yaint
stuck in a tree
"Dead!" Kermit almost tore holes in his pockets. "You're shittin' me, right? You've got to be kidding. If he's dead, then everything's been for squat, eveything we've been working on. I held on to that picture for fourteen odd years for nothing, it's not even useful as proof or... Great! Wait here, men, I need a fuckin' smoke-"
Roxanne interrupted the man with an unnecessarily loud yawn, just to drown out his griping. Malcolm half-strangled him by yanking his hood back. There were some satisfying choking noises before Kermit could call out in shock, and by then a pudgy arm had already shepherded him back into place.
"No you don't," said Malcolm, lower lip curled outwards in a devilish smirk. "If you think really hard then you might even remember why else we're here."
"Wh-..."
"To be fair, he didn't exactly look alive so I dunno what we were expecting. These pictures'll probably give us a criminal record. But hey, did you forget who else's in here?" Roxanne sniggered as she watched Kermit wrestle against his accomplice's headlock. "I'll give ya three guesses."
Grunting and scrabbling with too-short fingernails, Kermit whined, "You assholes!"
"Incorrect," said Roxanne. "Hey ghouls, you seein' this? He acts like this all the time. It's a real shit-show."
"Let go, you dick!"
Although Gloria had already been spectating, the call for attention hooked her all over again. She gave the human girl a piercing gaze, to which the girl waved back and grinned. What the hell was wrong with these people..? Their calm demeanour should have relaxed them, but Daryl was right to show hostility. It was unsettling how little this triad appeared to care.
"Hey," Gloria began. That got their attention; Kermit finally ducked away from Malcolm, and the three humans filed together in a line to listen. "I've been told you followed us here from the beach. What exactly did you see?"
"Oh, you caught us? Well! I saw about a million zombie-looking folk waltzing down the street, carrying each other, all covered in blood. Got some photos, too. You guys really weren't careful about hiding yourselves, y'know... Freaked out a lot of passersby. Had some old man screech, 'ghouls!' and drop his groceries on the zebra crossing. Hah! I'll be damned if the CCG don't show their faces by evening."
"Roxanne!" Kermit hissed. "Shut up, if someone hears us then we're even more screwed. Let's just get the hell out of here... If Lambert's dead then we're just wasting our time."
"Incorrect again," the girl interrupted. "Oh dear, that's got to be three tries used up by now. Help a guy out, M?"
Malcolm barely lifted his feet. He just scraped his trainers along the ground, then stopped a few inches before Daryl. "'Sup," he said, not exactly smiling but not without warmth. "You look good, man. Don't sweat the dead guy. My friend was also planning on seeing someone else, see. Short guy, black hair? Little scrawny. We saw him come in, and I might be jumping the gun a little but he looked alive to me. Know where we can find 'em?"
*
Hurt or not, it didn't matter. Jackson could not lie; he was concerned. This guy was worryingly brittle. Another kick could turn him to dust. But he was also a stranger, and after everything that had happened, Jackson was willing to be cautious of everything. He kept hold of Adrian, gripping the boy's clothes especially tightly when he made contact with Zebedee again.
"Oh... I do?" Zebedee said as he shook Adrian's hand as vigorously as his trembling hand could manage. "Maybe that's because I'm from America! But it's been a while since I was actually there... Uhm, at the moment I'm on vacation with my friend and my little sister. We get to go all sorts of places. Actually, we just came to England three... No, four days ago. Do you all live here? It's really nice."
*
"W-wait, hold up. Don't actually-... Ugh, that fucking guy!"
Too late. Lorn was gone by the time she turned around, or she had run too far out of sight, and now the girl was as good as alone. Her outburst had spooked several pedestrians, and now even they were avoiding her. She thought she heard one of them mutter something rude as they passed. Something that sounded like 'crazy slut'. It seemed that Englishmen were not as polite as she had hoped when she got to this country.
Whatever... That kid was gone, but it wasn't like there was a shortage of scents to follow. That dog out-stank the rest of those weirdos, and Zebedee was in there somewhere. She just had to cling to that eye-watering tang of blood.
For many minutes the girl lingered in the streets. She meandered barefoot, through a sea of people and their crude chatter, through back alleys devoid of all life but damp mould, until her soles were raw and her hair damp with sweat. Only after she saw it did she stop.
A house... A tall, old-looking house with crumbling white paint and windows sealed by cobwebs. Lights were on in some of the lower floors. God, this place gave her the creeps... It was like a ghost house, and Zebedee's scent led straight inside.
Roxanne interrupted the man with an unnecessarily loud yawn, just to drown out his griping. Malcolm half-strangled him by yanking his hood back. There were some satisfying choking noises before Kermit could call out in shock, and by then a pudgy arm had already shepherded him back into place.
"No you don't," said Malcolm, lower lip curled outwards in a devilish smirk. "If you think really hard then you might even remember why else we're here."
"Wh-..."
"To be fair, he didn't exactly look alive so I dunno what we were expecting. These pictures'll probably give us a criminal record. But hey, did you forget who else's in here?" Roxanne sniggered as she watched Kermit wrestle against his accomplice's headlock. "I'll give ya three guesses."
Grunting and scrabbling with too-short fingernails, Kermit whined, "You assholes!"
"Incorrect," said Roxanne. "Hey ghouls, you seein' this? He acts like this all the time. It's a real shit-show."
"Let go, you dick!"
Although Gloria had already been spectating, the call for attention hooked her all over again. She gave the human girl a piercing gaze, to which the girl waved back and grinned. What the hell was wrong with these people..? Their calm demeanour should have relaxed them, but Daryl was right to show hostility. It was unsettling how little this triad appeared to care.
"Hey," Gloria began. That got their attention; Kermit finally ducked away from Malcolm, and the three humans filed together in a line to listen. "I've been told you followed us here from the beach. What exactly did you see?"
"Oh, you caught us? Well! I saw about a million zombie-looking folk waltzing down the street, carrying each other, all covered in blood. Got some photos, too. You guys really weren't careful about hiding yourselves, y'know... Freaked out a lot of passersby. Had some old man screech, 'ghouls!' and drop his groceries on the zebra crossing. Hah! I'll be damned if the CCG don't show their faces by evening."
"Roxanne!" Kermit hissed. "Shut up, if someone hears us then we're even more screwed. Let's just get the hell out of here... If Lambert's dead then we're just wasting our time."
"Incorrect again," the girl interrupted. "Oh dear, that's got to be three tries used up by now. Help a guy out, M?"
Malcolm barely lifted his feet. He just scraped his trainers along the ground, then stopped a few inches before Daryl. "'Sup," he said, not exactly smiling but not without warmth. "You look good, man. Don't sweat the dead guy. My friend was also planning on seeing someone else, see. Short guy, black hair? Little scrawny. We saw him come in, and I might be jumping the gun a little but he looked alive to me. Know where we can find 'em?"
*
Hurt or not, it didn't matter. Jackson could not lie; he was concerned. This guy was worryingly brittle. Another kick could turn him to dust. But he was also a stranger, and after everything that had happened, Jackson was willing to be cautious of everything. He kept hold of Adrian, gripping the boy's clothes especially tightly when he made contact with Zebedee again.
"Oh... I do?" Zebedee said as he shook Adrian's hand as vigorously as his trembling hand could manage. "Maybe that's because I'm from America! But it's been a while since I was actually there... Uhm, at the moment I'm on vacation with my friend and my little sister. We get to go all sorts of places. Actually, we just came to England three... No, four days ago. Do you all live here? It's really nice."
*
"W-wait, hold up. Don't actually-... Ugh, that fucking guy!"
Too late. Lorn was gone by the time she turned around, or she had run too far out of sight, and now the girl was as good as alone. Her outburst had spooked several pedestrians, and now even they were avoiding her. She thought she heard one of them mutter something rude as they passed. Something that sounded like 'crazy slut'. It seemed that Englishmen were not as polite as she had hoped when she got to this country.
Whatever... That kid was gone, but it wasn't like there was a shortage of scents to follow. That dog out-stank the rest of those weirdos, and Zebedee was in there somewhere. She just had to cling to that eye-watering tang of blood.
For many minutes the girl lingered in the streets. She meandered barefoot, through a sea of people and their crude chatter, through back alleys devoid of all life but damp mould, until her soles were raw and her hair damp with sweat. Only after she saw it did she stop.
A house... A tall, old-looking house with crumbling white paint and windows sealed by cobwebs. Lights were on in some of the lower floors. God, this place gave her the creeps... It was like a ghost house, and Zebedee's scent led straight inside.