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DarkMatter D20: Drunk Southern Girls with Guns ... UPDATED - 8/18/05!
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<blockquote data-quote="jonrog1" data-source="post: 72537" data-attributes="member: 189"><p>EXIT 23 -- Pt. 2 </p><p></p><p>Vertigo, their heads spinning like a night on Jagermeister, the people in the coffee shop tumbled from their chairs and stools. Andy found himself on his knees, gripping his head. Lingering foul whispers faded, just on the edge of comprehension. Someone in the darkness puked. This was no blackout -- </p><p></p><p>"What the hell was that!" Andy yelled, spitting out bile. </p><p>Ross pulled it together first, flipping over his table for cover. "Gunshots. Three of them!" He pulled a still stunned Johanna down beside him. </p><p></p><p>"No, the other thing ..." Andrew and Stephen stayed crouched. Animal insincts had kicked in. They couldnt see anything, couldn't hear anything ... their primal brains froze them in place, waiting. </p><p>Long seconds passed. The teenage girl was weeping quietly, being comforted by the gas station attendant. Stephen heard the names "Ahmend" and "Annie" pass between them. No sound or movement came from where the truck drivers had been. </p><p></p><p>Stephen rose cautiously. "We should check it out." </p><p></p><p>"Have fun," whispered Andy. </p><p></p><p>"Mabel, do you have a flashlight?" Stephen didn't wait for the answer, he reached over, rummaged around among the clutter. "Somebody could be hurt." </p><p></p><p>"And somebody could be waiting out there to shoot whoever steps through the door," Ross answered. But he, too, stood, straining to see what lay outside the glass door. Everyone spoke in hushed voices, trying not to draw the attention of whoever ... whatever waited outside. </p><p></p><p>Johanna cunningly judged the stopping power of her thin diner table. In a blink she'd scooched around behind the diner counter. Mabel looked up -- the old waitress was huddled behind her counter, and had popped open a bottle of Vodka from under the counter. "Sorry," she mumbled. </p><p></p><p>"Sorry hell, pass it over," Johanna whispered back. Joahnna took a long swig -- and neglected to return the bottle. </p><p></p><p>Ross gestured to the other men. "Let's get some weapons,check it out." </p><p></p><p>"What have you got back there, Mabel?" Andy asked. </p><p></p><p>"A ... a spatula." </p><p></p><p>"Greeaaaat." </p><p></p><p>Stephen produced a relatively sharp bread knife and a flashlight. "Here we go." </p><p></p><p>"Oh yeah," Andy whispered. "We're ready to storm Normandy."</p><p> </p><p>Ross crept forward to the door. "Mabel, the other doors in the rest stop, the gas station, the McDonald's, who's got the keys." </p><p></p><p>"Here!" Ahmed piped up. A soft JANGLE as the gas station keys slid across the floor. </p><p></p><p>"Danny Wood, that boy's got the McDonald's keys," hissed Mabel. "But he ain't in here. He's ... out there." Mabel reached for the vodka. Johanna was busy working on it, so she relented. </p><p></p><p>Ross stayed close to the wall, cracked the door open. No gunshots. He turned to find Stephen next to him. "Let's sneak out there without the light first." </p><p></p><p>"Right." Stepehn and Ross, moving in a crouch, stepped out into the foyer. </p><p></p><p>Andy rolled his eyes. "Aw hell." A second later he stepped out the door -- </p><p></p><p>-- and almost slammed into the two other men. They all froze, staring at the front doors of the rest stop. </p><p></p><p>The big steel and glass doors were shattered, twisted like pipe cleaners. One hung from a single hinge, the other lay splayed across the floor, crumpled. The storm still howled, blowing snow in from the dark sky outside. </p><p></p><p>"A bomb?" guessed Ross. </p><p></p><p>"We would have heard that," answered Stephen. "Those things were TORN apart by something. RIPPED DOWN." </p><p></p><p>They considered this a moment. "Oh good," whispered Andy. "At least that probably means nobody's waiting to shoot us." </p><p></p><p>The three men edged forward into the darkness. Ross slid the key into the Gas Station door. It was indeed still locked. He opened the door. Stephen, over his shoulder, played the flashlight beam around. Nothing but racks of junk food, magazines and road supplies. He clicked the light off, Ross relocked the door. </p><p></p><p>They jerked as Johanna joined them. In her left hand she held a broom. In the other she clutched the vodka bottle. "Couldn't stand the wait." </p><p></p><p>Andy had an idea. He took a roll of duct tape from the tourist info counter in the foyer, duct-taped the knife to the broom, making a spear. Satisfied, the four agreed on a plan. Test the McDonald's doors, make sure no one was going to surprise them from that angle. Then head down the narrow corridor to the restrooms and whatever lay beyond. Ross and Andy would be in the lead, Ross with the spear. Stephen would use the flashlight from over their shoulder when necessary, confusing any assailants as to where exactly to shoot if he were going for light sources. Johanna would watch the rear and drink. </p><p></p><p>They hooked fingers in each others belt loops so they could operate in the dark. The McDonalds proved secure. They started silently down the corridor to the restrooms. Quietly, no lights, feeling their way, lest they betray themselves to whatever lurked -- </p><p></p><p>"HEY! THERE'S ANOTHER FLASHLIGHT BY THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER OUT THERE! IF YOU'RE OUT BY THE RESTROOMS, IT SHOULD BE ON YOUR LEFT!" Mabel bellowed. </p><p></p><p>A long pause. "Why, thanks Mabel," Andy hissed. Another moment of waiting, the only sound the air bubbles hitting the bottom of Johanna's vodka bottle as she took another hit. </p><p>Fearing an ambush, Stephen pointed the flashlight beam down the corridor. </p><p></p><p>That's when they saw the torso.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="jonrog1, post: 72537, member: 189"] EXIT 23 -- Pt. 2 Vertigo, their heads spinning like a night on Jagermeister, the people in the coffee shop tumbled from their chairs and stools. Andy found himself on his knees, gripping his head. Lingering foul whispers faded, just on the edge of comprehension. Someone in the darkness puked. This was no blackout -- "What the hell was that!" Andy yelled, spitting out bile. Ross pulled it together first, flipping over his table for cover. "Gunshots. Three of them!" He pulled a still stunned Johanna down beside him. "No, the other thing ..." Andrew and Stephen stayed crouched. Animal insincts had kicked in. They couldnt see anything, couldn't hear anything ... their primal brains froze them in place, waiting. Long seconds passed. The teenage girl was weeping quietly, being comforted by the gas station attendant. Stephen heard the names "Ahmend" and "Annie" pass between them. No sound or movement came from where the truck drivers had been. Stephen rose cautiously. "We should check it out." "Have fun," whispered Andy. "Mabel, do you have a flashlight?" Stephen didn't wait for the answer, he reached over, rummaged around among the clutter. "Somebody could be hurt." "And somebody could be waiting out there to shoot whoever steps through the door," Ross answered. But he, too, stood, straining to see what lay outside the glass door. Everyone spoke in hushed voices, trying not to draw the attention of whoever ... whatever waited outside. Johanna cunningly judged the stopping power of her thin diner table. In a blink she'd scooched around behind the diner counter. Mabel looked up -- the old waitress was huddled behind her counter, and had popped open a bottle of Vodka from under the counter. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Sorry hell, pass it over," Johanna whispered back. Joahnna took a long swig -- and neglected to return the bottle. Ross gestured to the other men. "Let's get some weapons,check it out." "What have you got back there, Mabel?" Andy asked. "A ... a spatula." "Greeaaaat." Stephen produced a relatively sharp bread knife and a flashlight. "Here we go." "Oh yeah," Andy whispered. "We're ready to storm Normandy." Ross crept forward to the door. "Mabel, the other doors in the rest stop, the gas station, the McDonald's, who's got the keys." "Here!" Ahmed piped up. A soft JANGLE as the gas station keys slid across the floor. "Danny Wood, that boy's got the McDonald's keys," hissed Mabel. "But he ain't in here. He's ... out there." Mabel reached for the vodka. Johanna was busy working on it, so she relented. Ross stayed close to the wall, cracked the door open. No gunshots. He turned to find Stephen next to him. "Let's sneak out there without the light first." "Right." Stepehn and Ross, moving in a crouch, stepped out into the foyer. Andy rolled his eyes. "Aw hell." A second later he stepped out the door -- -- and almost slammed into the two other men. They all froze, staring at the front doors of the rest stop. The big steel and glass doors were shattered, twisted like pipe cleaners. One hung from a single hinge, the other lay splayed across the floor, crumpled. The storm still howled, blowing snow in from the dark sky outside. "A bomb?" guessed Ross. "We would have heard that," answered Stephen. "Those things were TORN apart by something. RIPPED DOWN." They considered this a moment. "Oh good," whispered Andy. "At least that probably means nobody's waiting to shoot us." The three men edged forward into the darkness. Ross slid the key into the Gas Station door. It was indeed still locked. He opened the door. Stephen, over his shoulder, played the flashlight beam around. Nothing but racks of junk food, magazines and road supplies. He clicked the light off, Ross relocked the door. They jerked as Johanna joined them. In her left hand she held a broom. In the other she clutched the vodka bottle. "Couldn't stand the wait." Andy had an idea. He took a roll of duct tape from the tourist info counter in the foyer, duct-taped the knife to the broom, making a spear. Satisfied, the four agreed on a plan. Test the McDonald's doors, make sure no one was going to surprise them from that angle. Then head down the narrow corridor to the restrooms and whatever lay beyond. Ross and Andy would be in the lead, Ross with the spear. Stephen would use the flashlight from over their shoulder when necessary, confusing any assailants as to where exactly to shoot if he were going for light sources. Johanna would watch the rear and drink. They hooked fingers in each others belt loops so they could operate in the dark. The McDonalds proved secure. They started silently down the corridor to the restrooms. Quietly, no lights, feeling their way, lest they betray themselves to whatever lurked -- "HEY! THERE'S ANOTHER FLASHLIGHT BY THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER OUT THERE! IF YOU'RE OUT BY THE RESTROOMS, IT SHOULD BE ON YOUR LEFT!" Mabel bellowed. A long pause. "Why, thanks Mabel," Andy hissed. Another moment of waiting, the only sound the air bubbles hitting the bottom of Johanna's vodka bottle as she took another hit. Fearing an ambush, Stephen pointed the flashlight beam down the corridor. That's when they saw the torso. [/QUOTE]
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