Snippet #2520504

Sarah peeked through the crack between the bookcase and broken window out at the brick pavilion outside. Several walkers traipsed along, probably pursuing all the noise she had made earlier. There were no lights inside the bookstore, and the few beams that got through cast a shadowy pall across the desolate insides of the store. Though it turned out the store wasn't quite as empty as Sarah had thought.

Charlie's furry frame lowered to the ground as a low growl amped up in his throat. Sarah turned from the storefront, reaching for her pistol -- which lay on top of her bag. The dog crept forward, peering down the aisle deeper into the store.

"I know you're over there," Sarah said, forcefully. She slowly raised her pistol up in front of her, aiming towards Charlie's point of focus. But just silence. "Just come out, dipshit."

Very slowly, two hands appeared from the far end of the second bookcase down the aisle. Two arms, a head, a body and legs unveiled themselves right afterwards. A man who looked like he had seen better days, limped into plain sight -- blood caked against his sweaty, stubbled face. A crowbar hung loosely in his right hand as he held his other out towards Sarah.

"Put down the gun babe, I'm not gonna bite you," he said, tiredly.

Sarah examined the man. He clearly wasn't there to put up a fight -- unless it was just some kind of ruse to make her drop her guard. Either way, she thought it best to keep her distance. He was the first person she'd encountered outside of Oliver or her old group. Her experiences with strangers in the past had been mixed -- the worst of them being the man who killed Molly's brother to steal their car. It was a blunt reminder of the things people were capable of in desperate times.

"Drop your weapon," she ordered, leveling her own at him. She was not about to take any more chances.

Donague scowled. "You first, kid. This bar here is the only thing keeping me alive," he claimed, gently waving the crowbar between loose fingers. He neglected to mention the small Glock hidden in his pocket, though he wasn't exactly lying. The gun had been empty for two days. "And is pretty much the only thing of value I have.". That much at least was almost true.

"I don't want anything you have," she replied, coldly. "What are you doing in here?"

"Oh, just browsing," Donague replied without humour. "I'm resting, and I'm not pointing a gun at someone while I'm doing it," he added, raising his voice slightly.

She eyed him carefully, not sure what to do with him. She couldn't feel safe with her back turned to someone she didn't know. People were unpredictable. Enough to do some truly horrible things to get what they want. Donague reluctantly dropped his crowbar to the ground with a loud clang and raised his hands into the air. The two eyed each other, waiting for the next move. Sarah lowered her weapon slightly. "Now, go over--"

#%! CRASH !%#

Something loud sounded out from upstairs on the landing above them. Sarah jerked her gun upwards towards the banister up above -- and when she looked back down, Donague was gone.

Shit... Sarah silently cursed to herself as she backed around the bookcase out-of-sight. She turned to move further back and found herself facing a man with a bandana wrapped around his nose and mouth. He lunged at Sarah, getting his arm around her neck and knocking her pistol to the floor. Charlie began barking at the intruder, taking a mouthful of the man's leg as he tried to pull him off of her. The man kicked blindly at the dog, trying to shake it off of him -- eventually delivering a swift kick to Charlie's side and sending the dog tumbling back. Sarah threw her full weight against the bookcase beside them, slamming the assailant against it as books clattered to the floor. She had felt some give on the first push and launched herself backwards a second time, sending her, the man, and the bookcase toppling over. The man lost his grip on her neck enough for her to pull herself free, and she scampered across the scattered books on the ground towards her weapon.

As she crawled nearer, another loud noise filled the air.

#!% BANG #%!

The gunshot rang out loud and clear, echoing throughout the room. Sarah covered her ears and looked towards the stairs where the shot had come from -- there stood a man in a duster with his gun aimed towards the ceiling. A wisp of smoke trailed out from its tip as he trotted down the rest of the steps to the main floor. Sarah continued for her gun, but the bandana man kicked it away. It slid down the aisle towards where she had spotted the first man... wherever he had gone. Two other men from their crew of looters came running down the stairs, having heard the commotion from elsewhere in the bookstore.

"Holy hell," one of the taller men said with a whistle, noticing Sarah on the ground on her hands and knees. "Jackpot."

The man in the duster held up his hand. "Easy, Jeremy. Don't be an asshole in front of the lady," he urged, crossing over to her and offering his hand. She ignored it and rose to her feet -- launching a wad of spit straight into his face as the man jerked his head away. He wiped it clean with the collar of his shirt and wound his arm back, smacking Sarah across the face and sending her back to the floor. "Spoke to soon," he said, driving his foot into her ribs. "This bitch has no manners." Sarah rolled over, clutching her stomach. Charlie launched into a fury of barks, hopping around on all fours. "Somebody shut that dog up, before I tear it's fucking head off..." he ordered, calmly. Jeremy crossed over to it and kicked at it, sending it fleeing back into the aisles with a snarl. He stayed standing there to make sure it didn't come back to bother them.




Meanwhile, Donague had taken off around a corner. The girl hadn't seemed insane or unreasonable but she had a gun. There was always the chance it wasn't loaded, like his, but he wasn't in the habit of taking stupid risks. Risks, yes. Smart, calculated risks. And there was always the risk of taking a bullet if he went back for the crowbar straight away but he wasn't leaving without it; he'd be defenceless. Even a hardback copy of War and Peace was no match for a tapered rod of cast iron. So he'd give her the runaround, or hope she left soon, and then slip out and grab it. Maybe he could even get the jump on her? There had to be something good in those bags she had. No one carried around that kind of bulk without having something worthwhile. It was during these thoughts that the commotion began.

Donague heard the clatter of a fallen gun, very shortly followed by the barking and snarling of a dog. He crept forward and ducked down, trying to get a view on the situation while keeping out of sight. It was no good being hidden if he didn't know what he was hiding from. He silently cursed the day. It hadn't been a good one. And it was about to take another turn as the bookcase beside him shuddered and swayed, scattering books down on to him. "Son of a-" he started quietly as several volumes tumbled down and bounced off his head and back. Turning his gaze towards the ground to protect his face yielded perhaps the first positive moment of the day. There, just beyond the fallen books, lay the handgun that had been aimed at him not moments ago.

Before he had enough time to form a plan there was another crash and something started to give way. The bookcase came hurtling down towards him, leaving Donague with no choice but to dive back the way he had come and take cover in an alcove. Maybe he could just make a run for it he thought. Then he heard the gunshot.

The man with the duster was not in Donague's line of sight but peering just around the corner of his hiding place he could make out the girl who had jumped him scrambling along on all fours and another man with a bandana standing over her. He saw neither of them holding a gun so knew that this particular bookstore was quite busy today. And apparently filled with guns he realized, as a clattering slide heralded the movement of Sarah's handgun to just a few feet away from him. It was too far to reach out and he couldn't risk being seen so he stayed where he was, shifting from a crouch to sitting on the backs of his heels. He had been sitting for barely five minutes before the girl with the gun had arrived and his legs were filled with a deep, pulsing ache from the hours of running earlier in the day. And from the day before. And the day before that. All he had come in here for was rest. A little respite from the hellish marathon. A bookstore, of all places, should not be the centre of a confrontation. And nobody should be firing a gun and hanging around. His plan had been to just rest a while and move on without incident. But these days nothing went according to plan. He hated that.




"Now, let's see what we have here," said the man in the duster, attention and gun both focused more on Sarah herself than on her luggage. He looked her over, very unflatteringly, as the other looters watched and jeered. "Jeremy, check her bags" he ordered, not taking his eyes off Sarah even as he tilted his head to the side and bit his bottom lip. "Shouldn't have spat at me," he almost whispered; a crooked, snarling smile appearing on his face. He looked like he had seen something he simultaneously liked and was disgusted by and he took half a step forward, opening his mouth to say something else but being cut off before he had a chance.

"Hey boss, we got another one!"

Duster spun around and saw Donague frozen in a crouch, gun in hand. "Am I interrupting?" he asked casually, straightening up. "I'll just be going then," he added quickly.

"The hell you will," replied Duster calmly. "You with her?" he asked, indicating Sarah on the ground to his side. The tall man, Jeremy, had stopped rooting through the bags and was now standing guard over her.

"No." There was a few moments of silence as though he was expected to say more.

"Why is it that I don't believe you?"

"Because we're in the same place at the same time and it's highly unlikely that she was in fact holding me up when you arrived. That's why. So if that isn't the case then why aren't I trying to stop you mugging her?" High pressure, high stakes negotiation. Donague was in his element. And Duster didn't seem to have an answer for him.

"I just want my crowbar," Donague finished. Duster thought for a moment then nodded. He kept the gun aimed at Donague but turned to talk to Sarah.

"Lose the pants."

Donague's gun was up in an instant. He had been trained to prey on the vulnerable and to exploit weakness but this was something else entirely and it was not something he was comfortable with. Besides, he had a feeling that Duster here wasn't going to let him walk out without a few holes in him no matter how he reacted.

"Go fuck yourself." Sarah had no weapon and was in a compromising position but she was still ready to fight her corner. Donague could relate, but she wasn't the one with a gun pointed at her at that exact moment and she was the reason he was in this position in the first place. He shot her a cold look.

"Everybody just calm down a little," he said, trying to gain some control of the situation. "It doesn't have to go down like this. We could all walk out of here alive and go our seperate ways." He spoke easily and professionally, as though he were back in the boardroom. "I don't want to get shot and I'm sure none of you do either. So let's talk options." He didn't lower his weapon and had no intention of walking away from this without somebody getting hurt, that was inevitable now. But with the current odds it was likely going to be him on the losing side of the equation. Fortunately, as ever, he had a plan. These looters clearly hadn't anticipated the arrival of walkers. Probably hadn't had guns for very long, didn't know the routine. Donague had seen a few times now that firing a gun doubtlessly led to a swarm of them. If he needed a distraction all he had to do was buy some time. That was the plan. But these days nothing went according to plan. He hated that.

Sarah looked up at the guardian angel who had only moments ago been a stranger in her sights. She didn't know what drove him to intervene when he could have just as easily stayed hidden or slipped out unnoticed. Either the man had a death wish or he wanted to keep her alive so they could finish their conversation -- or he could just be plain crazy. None of the immediate possibilities for his behavior rubbed her the right way, but she was thankful nonetheless. The taller thug, Jeremy, leered over her like a lion guarding its wounded prey. Her bag lay just out of reach behind him, still unzipped. She could see some of the other weapons lingering about inside... if only she could reach them.

Duster licked his lips, grinning a toothy grin at Donague. "I thought you didn't want to get involved, Cowboy?" he teased. Bandana had begun circling around to Donague's side. He had unleashed a length of chain from around his waist and twirled it around slowly, anticipating the inevitable showdown. Duster turned towards Sarah again. "Did I stutter? Pants. Off. Or does Jeremy need to assist you?" he threatened.

Sarah glared at the both of them. "I respectfully decline," she replied.

"Is that so? And what makes you think we'd allow you to do that?"

"Because you assholes already fucked up... moreso than coming to loot a bookstore in the first place. Like you all actually know how to read... c'mon. You're too damn stupid." She wiped some of the blood from her lip with her hand as she sat on the dirty floor surrounded by books.

Jeremy looked up at Duster, speechlessly. Neither had expected the girl to have such gall considering her unfortunate position.

"Girl's got a point," Donague replied. "You don't seem like the smartest guy I've ever met but you're not stupid." He was trying to buy some time now, however he could. "So you can do the maths here. I have a gun pointed at you, so if this all goes South I can guarantee a bullethole in that fine coat of yours. But if we take a look through that bag together then maybe we can come to some kind of mutual gain." He'd already caught a glimpse of the contents of the bag and his plan was re-formulating. One way or another he was getting out of here with something to show for it, although he had no way of knowing what else it might hold. He couldn't carry both, not at the pace needed to outrun the walkers, which left him with two options. Either he negotiated with a bunch of sleazy, impulsive, opportunistic sadists, or he helped this girl get out alive and hope she didn't just turn around and shoot him. Gratitude wasn't something he expected to be found in abundance in this new nightmare that was once his home but this bordered on a clever gamble.

Duster chuckled softly, hanging his head. "Who do you two think you are? My therapists? You so much as speak again and my friend over here will smash your princess' teeth into the back of your head." Jeremy smiled at the thought, giving Sarah a foul wink from above. Donague followed the Bandana man as he slowly crossed around to go behind the bookshelf to his right, and he side-stepped to counter and keep his back so he could still see all three men. What he didn't realize was that they were circling him so that his back was to the staircase -- where their fourth man laid waiting.

This took Donague by surprise. He had read the man wrong and his plan was falling apart. So he had no choice but to keep his mouth shut and try to keep everybody in his line of sight while he figured out another way of buying time. There was only one thing he could think of as he slowly stepped to the side. Keeping his gun aimed at Duster and his eyes flickering between the looters who were gradually backing him up Donague did the only thing he had left. He slowly slid one arm of his backpack off and dropped the kit to the floor. Fixing Duster with a stare he pushed the bag with his foot towards the man, far enough to be out of reach. Aside from some tinned food and a collection of gear he had found to be useful there was nothing of particular value inside. But at the moment only he knew that and there couldn't be much time left to kill.

Duster appeared intrigued by the offering but his gun remained aimed squarely at Sarah's head. His gaze was diverted though, and Donague hoped that might be enough when the time came. Since the outbreak he had not once hoped for the arrival of a horde of those sickening, shambling corpses but now he was on the verge of prayer. He just hoped that the girl would be ready too...