It was a little cramped inside. That wasn't just because of the two differently sized seats from two completely different cars, nor was it the modified floorboard. In combination, those two things would have been enough--but all of the little makeshift electronic panels, dials and various things that seemed they must be there for more than merely show filled almost the remainder of the car. There simply was no back seat, no doubt making room for... well, perhaps things better left imagined.
Had Ally not been thin and petite in the first place, there would have been no way she could have fit in the little space allotted for the passenger and be able to close the door. Finding herself successfully inside, she gave the driver a mild look of annoyance. "Not much for traveling with other people, are you?"
His initial response was a smug grin as he closed his own door and started the engine. It was one hell of an interesting sound, not quite the auditory love child of a jet plane and a muffler-disabled VW bug on it's last legs. Only after his prized possession was "purring" did he turn back to her. "Never did have to worry about traveling with anyone."
No kidding. "No family?"
"Nope." He pulled out of the garage with a careful gait.
"No love interest?" Not that she was interested, herself...
"Nope." Quickly throwing the door open, he pulled the garage closed behind him before jumping back in to continue their journey.
"No friends?" she continued her line of questioning.
"Can't really trust them now, can I?" he gave her a wink, speeding up a bit as they turned off the dirt road and onto the small paved highway.
While she wasn't certain if she should ask... "And you trust me?"
"I didn't say that."
"Hmph." He hadn't even looked away from the road when he'd responded... which really just gave her a chuckle. At least it served to put her a bit more at ease... even if she wasn't certain that was the best thing. Not yet, anyway... But then, there were so many more questions to judge him by. "So... how the hell are homing missiles and machine guns supposed to fit in this car?"
"They're... 'special'." When that answer clearly wasn't going to go over well, he elaborated. "Let's call them miniature versions of the real thing, then."
Suddenly she had the severely necessary urge to slam her head into the dashboard, repeatedly. Exactly how she was able to restrain herself... "And just how effective are 'mini missiles'?"
He let an amused grunt slip through. "You'd be surprised."
At that point? Unlikely. "Am I to assume you don't have these legally?"
"Only depending upon your definition of legality."
She really didn't want to respond to that. Granted, logic dictated that she attempt to define legality, out loud. But one had to choose their battles and save their energy in certain situations. She just couldn't help another question before dropping it altogether, though. "Why did you feel the need to arm your car?"
"I left special forces on bad terms." He simplified. "And I tend to stick my nose where it gets me into the most trouble."
Actively pretending not to understand completely, she stared straight ahead. Wow had life changed all of a sudden. Again. How fucking aggravating. Interesting, granted... but aggravating.
"Sure are full of questions, aren't you?" he prodded delicately.
"Haven't even started." She confirmed. "I'm young and inquisitive."
"Uh-huh." He had known very quickly that she was someone to watch out for... if he felt he'd needed to. It seemed in the end that she was just intelligent. And perhaps a little too willing to let her curiosity lead her on, but he could relate to that.
As if following close behind his line of thought, the questions began anew. "And you know of this 'Hotel Loony'... how?"
Well now. Here came the impasse. He glanced over, wondering exactly what he ought to say. Maybe she knew more than she was letting on... but he seriously doubted this Nick guy knew all that much himself. "I'll make you a deal, Ally."
Oh, she did not like where that was going. "You should be aware I'm a foster child." She warned. "Every time I hear bullshit like that, I gotta leave before it gets ugly."
That silenced him for almost an entire mile. "I was going to say, that when you can shoot with at least 90% accuracy from a hundred yards, you can have the whole story."
Hm. And still there was suspicion here. "You think I'm capable?"
"Anyone can learn if they really want to."
"And that would be helpful to you?"
He raised an eyebrow, deciding perhaps it would be better to keep an eye on the road rather than look over and possibly reveal too much under a less than stellar poker face. "I didn't bring you along to be a tool. But if you decide to stick with me and be useful... I won't refuse."
She gave that response an awful lot of thought. There was option weighing; it didn't seem as if he was the sort that would be after Nick for negative purposes. Though she didn't know...
Hand tight on the wheel, he made the wide turn onto the town's main road. "It's a human experiments ward sanctioned mostly by private donations." He admitted quietly. "But, the government knows about it. They just refuse to ask enough questions to become associated with it. Until certain special forces units require implants."
Aha. "Which explains you leaving on bad terms, I assume?"
"I wouldn't have, if all had gone according to plan. But then, I was a curious person." He admitted, thinking back with a bitter sort of humor. "I made the slight 'misjudgment' of wandering down the wrong hall and seeing some... 'mistakes'."
A shiver made its way down her spine. "When was this?"
"About a year ago." He turned into a large parking lot overlooking the street so they wouldn't miss the Bronco. "I didn't actually run into your Nick fellow, but when he suddenly appeared at the house at the end of the road, I took an interest. The conclusion came pretty quickly."
Yeah, she could see that. Not many people would have those teeth, regardless of their lifestyle... and if Nick had seen there was a new neighbor, he might have gone down the road to greet out of necessity or friendliness... "And what are your intentions with Nick?"
The way she'd phrased the question... it made him laugh, dammit. "You two aren't related, right?"
"Right." She grinned in spite of herself. "Just thought I should ask."
He pondered the question of intention with all seriousness. "He's a nice guy." He settled upon, simply.
"There must be more." Her voice wasn't accusatory... but it was quiet, delving.
"Curiosity." He admitted. "I have to know what the hell is going on. And what's going to happen. I never did find out exactly what they did at that loony bin... And that... that guy... the doc..."
"The Good Doctor." She nearly growled.
He nodded to himself. "That name fits. Gave me the creeps."
A ball of anger burned heavily in her stomach. "Did you meet his pleasant assistant?"
He actually had to ponder that for a minute. "Yeah, I think so. Pretty dull guy. Nondescript."
"I broke two of his fingers." She let a mild haze of self-satisfaction settle. "Thought I broke Psycho-Doc's knee, but I guess I just wounded it a little."
"Shame." He agreed.
Silence passed for several minutes as they kept their eyes open for any unusual activity. The road was quiet, but not unusually so. They'd see the Bronco if it passed.
But then, another thought came to mind... "And what were you picking at in those coffee cans?"
"Suicide pills."
That earned a long, steady look. "Really?"
"No." He laughed. "Tranquilizers, though. Just in case."
The "just in case" made her wince a little. She rather hated to imagine what the hell could happen that would require... any kind of drugs... Especially the kind stored in coffee cans in the garage of a conspiracy theorist. Yeah. Words to the wise.
The sight of a moving yellow monster caught her eye, knocking her thoughts to hell. Without a doubt, that was the Bronco. At the wheel, however... it looked like a whole other person. Like some kind of... psychotic clown, almost. His hair stuck up in a messy nest, eyes wide but seeming to be dead and sightless, and... and the smile... It wasn't a smile, it couldn't have been... but it was frightening; a more than wicked version of a child's nightmare... those unreal teeth exposed like weapons...
And that sweater. Somehow that was what disturbed Ally most of all. That sweater... she recognized. As having once classified him as a well-meaning, English-looking gentleman. It made her nauseous.
Rex noticed with a quick glance. "Still up to following?"
She didn't miss a beat. "Yes."
Well, hey. She was the boss. He shifted into gear and waited a good distance... then pulled out and rode behind.
There
were
many miles of silence. Not that either of them had much
conversation
to accomplish in that time... but it wasn't the most comfortable
silence.
Then, it wasn't even uncomfortable--just annoyed. Especially when
the Bronco started going much faster than the legal limit.
"Dammit."
Rex cursed, trying to keep up without catching the eye of the
police.
Certainly there was no escape for a car so clearly illegal to have on
the
road... except of course for "special" paperwork. That would work
in a snap--except for the large red expiration date at the
bottom.
He'd have to find a way out of that sometime soon. Covering it
with
his thumb would only work for so long.
A
sudden, out of nowhere sort of realization hit her a little too
hard.
"I have no idea where I am."
He
opened his mouth to give her some smart-assed response... then realized
the nature of her question. "It's a little town called
Appleton.
Well, we just left Appleton. Now we're on the highway leading
around
the goddamn city... so I hope he'll stay on this road and not go into
the
heart of the madness. Then we'll never be able to keep up."
She
watched the tail end of the ugly yellow beast, looking very much as
though
it were trying to disappear even on the nearly abandoned road.
Where
the hell could he be going... Not back to the Good
Doctor..?
She hoped to hell not. She wasn't ready for that. Hadn't
learned
to be a good enough shot, to say the least. Not that it would
matter...
she had rage on her side--
The
car sped up tremendously, the near identical sound of a jet plane never
more apparent than it was when the engine gunned. Rex almost
apologized,
sounding more like a frustrated sound in his throat as he darted into
the
left lane and stepped on the gas again. "He's gotta know we're
behind
him now."
She
swallowed, feeling her heartbeat begin to race in her throat. Now
what? "Plan?"
"Follow."
He simplified, unable to come up with a better one for the moment.
Then
it happened--and exactly how was too much of an adrenaline blur
to really understand. They'd caught sight of the barrel from the
Bronco's window for only a moment, some kind of large gun with a bullet
strong enough to pierce the armor of the trailing vehicle. It was
just too late by the time they'd realized the shell of Nick had slowed
down and fired, then sped off before any retaliation could come.
The
armed car slowed and spun a little as Rex cursed through his
teeth.
"You should have told me."
Told
him wh-- Then she saw the blood from his leg. Great, just
great.
Without being told, she added her hands to his wound to help stop the
flow.
"I didn't know he'd have a fucking gun!"
Trying
to ignore the pain with several small breaths, he let her hold pressure
while he began to tear the sleeve from his shirt. "You didn't see
any in the house?"
"No.
But then I didn't snoop around much, either."
Successfully
detaching the sleeve, he indicated that she hold the fabric rather than
his leg. "What the hell kind of foster child are you?"
"Jackass."
She accused, watching him lift his own leg so she could slide the cloth
underneath. That much accomplished, she left him up to tying it
off.
One hole--the bullet was still in there. Might not be the worst
thing.
At least there was only one wound... not that it'd make him feel any
better,
she was certain. Well, only one thing left to do. "Under or
over?"
The
very question didn't quite make sense. "What?"
She
took another glance at his leg. Seeing as how it would no longer
be useful for driving... "Can you better climb under or over?"
Still
he was puzzled. "To do what?"
A
quick sigh. "I'm driving, moron."
"I
don't think--"
"There's
no time to stroke your car's nonexistent ego right now, okay?"
"Don't
talk to her like that." He surrendered quietly.
"Jesus,
fucking, Heratio, Christ." She mumbled, climbing over him
regardless
of the panels and wires, or of his preference.
She
was just about to sit on his wounded leg when he finally pulled himself
from under her, sensing her intention. "Can you drive stick sh--"
The
tires spun as a shrill grinding sound roared underneath, sending them
screaming
down the road. "It's not like they're new tires." She cut
him
off before he had the chance to complain.
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