The string that they followed was cut to the end, showing the building Michael and Diane was at before. "It seems that they were either lost or taken." Roger theorized, holding the knot that hold the thread and foundation. Turning over, the blacksmith gave his attention to his companion.
"It's the second one." she said, tracing some footprints made from the Tartarus position as known some few hours ago. It was deep enough to be seen and brushed off. "Why do you desire to go with them?" Barbara queried, standing up from her kneeling position. "They made our living worse for wear and let some of those undead be at our base!"
"I know. Please trust me on this." His hammer was well-kept but that's the only remnant they have in the terms of his profession. "You really have a bad instinct." she sighed out, going to his front. "Then again, whoever the hell we meet with our sonars are, they're either nice or more normal than I thought they would be." Barbara groaned, stretching her arms.
"At least they aren't in our keisters everyday." he quipped, laughing to his own joke. "Look, I want to give back what they deserve."
"An ass whooping?" Taken aback at what she said, Roger denied "God, no!" Then he considered. "I guess so. BUT that doesn't indicate we'll do it!"
"I realized that." she commented, proceeding back with "You should understand that they already are if they're taken. I mean, that's obvious enough." The theory they have is shallow and only with a piece of speculation. It's a bit off with getting 'taken'. Since they only met Michael and Diane, they were false on that since Michael craved to be jailed. For an old acquaintance.
"Does the battery still work there?" his companion asked, tapping her toes. Pushing the handheld sonar open, he saw the battery sign on it. Halfway filled and currently yellow. "Yeah. Only until 6 p.m., I think."
The gadgetry was similar to that of a submarine, but more modified. More for land than water, which was difficult as many moving creatures were disrupting it. Which is why the colouring was there. "It's only us and a few yellows here."
"Animals still walk here?"
"Insects, more likely."
"Ah of course. I forgot the flying fucks that are the cockroaches." The outcome was a long, pregnant pause. The blacksmith had a baffled face, blank and mouth agape. "Excuse me, what?" "What do you mean what?" she shot back, smiling while her palms are on her hips.
"Barbara... The hell do you imply by 'flying fucks that are cockroaches'?" Breathing in as deep as he can, he added "Why have I not realize this before?" Now with concern, Barbara asks back "What do you mean? You didn't think they flew?"
"I'd not think of that. For the love of God, delete that from my brain." he murmurs to himself, screaming on the inside. "Fuck it." Roger threw his arms out, walking outside for now.
"Well, there's nothing more than just flying cockroaches." she shrugged yet had a thought for a moment. "Are— are you that afraid of cockroaches?" That deduction let the legs of the blacksmith walk faster. Hoping to go elsewhere from the topic, he shied away to the woods, tripping over the string. "Ouch."
YOU ARE READING
Undead Brotherhood
Science Fiction"You'll see the wit of the undying and the strength of humanity's end. Cliché galore, come round for more... I really don't want to say anything anymore, this is just what he wrote and... Too cheesy, ugh. Oh well. See you in the flip-side." "YOU MOT...
