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Moon Rise - Ch 5b/8
Date: 2013-02-09 04:00 am (UTC)Rather than reply verbally, he elbowed his only potential ally in the face, causing him to tumbled back onto the dirty floor. "Get the fuck off me!" he bellowed.
"Son of a bitch!" came the pained mutter of the wounded man.
James watched as the man faced him, feeling his own blood rise at the senseless disregard the Mercenary had for those that might help him. Still, there was no point in making the same mistake, so he held his ground as the man continued to make a production of his anger rather than acting on it. After all, his time in the Vault may have made him a little rusty when it came to brawling over something as simple as a disagreement.
"Let me show you how this is done," the fighter insisted. "Put your fucking hands up!"
A sigh escaped the doctor before he started to rise, feigning reluctance, before suddenly kicking dust and metal shrapnel from the decaying columns into the other man's face. Recalling the way he had scrapped with a few NCR men as a youth, he tackled him, pulling the knife from semi-pliant hands as the man tried to shield his eyes. The old tricks were the best as they struggled apart, one holding the knife while the other wiped at his face.
"You motherfucker!" Diaz yelped.
"Cut this out!" he insisted, trying to emphasize the need for order and structure in their actions. "Do you hear me?"
Before the man could reply, a lone growl greeted them as the trio suddenly found themselves looking at the big, black dog. It stood there, no more than five feet from their little camp, its backup nowhere in sight, but the point was moot. None of them had their weapons on hand and before any individual could get their hands on one, the beast would end their life. It had already proven it carried at least rudimentary intelligence, so instead they held their ground.
The animal paced forward, looking at the three of them with those eyes... savage, but brilliant, a killer without the fear or lack of memory that kept most dogs subservient. The feral beast paused and simply backed away, moving into the shadows of the building like a ghost. They held their breath until they heard it climb over the footlocker and out the door, into the night and open air. They had survived, but so had the enemy...
"What the fuck?" Diaz gasped, trying to get his head on straight. "What did it want?"
"You," he lied, needing to believe for just a second that the animal's game was not about him.
"Diaz, please don't do that shit to me again," Talget muttered, rubbing his aching nose.
The man said nothing in response, simply returning to his position around the hot plate, his expression clouded by some new emotion. For just a second James dared to hope the man might be the one to help him get Project Purity back on its feet. He was strong and able to learn, a potential ally against the dangers of the Wasteland, especially if he had Talget there to support him. The doctor looked down at the knife and prepared to return it to its rightful owner...