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Dark*Matter: Gators Under Gary (Was Exit 23)
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<blockquote data-quote="arwink" data-source="post: 1814532" data-attributes="member: 2292"><p>Exit 23, Part Ten</p><p></p><p>First aid wasn’t really a big part of Zac’s life. He’d attended a course, way back in ’98 when he first started work for the local paper, and he figured he’d stretched the limits of what he’d learned in those four days further than human memory was meant to be stretched. Half-forgotten techniques of wrapping wounds were coming back to him, and he managed to muddle through extracting the slug from Nick’s shoulder without causing to much pain. It wasn’t a professional job by any means, but it was good enough to get the ATF officer back on his feet and ordering folks about, so it had to do.</p><p></p><p>“Welcome back,” Zac said cheerfully. He loomed over Nick, grinning as the smaller man regained consciousness. </p><p>“I get him?”</p><p>“Yep. Not much to question though.”</p><p></p><p>Nick nodded wearily, then pulled himself upright.</p><p></p><p>“You got his gun?”</p><p>Zac nodded.</p><p>“Hand it over. Unless you’ve got some kind of training, you’re more dangerous to us than anything you’re shooting at.”</p><p>Zac nodded again and handed the gun over. Nick tucked it into his waistband, next to the SiG, and scanned the room.</p><p></p><p>“Zac.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Why does Ammie have a sword?”</p><p></p><p>Ammie stalked over, sword still held at the ready.</p><p></p><p>“It’s mine,” she said. “This is what I do, okay?”</p><p>“You own swords?”</p><p>“I teach martial arts.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Nick paused for a moment. Everything was still quiet.</p><p>“As long as you’ve got a permit.”</p><p></p><p>Ammie looked at Zac, her expression inscrutable.</p><p>“You sure he’s okay?”</p><p>“Fine. Minor painkillers, nothing major. Lot of pain and bloodloss though.”</p><p>“You sure he’s okay with the guns?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Nick assured her. “Not great, but I’ll live.”</p><p>He dropped off the table, wobbling unsteadily on his feet.</p><p>“How’d you go with the cars?”</p><p></p><p>Zac and Ammie shared a glance. </p><p></p><p>“Most of them are totaled,” Ammie explained. “The rest have dead batteries. Torches are gone too, except for mine.”</p><p>“Demon may feed on electricity,” Zac added. “Rubber on Ammie’s camp torch probably protected it, but the Nemo’s were toast the moment it showed up. We got some more maglights out of the troopers car, which should last us a while longer.”</p><p>“Right,” Nick said. He rubbed his face blearily. “Have you tried replacing the batteries in one of the cars?”</p><p></p><p>“Sure,” Ammie said. “Of course we did. We’re in the middle of no-where, so naturally we dropped down to the local auto-store and picked up a spare battery.”</p><p>“That could have been an option,” Nick said. He seemed to be immune to sarcasm.</p><p>“Riiiiight.”</p><p>“Although you could have just nabbed one from the general store,” Nick said.</p><p>Ammie blinked.</p><p>“…or we could have just nabbed one from the general store ,” Ammie said. </p><p></p><p>She looked at Zac. “Why don’t we try that then?”</p><p></p><p>Nick watched the two of them go, Ammie silently berating herself for not thinking of it in the first place. Once they were gone, he did a quick check of the other refugees from the storm and double-checked the bindings on the wounded businessman. Somehow he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the cause of all this, but Nick couldn’t figure out why. Sharply dressed, dignified, every inch the power executive. The only thing this guy was missing were some necessary parts of the chest cavity and a briefcase.</p><p></p><p>Nick paused. A briefcase. He was sure the exec was carrying one when he first entered the donut shop. It wasn’t here now.</p><p></p><p>Slowly, quietly, without causing any alarm, Nick left the donut store and returned to the rest-rooms.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="arwink, post: 1814532, member: 2292"] Exit 23, Part Ten First aid wasn’t really a big part of Zac’s life. He’d attended a course, way back in ’98 when he first started work for the local paper, and he figured he’d stretched the limits of what he’d learned in those four days further than human memory was meant to be stretched. Half-forgotten techniques of wrapping wounds were coming back to him, and he managed to muddle through extracting the slug from Nick’s shoulder without causing to much pain. It wasn’t a professional job by any means, but it was good enough to get the ATF officer back on his feet and ordering folks about, so it had to do. “Welcome back,” Zac said cheerfully. He loomed over Nick, grinning as the smaller man regained consciousness. “I get him?” “Yep. Not much to question though.” Nick nodded wearily, then pulled himself upright. “You got his gun?” Zac nodded. “Hand it over. Unless you’ve got some kind of training, you’re more dangerous to us than anything you’re shooting at.” Zac nodded again and handed the gun over. Nick tucked it into his waistband, next to the SiG, and scanned the room. “Zac.” “Yeah?” “Why does Ammie have a sword?” Ammie stalked over, sword still held at the ready. “It’s mine,” she said. “This is what I do, okay?” “You own swords?” “I teach martial arts.” “Oh.” Nick paused for a moment. Everything was still quiet. “As long as you’ve got a permit.” Ammie looked at Zac, her expression inscrutable. “You sure he’s okay?” “Fine. Minor painkillers, nothing major. Lot of pain and bloodloss though.” “You sure he’s okay with the guns?” “I’m fine,” Nick assured her. “Not great, but I’ll live.” He dropped off the table, wobbling unsteadily on his feet. “How’d you go with the cars?” Zac and Ammie shared a glance. “Most of them are totaled,” Ammie explained. “The rest have dead batteries. Torches are gone too, except for mine.” “Demon may feed on electricity,” Zac added. “Rubber on Ammie’s camp torch probably protected it, but the Nemo’s were toast the moment it showed up. We got some more maglights out of the troopers car, which should last us a while longer.” “Right,” Nick said. He rubbed his face blearily. “Have you tried replacing the batteries in one of the cars?” “Sure,” Ammie said. “Of course we did. We’re in the middle of no-where, so naturally we dropped down to the local auto-store and picked up a spare battery.” “That could have been an option,” Nick said. He seemed to be immune to sarcasm. “Riiiiight.” “Although you could have just nabbed one from the general store,” Nick said. Ammie blinked. “…or we could have just nabbed one from the general store ,” Ammie said. She looked at Zac. “Why don’t we try that then?” Nick watched the two of them go, Ammie silently berating herself for not thinking of it in the first place. Once they were gone, he did a quick check of the other refugees from the storm and double-checked the bindings on the wounded businessman. Somehow he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the cause of all this, but Nick couldn’t figure out why. Sharply dressed, dignified, every inch the power executive. The only thing this guy was missing were some necessary parts of the chest cavity and a briefcase. Nick paused. A briefcase. He was sure the exec was carrying one when he first entered the donut shop. It wasn’t here now. Slowly, quietly, without causing any alarm, Nick left the donut store and returned to the rest-rooms. [/QUOTE]
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