Snippet #2703241

Not expecting to be followed so suddenly -and, let’s be honest, quite brazenly- by his better half, of all people, the mechanic already had the Luger leveled at the door the moment Ruby kicked it down. The pistol vanished from his left hand into the opposite holster in the next half moment, followed by a sheepish look almost as quickly. Maybe just smooth enough that she missed it amid her grand entrance…

The younger Falcon would have been irritated, even furious at Ruby for stubbornly following him into [possible] certain death. Now, not really all that much older (or wiser, heh), all he felt was honoured that such a transcendent woman would choose to perish beside him. There weren’t many others he’d face the Grim Reaper with, and most of them just so happened to be right here. In this partially burned, long empty theatre…

Despite being quite used to it by now, Kevyn still jumped somewhat from Ruby’s playful swat. For the most part, though, he took it rather stoically, given the serious conversation. Judging by what was said, and not said, it seemed like he was expected to take reign of the Gae Ceann. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been expecting it. Hadn’t been more or less groomed for it until the gang’s forced exodus. But he never expected the immortal Dullahan to vacate the title of Boss, ever, either.

“Pleasant seein’ yeh here, too, m’dear Gunny Mare,” Falcon said quietly as the gunsmith joined his side. Then, after Noel and Renny said their piece, he took a deep breath and began.

“I’m not gonna bullshit yeh, this isna gonna be easy. Us rebuildin’ Gae Ceann. But it is possible. We wi-”

The rest of his words were interrupted as a shot rang out from the entrance, body instinctively turning toward the sound. The bullet that might have hit him in the gut now left a bloody furrow along his right forearm. In the next instant, he shoved Ruby directly toward the others with the same arm as he got off a shot from the Luger with his left. The interloper dropped to his knees, a dark hole where one of his eyes used to be visible a few moments before the body decided it was dead and flopped facedown.

Several bullets were returned where he had been standing, but the mechanic had the presence of mind to keep moving after firing and was thus safely behind the seats.

“We’re claiming the bounty on all y’all!” A voice shouted from just outside the door, as the sounds of at least half a dozen assailants assembling there echoed into the theatre. “Pay’s the same live or dead, so we ain’t playin’ nice!”

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves an audience, friends. Shall we set the stage fer ‘em?” Falcon chuckled, then took on an imperative tone that brooked no argument: “I’ll keep ‘em from floodin’ the place whilst yeh three book fer the stage an’ beyond. I shall be right behind yeh, when the mo’ iss right… Now go!”

At that, he unloaded the entire clip at the entrance, following up with another barrage from a second Luger that appeared in his right hand -trusting that his order was being carried out behind him. Not really hitting anything in particular, the sixteen (or so) forty-five calibre hollow point rounds still proved more than enough to quell the imminent surge of attackers. A few lucky bullets caught an arm or a leg here or there of course, but Kevyn didn’t keep his head up long enough to watch.

Instead, dropping the mags to the floor, he was distracted from finishing the reload. Blood trickling slowly from his arm, it was eagerly swallowed up into the aged carpet. That fresh metallic tang in the air suddenly mixed with a scent of old blood and decay. It might have been tunnel-vision from the battle, but it seemed to Falcon that the Solstice drastically became darker. And a sense, a beckoning, toward center stage permeated all within...