Solace & Taproots

2.6

The group was hauling ass, considering how much loot encumbrance they were dealing with. They beelined for three blocks, then intentionally went off to the side by one more, and ducked into a promising alley. A recycling dumpster behind multiple little specialty retail shops was three-quarters full of old cardboard and packing materials, and they chose it to stash the big bag.

"So, this guy..." Pat leant against a wall under a small door canopy. "You said that first he was trying to kidnap you too? And then helped you find us?"

Rhonda nodded and Bex replied. "Yeah. He seemed... only loosely affiliated with those jackoffs, and came around with some nudges in the right direction." Then, with mock disappointment, "And I was gonna get me an ear..."

Ronnie shook her head. "Can you ever pass up an opportunity for a reference? Plus, you got to shoot them both, and you did get his eyes too." Patrick and Christine looked confused and tentatively horrified.

Dammit... "Not literally!" Bex gestured at Christine and then back at herself, up and down her torso. "Chris, you know what I mean!" She probably did, the body language Bex had spotted so far made her think Chris had Pat pretty well wrapped around her finger. "ANYway. Yes. He was oddly helpful. Also, he had a few opportunities to try to screw us over, and didn't. So..." She glanced at Ronnie for confirmation.

"Yeah, I guess we should go save his ass. It's not like I can complain about being short on ammo."

Bex chuckled and pointed at Ronnie's spare, where she had set it into the dumpster on top of the drag bag. "Or machine guns. Ho ho ho?" Ronnie pointedly ignored her, so Bex consoled herself with mentally pouring one out for Alan Rickman, bless his masterfully sardonic soul.

Ronnie continued, addressing the other two. "I'm not sure what they're planning for us though. So you two may want to sit this..."

"Oh, fuck that." Christine interrupted her, tossing her head to flick her sodden hair over her shoulder and hefting her new shotgun for emphasis. "If he's why we're free from those assholes and now he's in trouble for it? Plus, I'm not exactly happy about getting snatched and locked up for a few days. I'd welcome the chance to go a little 'Shop smart, shop S-Mart' on those fuckers." (Bex smirked at the quote drop.)

Patrick nodded from off to the side. "Where she goes, I follow." Bex had to fight to keep her smirk from growing and suppressed a snarky comment about him just liking the view.

Ronnie had a milder version of that covered. "Well, that is kinda why we're all here in the first place. But, I was hoping the two of you would say something like that. Keep your heads down though, the whole point of coming out here was to get you home."

In a movie adaptation of their adventure, the next few minutes would have been presented as a montage accompanied by kickass heroic music. One short cut after another of magazines being topped off, replacement grenades clipped onto vests, slide racked and weapons shoved into holsters with determined "shunk" noises. Maybe even someone tying on a headband... except what they had instead (insert record-scratch "ziiiiip" noise in soundtrack here) was Christine pulling her damp hair back and tugging on a Starbucks visor.

She made eye contact with Bex and grinned menacingly. "What can I get started for you today, motherfuckers?"

Once the imaginary cinematography returned to normal, Ronnie pulled two sets of headphone / boom mic combinations from the assorted pilfered gear, and handed them over to Patrick and Christine along with her radio, and Branner's reprogrammed to a new channel shared with Bex. "Radio silent until the party starts," she admonished, then passed Bex a pouch about the size of a dozen eggs and gestured for her to attach it to her hip.