold and barren, meaning their escape would be easier than he expected. Unless of course the bastard was waiting for them.

"I think we're good, I don't hear anything." Giving one last look in both directions, he then turned back around to eye Sparrow as she came towards him.

"Good, I've got the food and stuff. We should be okay for a while," the woman sighed tiredly, struggling to carry everything. "Do you have the gun?"

Grabbing some of the bags from her, Colt double checked. "Yeah, not going to forget it again. I'll need to find some more bullets soon though."

"How many do you have?" Not waiting for a reply, Sparrow stepped past him and through the door. She was already sick of this place.

Thinking for a moment, it occurred to him that he hadn't actually checked. Quickly, Colt pulled out the gun from its holster and looked at the chambers; three. So far they'd used half the bullets, which was pretty good considering how much shit they'd gotten themselves into. It would have to do for now. In the meantime, his focus was on catching up with Sparrow who, despite having been with him moments before, was now already halfway down the street. The moment he looked up, Colt panicked and shoved the gun in its holster. He made a mad dash to catch up with her, the whole time cursing underneath his breath at this woman who was supposed to be helping him get out of there.

She'd stopped by a car and was looking inside, which thankfully gave him the time to get to where she was. He huffed as the icy air burned his lungs, his body apparently not used to living in such cold weather. Annoyed and woozy, he growled at the woman and asked what she was doing. Sparrow let her eyes linger inside the car for a moment before looking up at him, her face heavy with a look of contemplation.

"We need to get out of here, right?" she asked, to which Colt nodded apprehensively. "And there's nobody in this town to arrest us, right?"

The injured gunman raised a brow, "Well, yeah...I mean, I guess so. You're uh, not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you-?"

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Dec 1 12 2:50 AM

As if to answer his question, the redhead reached over and stuck her hand in one of the bags he was carrying. Speechless, Colt watched her remove a heavy, industrial-looking flashlight from it. She inspected it for a second, then without a word returned to the car window. Eyeing the inside one last time, Sparrow tried jiggling the door open one last time. When that didn't work, she took a step back and raised the flashlight above her head.

"You're not going to do it, are you?" Colt repeated, his eyes suddenly growing very wide. "Sparrow?"

To his horror, the brazen woman dropped the few bags she was carrying and took hold of her bludgeon with both hands. Then before he could do anything to stop her, she slammed the thing down into the car window with a loud crash. Tiny shards of glass flew in every direction, most of them falling onto the driver's side seat instead of the sidewalk. Colt's jaw nearly dropped when she continued to knock out what little remained of the window, her flashlight scraping along the door itself to clean out the hard-to-get spots. This woman was out of her mind!

And just as casually as she started, Sparrow stopped. With nothing between her and the lock, the nurse nonchalantly reached inside and opened the door. Colt just stood there, bags in tow, as she wiped off the shards of glass then scrambled inside. Instead of taking up the wheel though, Sparrow crawled underneath the dash. Letting her feet dangle outside, she searched around for something in particular. Almost immediately Colt knew what it was, but just couldn't believe it; what the hell did she know about hot-wiring a car?

"You're awesome," he sighed, shaking his head in amazement. "Who knew someone like you was such a hard-ass?"

Amidst grunts of frustration, Sparrow called back to him, "Don't go thanking me just yet because...I have no idea what I'm doing."

"...You're kidding me," Colt replied evenly. Staring at those dangling legs of hers, the sight just went from being impressive to kind of pathetic.

"You, uh, just have to cut a wire or something, right? I think that's how they do it!" She tried to sound optimistic, though it only managed to aggravate him.

With another shake of his head, the tired man dropped his bags on the floor. He went up to stick his head in the car, then muttered, "Just move out of the way, I got it."

Finding a hand dangling in front of her face, Sparrow had no choice but to take it. She gave an embarrassed grin as their eyes fleetingly passed each other, the brunt of his attention already on the dash. Colt collapsed into the car, having more than enough room to operate in the decently sized sedan. This time it was his legs sticking out as the sound of clamoring hands filled the otherwise quiet street. Meanwhile, the redhead nurse stood there silently, poking her head over the door to sneak a peak at him working. This time, it was her turn to be amazed.

"I understand why an innocent lady like me doesn't know how to hot-wire a car, so tell me why a clean-cut stranger like you does?" she teased, having too much fun with this.

In between rocking the car with his weight and huffing from the freezing interior, he replied, "How should I know? Maybe I'm a thief and I don't even know it?"

Sparrow looked up for a second and contemplated before shrugging it off. If he really was a thief, it made no difference to her. It's not like she had anything to steal and besides the guy owed her; nobody would stab someone in the back after saving their life, no matter how rotten they were. Besides, he seemed like a nice enough person. He didn't have to shoot that bird, or be so polite. Then again, that gun was a little unsettling. People carried them around all the time but, knowing how to hot-wire a car on top of that was a little fishy. For the moment though, that was more of a personal problem on her part.

"I think," Colt suddenly called out from the car, as the sound of a spark followed right after. "I've got it!"

"Great! So we can go now?" she clapped her hands together, hoping now they could get out of the frigid morning air.

The one-eyed gunman pulled himself out and dusted his hair off, "Not yet, I've still got one more thing to do before it'll drive."

Sparrow cocked her head to the side, wondering what he was talking about. Quickly though, she decided she didn't like where things were headed when he reached into the holster on his belt and pulled out the revolver. Giving it the once over, he made sure the cylinder was working properly. When Colt found it acceptable, he then casually slid back into the driver's side seat and motioned for her to follow suit.

"Get in. I don't want you on this side of the car," he instructed simply.

Warily she obeyed, however her full attention was on the gun the entire time she made her way towards the passenger door. Finding it unlocked, she slid in beside him and remained quiet. With hands in her lap, she continued to stare at the weapon in his hand. That thought from before, about him being a thief, quickly came back to the forefront of her mind. Nobody was in this town, right? If something happened to her...well, that'd be that. Nobody would be there to help. If Colt wanted to, he could rob her blind. She had nothing, but whose to say he knew that?

"What's the gun for?" Sparrow asked bluntly, making a face as he held it out in front of him.

Colt looked at her and smiled, "Well, I don't have a screwdriver one me so this'll have to do for now."

Without a second thought, he took the barrel of the gun and put it an inch or so above the ignition. Eyes wide, Sparrow had no time to say anything before he pulled the trigger and a loud bang echoed inside the tiny car. She screamed and ducked her head, while Colt couldn't help himself but to laugh and tell her not to worry. Despite his attempts at easing her though, the redhead stayed completely still in shock. It wasn't until a minute later she finally looked up and found him there, a shit-eating grin on his face as if the whole this was just so hilarious to him.

"Are you fricken crazy! Who goes around shooting a gun like that!" she screamed again, scarlet dusting her face.

Colt didn't flinch, "I had to break the tumblers on the lock, otherwise it wouldn't start. Sorry if I scared you was pretty funny."

Sparrow took one look at him and tried her damnedest not reach over and smack that sneer off his face. If it wasn't for those bandages she would've, in a heartbeat, but injuring him any further wasn't in her agenda. She did however make it clear just how pissed off she was; if there was a color redder than her hair, it painted every corner of her cheeks as she glared pure poison at him. Colt knew right away to stop while he was ahead and, letting his grin die in the face of her fury, took the only thing he could find that would fit inside the ignition.

There was a little swiss-army knife in the center console. He found it after a little bit of digging, figuring that it must've belong to a child due to its size. Either way, it was perfect for the job. He pulled the knife portion out and carefully inserted it into the ignition, not all the way but just long enough to actually move the lock. Then when he turned it on and hoped for the best, Colt sighed in relief when their car roared to life without a hitch. Cold air immediately blasted them from the a/c, which he promptly twisted to full blown heat; the windows needed to de-thaw anyway.

"Looks like it's working fine," he muttered, checking over the dash to make sure that they still had gas.

"Good, now get out of that seat. I'm not letting you drive," Sparrow shot back, not just a request, but a command.

Colt looked at her and scowled, "Why? I'm the one who started this thing. If I get tired of driving, you and I can switch, okay?"

"You seem smart enough, maybe it's because you're a man." Huffing, she reached over and grabbed his shoulder, "You have no depth perception!"

The look on his face went from annoyed to subdued. It hadn't occurred to him that the bandages were still there, he couldn't see anything out of his right eye. Maybe that wouldn't be such a problem while driving in a town with no people, but who's to say that they wouldn't see other drivers once they got onto the highway or something? That was the whole point anyway, to find help, and it was counterproductive to kill anyone on the road who could become their potential savior. Which is why when it came right down to it, Colt wasn't going to argue this time.

He dropped his head in disappointment and threw the car door open as Sparrow did the same with hers. They got out and went around the front, quickly so as to get back in the slightly warmer car. Colt fell into place where Sparrow had been, while the latter took over his spot at the wheel. She immediately started adjusting the seat and mirrors, while her sulking friend was reduced to throwing the chair back to lay down, since there was nothing else better for him to do. He simply closed his eyes and got ready to pass out once they got on the road.

"Alright, good to go. We've got all the groceries, too!" Sparrow beamed, clearly happy to be the one driving. She looked over to Colt and smiled, "You ready, partner?"

From the depths of his closed eyelids, Colt suddenly stirred. He opened the only one not bandaged up, which also happened to be the one closest to Sparrow. From his point of view, she was turned around to face him. Her out-of-place exuberant face was weird to him, but he wasn't complaining. That and the fact she called him partner, for some reason it just sort of clicked in his head. That word, for whatever reason, meant something to him, and hearing her say that was all he needed. Whatever was in his past, it came back to haunt him when he smirked back at her and replied,

"Yeah, sure thing partner."

They were going to get through this. Whatever this was, he hadn't figured out yet. Demon birds, living water, something out of a B-horror movie but still real nonetheless. Nightmarish things and yet, for all the crap they'd been through, things weren't really so bad. They weren't alone. That was the biggest thing, having someone to rely on when the world feels like its crashing down all around you. This woman, Sparrow, she was literally his saving grace. If it hadn't been for her shooting at that bird, taking care of him, changing him, he'd be in bad shape right now. Probably dead.

It was for this reason he made a promise to himself. As he watched Sparrow put the car in gear and slowly start to coast into the street, Colt told himself that he'd be of some use to her, too. When these bandages came off, and even before then, he'd do his part to help her through this. He wouldn't be the weak-link in their quest to find someone other than themselves. She protected him, so he'd protect her. He had the gun and the apparent knowledge to use it, which would be vitally important now that their bullet count had just dropped, now down to a measly two.

That was his goal, his mission; to make sure both of them made it out in one piece. And though he didn't look much like it now, he knew that would change in due time. For now, he'd take the current lull and get some more rest. With the rumbling of the engine and the sound of Sparrow humming some tune, he let his head fall to the side to look out the window. Buildings were already starting to become less frequent, meaning the tiny little town of hell was now getting farther away. All the same to him, the sooner they got out of there the better.

He just focused on that song Sparrow was humming and tried not to pass out, or at least make it seem like he was trying. The longer he listened, the harder it was to keep his eyes open. By the time he realized it, that the song wasn't actually a song but a lullaby, he was already too far gone. His eyelids were heavier than bricks and slowly but surely, by the time they hit they highway, Colt had long since passed out. And when the redheaded woman looked over to check on her handiwork, she was pleased to find him there slumped over and out like a light.

He never saw it coming, she thought to herself with a grin. Now the rest of her drive could be made in peace.

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