There was no pause in Peircen's frantic effort to free herself as the fox started to confront Kensie; she made a futile effort to control her breathing and suck in her gut, trying to draw even the smallest bit of slack in the strap, but she was much too tense, and starting to hyperventilate. Regardless, she managed to draw her left elbow above the strap just as Jacob turned back to her, pausing for only a second to glance up at him with a petrified expression, the reflection of the small flame dancing in her wide, blood shot eyes. She was staring death in the face; a horrible death. "This is it" was her last fleeting thought just before Kensie plowed into him. As the fox sprung right back, the jaguar planted her boot firmly against the ground, giving herself a nice solid shove backwards, which pushed the chair screeching across the floor a good foot. She'd push the chair back once again, trying to put as much distance as she could between her and the two. The high pitched, metallic chatter of the chair moving across the floor lingered in her ears as the café fell into complete silence; intensively watching the two stare each other down while gradually drawing her left arm up as the strap held her right arm firmly in place, pulling on and off until she could draw enough slack in the rope to slip her left hand free.
Kurt's chest collapsed in a heavy sigh as Jacob finally decided to comply fallowing the drawn out silence, feeling relieved that the shark had established some order. Kensie was somebody he had assumed from the beginning to be level headed, which was a lucky assumption, since sanity wasn't exactly commonplace, not in this world.
Spinelli glanced over her shoulder, getting a quick glimpse of Jacob's dark figure before skittishly looking away as he made his way over to her. She'd shrug her shoulders and dip her chin as he arrived behind her, the unpleasant thought of getting her throat slit crossed her mind just before he'd cut her loose and draw the bag from her back. The bag was packed with a variety of items with a variety of purposes; a thin blue binder, sketch pad, black plastic hard case filled with medical supplies, AR15 cleaning kit and spare parts wrapped in a grey towel, 10oz plastic flask, a half case of AR rounds (14), pens, empty shells and other random clutter, most of which went falling to the floor. The doberman kept her head low, flinching as Jacob threw the olive drab canvas bag to the ground, then flinching once again as he shattered the panes on his way out.
Without looking up, she'd slip from the chair and kneel amongst her things, hesitating for a second before she'd reach out for the binder, which had fallen face first and spilt some of its loose contents. She'd hastily organize the papers before opening a folder near the back, drawing through the papers one by one. She had ignored the sketch pad, which lay open to a page with a large inked crest, which depicted the side profile of an anthro ram skeleton sitting on its haunches with an arm at its side, idly wielding a sword, while the other forehand was raised as if to strike. The head had winding crooked horns that looked up at a 45-degree-angle swastika that hovered in the upper left corner of the crest, labeled at top and bottom with "2nd SS Armored Platoon." The art looked as if it was designed to be a stencil.
"When I got drafted into the SS, we had mandatory mapping studies" Spinelli said as she slowly stood up, holding the open binder into the light so that she could better make out what she was looking at. "The hospital and clinic are quite vast, so the studies varied depending on the squad. Since they'd rarely have us rotate" she continued, pulling out a small stack of papers, closing the binder to lay them on top before sorting through them again. "I know most of the clinic main building and parts of the hospital like the back of my hand, mainly the civilian sectors, since I was part of a policing unit" she continued while drawing a few pages from the stack, laying them on top. "Alright, this is what you want. I have some general maps I've already drawn up, they give a basic layout of the entire medical facility" she'd say while placing her paperwork on the nearest table, pulling it up to the right of Kensie. "Uhm, alright. So, hospital south wing" she said while taking off her patrol cap, tucking it into the strap of her chest rig before bending over to sort the array of papers; all together, they'd form a general map. Spinelli would pluck a pen from the binder, bracing herself against the table with her left hand as she hovered the pen over the maps. She stalled for a few moments, silently looking over the maps. They were hard to make out in this light, and she was having a difficult time figuring out where to start, considering she didn't know an awful lot about the south wing. "Uh, I don't know if this is a good place to do this" she said nervously with a slight quiver in her hand as the maps started to collect the droplets that fell from her hair.
"Hey, you're not gonna clean off that wound with those dirty old rags, are ya?" Kurt said, nodding his head towards the mess of things that had been dumped from Spinelli's bag. "Medical supplies, everything you need. She's even got some Everclear, it'll clean that right up. Let's make a trade, all of that for one of those cigarettes" he said in a serious tone of voice. "How about it? Deal? Now, how about this deal. What if I told you we could get your friend back? Tonight. Granted he isn't dead" he said. "She, Vex is a she. And she's not dead" Peircen quietly grumbled in the background. "They're probably throwing her a welcome back party" she continued to mumble, religiously watching through the front of the café with a mild scowl on her face.
Topic: Surviving the Apocalypse! (Closed) (Read 15081 times)