GANG RELATED [SWEET PEA] [✔️]

FIFTEEN || FAMOUS LAST WORDS

Dallas had been running all her life. She'd run from her parents, she'd run from her gang, she'd run from Fallon. But right now, she was running for her life, gun in her hand, Calaveras on her tail.

She shrieked as a bullet whizzed over her head, the sleeve of her jacket torn from one that had narrowly grazed her arm.

Just when Dallas thought she couldn't run any longer, the growl of a bike sounded as Dixie pulled up next to her. "Let's go!" Dixie cried, ripping her helmet off her head and handing it to Dallas, the girl clambering onto the back of Dixie's bike.

Dixie drove the bike forward, Dallas holding on for dear life. The roar of more motorcycles cut the air, signaling the pursuit of more Calaveras. "Shit," Dixie spit, speeding up as she saw the bikers in her mirrors, knowing she couldn't take her hands off of the handlebars to reach the gun tucked into her waistband.

Another bullet streaked past the pair, the bike climbing to 90 miles an hour. They practically flew over the bridge, and rapidly approached Dead Man's Curve.

"Holy shit, Dixie, they're catching up!" Dallas screamed, and Dixie, who was always sure, who had never misjudged a turn in her life, turned too sharp, too fast. The bike flipped, skidding across the pavement with a horrific screech like nails on a chalkboard. Somewhere, there was a low, strangled, scream. Then crushing silence.

"Just leave 'em, ese, they took care of themselves."

The Calaveras thought they were dead.

Through spotted vision, Dallas registered Dixie lying on the asphalt, no helmet covering her cognac hair. To her horror, a dark red pool was spreading out from under her head, and she opened her mouth to scream. Then her vision blackened, and everything was gone.

_________

Fallon was frozen.

It felt like every single muscle in her body had siezed, one hand clamped down over her mouth and the other white knuckling the handle of her gun.

Dallas and Dixie were strewn lifelessly over the pavement, both of them crumpled, Dixie partially trapped beneath her motorcycle. She couldn't see their pursuers, but she heard faint voices and then the rumble of motorcycle engines as they drove off, leaving Fallon alone with the gory scene.

Numbly, she forced herself forward, holstering her gun with shaking hands and wrenching her phone from her pocket as she stumbled towards Dallas.

She dialled 911, stammering her way through her location and what happened. The operator assured her that an ambulance was on the way, and Fallon hung up, dropping to her knees beside Dallas. "D-Dallas...Dallas, it's m-me, it's Fallon....c'mon, Dally, wake up..." Fallon choked, her hands on Dallas's shoulders. Lowering her ear to Dallas's mouth, she felt the slight rush of breath from her nose. She was alive, but Fallon didn't know for how long.

"Dally, wake up!" Fallon cried a little louder, but Dallas didn't open her eyes.

Fallon registered that Dixie lay on the pavement a few feet away, and her eyes widened in horror when she saw the blood on the ground beneath Dixie's head, the already unnatural pale sheen on her skin.

"Oh god...oh god, oh god, oh, oh Dixie no..." Fallon gasped, skittering over on hands and knees, feverishly placing two fingers on the artery at Dixie's throat. No heartbeat. No pulse. Dixie Davenport was dead.

The paramedics arrived to a weeping Fallon, and as much as they disagreed with the patches on the three Serpents' backs, the EMTs saw them for what they were: kids.

Through the fog of grief, Fallon heard "critical condition", "emergency room", and most painfully, "DOA". She repeated everything she knew wouldn't raise suspicion, robotically describing it as "an accident."

"We were coming home," She said, "Dixie took the turn too fast. I stopped to check on them when I heard it behind me. It was an accident."

As Dixie was zipped into a body bag, Fallon's stomach churned. She knew this wasn't the last of her friends she'd see die in this war, and that thought broke her heart.

She dialled a number on her phone, and when Jughead answered with a sleep-rough voice, Fallon sobbed. "Get to Riverdale General. Now."