The woid of the week is….
3: a narrow street; especially: a thoroughfare through the middle of a block giving access to the rear of lots or buildings
The storyline has recently followed Emma (and yes we will return to her soon), but were you wondering what happened to Allen?
Oh, ummm, ok. Well, here it is anyway! The equally sly and saavy sibling has his own schemes….
“I just want my truck and gear. Plus, ok, the thrill of the hunt; I’ve been offing Zombunnies for a couple of days now, and I have safari experience.” It was mostly true, and Allen knew Richard wanted him out of the way, but not dead. For now.
“Fine,” Connar agreed after considering the ridiculous comparison, “back to Delta you go. But, you’re wearing a shoulder camera; I want footage, and hell, maybe we can build a following, make you a hero after all.” He motioned to McMuscles, who stepped out and promptly returned with a rifle and pack. “Though your personal items are likely gone, it wouldn’t do to drop you off empty- handed, while you go scavenging, hunting, or whatever you have planned.” Quickly they fitted his gear, complete with GPS and the promised surveillance.
Allen wasn’t going to be the one breaking the mutual suspicion, so he let the mercenary lead the way up the stairs to the helipad. He needn’t have bothered, as McMuscles warned, “Watch that last step,” and gave a personal ‘hello’ from the now familiar black boot. As it hit Allen square in the chest, he considered, between bumps down the steps, it was better than a walnut stock to the skull.
* * *
Allen awakened on his back, not in Connar’s office, but in the middle of a street. His sudden consciousness made it seem like he was teleported, but the helicopter hovering overhead reminded him that he had slept through the trip. The rotors whumping as the craft drifted higher and away were not as agonizing to hear as a cracked cranium would have exacerbated.
He sat up, his chest sore, and feeling exposed to wandering bunny hordes, regrouped in an alley between abandoned storefronts. He considering using the GPS, but first things first, reached for the camera to rip it off. Screw him.
“Believe me, you don’t want to do that,” his earbud transmitter announced. “Keep us live; you’ll stay that way too. Maybe.”