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Dark*Matter: Gators Under Gary (Was Exit 23)
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<blockquote data-quote="arwink" data-source="post: 1812704" data-attributes="member: 2292"><p>Exit 23, Part Eight</p><p></p><p>Nick ran into the convenience store, letting instinct and logic guide him to the fire extinguisher behind the counter. HE ignored the in case of emergency sign and smashed the glass with the butt of his pistol, hauling the red cylinder out and spraying down the fire with foam. Heat was starting to bead on his forehead when Ammie and Zack came in through the front doors, both of them armed with mini-extinguishers from their rentals.</p><p></p><p>“What in hell is going on?” Ammie demanded. </p><p>“Less talk, more extinguishing.”</p><p></p><p>All in all, the fire didn’t last long. Between the three extinguishers they quickly cut off the spread of the flames, localizing the damage to a short pair of shelves filled with trashy magazines and national enquirers.</p><p></p><p>“I smell gas,” Zack said, tossing the empty extinguisher over his shoulder.</p><p>“Deliberately lit,” Nick said. He was leaning against the counter to the shop, checking the ammunition in his pistol. “Someone in here isn’t playing nice.”</p><p>“Yeah, like the lurking psycho in a fur coat didn’t give that away,” Ammie muttered.</p><p>“It’s not a fur coat, you know,” Zack said. “I’ve read about those things – they’re called Hariken. It's a demon.”</p><p>"Demon," Ammie said. "As in, pointy horns and root of all evil kind of thing."</p><p>"It's note quite that simple, but you've grasped the basic concept, yes."</p><p>“Riiiiiight.”</p><p>“I’m serious. They steal the heads of their victims and use them to transform into that person. A perfect disguise.”</p><p>“So one of them chose to look like a wolf?”</p><p>Zack thought about that. Shrugged.</p><p>“It could have been desperate. What I don’t get is why it’s here. Rumor has it that these things build cults around themselves, they like to be worshipped. Attacking lone truck stops isn’t really their style.”</p><p></p><p>He paused as Nick clicked the safety on his pistol</p><p></p><p>“It doesn’t really matter,” Nick said. “If…note I said if…you’re right, then we’ve got bigger problems to deal with. If you are actually a crazy crackpot, the same applies. At this point, the best thing we can do is get one of those cars started and get the wounded to safety. Everyone, if we can get a large enough truck going. I’m going to go calm people down, the two of you get back to starting a car. Working out what’s happening is something we can do when we’re somewhere safe and warm.”</p><p></p><p>Ammie and Zack nodded wearily, started preparing themselves to head back into the storm. Nick watched them go, holstered the pistol and headed back towards the donut shop. It was quiet. Probably to quite, considering the smell of gasoline and fire that still lingered in the air. </p><p></p><p>The gun was back in his hand. Nick leaned and glanced through the doorway.</p><p></p><p>Just in time to see a giant trucker pulling the trigger of a .44 magnum, spitting lead in Nick’s general direction.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="arwink, post: 1812704, member: 2292"] Exit 23, Part Eight Nick ran into the convenience store, letting instinct and logic guide him to the fire extinguisher behind the counter. HE ignored the in case of emergency sign and smashed the glass with the butt of his pistol, hauling the red cylinder out and spraying down the fire with foam. Heat was starting to bead on his forehead when Ammie and Zack came in through the front doors, both of them armed with mini-extinguishers from their rentals. “What in hell is going on?” Ammie demanded. “Less talk, more extinguishing.” All in all, the fire didn’t last long. Between the three extinguishers they quickly cut off the spread of the flames, localizing the damage to a short pair of shelves filled with trashy magazines and national enquirers. “I smell gas,” Zack said, tossing the empty extinguisher over his shoulder. “Deliberately lit,” Nick said. He was leaning against the counter to the shop, checking the ammunition in his pistol. “Someone in here isn’t playing nice.” “Yeah, like the lurking psycho in a fur coat didn’t give that away,” Ammie muttered. “It’s not a fur coat, you know,” Zack said. “I’ve read about those things – they’re called Hariken. It's a demon.” "Demon," Ammie said. "As in, pointy horns and root of all evil kind of thing." "It's note quite that simple, but you've grasped the basic concept, yes." “Riiiiiight.” “I’m serious. They steal the heads of their victims and use them to transform into that person. A perfect disguise.” “So one of them chose to look like a wolf?” Zack thought about that. Shrugged. “It could have been desperate. What I don’t get is why it’s here. Rumor has it that these things build cults around themselves, they like to be worshipped. Attacking lone truck stops isn’t really their style.” He paused as Nick clicked the safety on his pistol “It doesn’t really matter,” Nick said. “If…note I said if…you’re right, then we’ve got bigger problems to deal with. If you are actually a crazy crackpot, the same applies. At this point, the best thing we can do is get one of those cars started and get the wounded to safety. Everyone, if we can get a large enough truck going. I’m going to go calm people down, the two of you get back to starting a car. Working out what’s happening is something we can do when we’re somewhere safe and warm.” Ammie and Zack nodded wearily, started preparing themselves to head back into the storm. Nick watched them go, holstered the pistol and headed back towards the donut shop. It was quiet. Probably to quite, considering the smell of gasoline and fire that still lingered in the air. The gun was back in his hand. Nick leaned and glanced through the doorway. Just in time to see a giant trucker pulling the trigger of a .44 magnum, spitting lead in Nick’s general direction. [/QUOTE]
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