On The Run - The Escape

[Tanasha Arati]

:~:It was impossible not to notice that Bianca was trailing them, but Tanasha was firmly of the belief that if she ignored her long enough, she’d go away. Realization dawned abruptly on her, however, as the woman inserted herself into their situation once more by commenting on the car. Clearly, she intended to tag along. In the interest of getting out of here un-captured and comforted by the fact that she could always throw open the door and shove her out at any time along the highway once they broke 70 mph, Ta left the issue alone until she could no longer avoid it. From the backseat and annoying as ever, Bianca shot down any attempt at avoidance instantly. Her silence and let-it-be attitude lasted but minutes before she was whirling to face their passenger from her shotgun position beside Atha…May. For whatever reason, the angel was poking around in the purse she’d lifted off the hooker. Could that possibly be any weirder?:~:

~For fucks sake ladies, if it’s such a dilemma, I’ll drive! Come on, I think our time here is nearly up.~

“I sure as hell don’t remember asking your opinion and it’ll be one fucking cold day in Hell before you drive me anywhere. Now, unless you want me to break your face and dump your pretty, little ass on the hood of that squad car for those assholes to scrape off and take back to the Park, I suggest you shut it! I haven’t even figured out why you’re here yet and already you’re running your mouth!”

:~:Exhaustion, pain and rage were a terrible mix in anyone with a condition like Ta’s and as she swung back around to collapse panting against her seat, she felt the indescribable heat burst into life inside her. Beneath the blanket she clutched protectively around her shoulders, ivory skin flushed suddenly as her powers thrashed within their human prison. Fear of what might happen to their vehicle were she to burst into flames just then had her battling back the rising sensation. The intense warmth had such a dizzying effect that she chose to face it in a less upright position than her current one. She slid weakly against the locked passenger door and closed her eyes, more gold than green now, tightly. Sacrificing modesty, the cover was thrown aside while her fingers clumsily fumbled with her window crank. Crash had mentioned dressing and buckling recently, but as it was clothes and her safety belt couldn’t be further from her mind. She was still clinging to her door when the car shot forward under the angel’s lead foot. Blessedly, their current dilemma hadn’t registered entirely for Tanasha to seethe about yet and she could be spared that aggravation. She left them to deal with it for now while her hand grasped the vents and pulled them towards her. A brief, though frustrating, exploration of the front console found her the fan and she turned the dial until cool air was blasting on her reddened skin.:~:

“Need air…”

:~:She muttered this vague explanation into the upholstery of her door without really caring who was cold. In any other setting Athalia’s use of the term ‘Old Lady’ for Bianca would have had Ta in stitches. This once it slipped by without comment. She was dimly aware of implications of this predicament and wondered if she mightn’t need the energy she was curbing to fend off their enemies. That in mind, Ta rest quietly where she was to wait for her cue to do otherwise. At the very least she knew something of that last inferno remained to aid her whether or not she wanted its help. It seemed getting it out was considerably harder than putting it back. The car rocked as it skidded to a halt and then lunged forward again, but Ta knew Crash too well not to be gripping her oh-shit bar in a death grip to keep from kissing the windshield. Whatever happened with Bianca, she trusted their driver with all of their lives.:~:

[Bianca Bartlett]

*Bianca shot the crazy Angel chick a look as she referred to her as the “two back there”, but chose to stay silent and impassive as Tanasha had her little dummy spit. Rolling her eyes, Bianca turned and peered back at the cop car.

~You can bitch and moan all you like.. but we gotta MOVE!.... NOW!!!! ~

Just as she finished her sentence, the crazy Angel chick, who Bianca suddenly remembered was in fact called Athalia, finally lurched into action and started the car. Bianca shifted over into the middle of the back seat so that she could see better out the windscreen. Arching a brow at being called “Old Woman”, Bianca snarled at Athalia but shrugged her off as her attention was diverted again by the crazy Athalia.. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the van that the crazy Angel chick was referring to, and she nodded silently as she leaned forward, her brow furrowing in concentration.

As if things suddenly morphed into slow motion, Bianca saw clearly the two trucks, the van and the police car that had been safely left back at the truck stop. The driver of the red truck was a bald man by the name of Bob who had grey blue eyes that suddenly went blank as he stared in stony silence out at the road ahead of him. As a drop of blood dripped out of Biancas left nostril, Bob grabbed hold of the steering wheel and jerked it suddenly to the right, slamming the cab of his truck into the side of the truck beside it. As both trucks jerked and spun out of control, they came deliciously close to the van that traveled behind them. The van however was fortunate enough to slam on its brakes before crashing into the trucks, which had now come to a tangled stop in the centre of the highway. There was no way the van could get through, and Bianca sank back into her seat, wiping the blood that was dripping out of her nose in a slow, steady stream. Closing her eyes in an effort at subduing the pounding throbbing in her head, Bianca prayed for the two in the front to be quiet enough for her to sleep off her recent endeavors. Confused as to her own chosen methods, Biancas’ brow remained furrowed in concentration, as she repeatedly asked herself why she had gone down the relatively unknown path of mind control instead of her usual form of telekinesis. Instead of causing one of the trucks tyres to fall off, causing a major accident in itself, she had messed with poor Bobs mind, and had frightened herself with how much enjoyment this act had caused her. The mind numbing headache, roaring temperature and ringing ears was a small price to pay for the euphoria she had felt when connected with that inner plane of energy. The blood dripping down her cheek had finally stopped, and she wiped her nose for the last time before she fell silent and still as she lay on the back seat of the speeding car.*

[/i]

[Athalia Mischavitch]

Athalia could feel a blast of heat to her right, Tanasha of course, her skin radiated heat, to the point that it was beginning to become uncomfortable, she was sure the car would erupt into flames any minute. She calmed herself, Athalia sighed silently to herself, she grabbed hold of her hair from the back of her neck and brushed it to one side, it was thick and tangled, it smelt like cheap shampoo all the inmates were given, if they were good.

The Van behind her were long gone, Athalia could make out a small fire in the distance, black smoke rising. Bianca stopped bleeding, but had apparently passed out

‘Thank god...’

She muttered to herself, smacking her now dark ruby red lips together, lipstick had a distinct taste; she had almost forgotten... how long had it been... 40 years? Longer? She shook her head and battered her eyelashes, she looked 17... Maybe she was nuts... maybe she wasn’t an angel. The thought scared her, she was thinking... clearly.

‘My head hurts...’

She told Tanasha as she turned up the air-con, Athalia enjoyed the sensation, everything was special, she had spent so long in a cell. Athalia took her hands off the wheel, leaned over Tanasha and opened her window before taking the wheel again, the care swerved.

‘Feeling better?’

She asked her friend, a road sign read ‘Envirtus’ Athalia frowned; she stopped at a stop sign at an intersection.

‘Where too Tanasha? We can keep going or stop in that town’

She pointed to the stop sigh, feeling a chill run down the back of her neck, they had been driving for a while now. The chances or running into people, or worse, cops was increasing the further into civilization they made it.

[Tanasha Arati]

“God, she never shuts up.”

:~:Still slumped against her door, Ta forced her eyes open and gazed out the window as the world rushed by. She didn’t have to turn and look back to know what chaos lay behind them, as the sounds of crunching metal and screeching tires created a realistic mental image. So the bitch in the back wasn’t completely useless. Yet. Inch by inch her body cooled, the internal fire gradually retreating to its undisclosed home inside her. Bianca finally managed the impossible- shut her mouth- and had fallen into a deep silence that immediately calmed Tanasha’s fraying nerves. With any luck she’d suddenly died of some exotic and horribly painful disease. If they didn’t find a place to lose her, dead or alive, soon, it was hard to say how many times she’d catch the interior of their new ride on fire. For now, however, there was peace and rather than waste it fuming about the obnoxious tagalong, she was going to savor each and every moment she didn’t feel like a living torch.

Crash coaxed a smirk out of the temperamental Ta as she praised Bia’s silence aloud. What better reason to thank God for than that? Pushing off the door, she settled herself back into the seat and drew the blanket around her. Modest she wasn’t, but neither was she in love with the idea of being naked in a stolen car with two women. It just wasn’t natural. Pale green now that the gold had thinned to its usual iris-encompassing band, her eyes rested on Atha…May’s face as a flurry of mixed emotions flitted over it. As long as the angel had been in that hellhole, it was no wonder she had so much on her mind in the face of real freedom. In an uncharacteristically gentle gesture, Tanasha placed a comforting hand on the woman’s arm as she reached for the passenger side window. Her tone was low and soft when she spoke, though hitched a bit as the car veered temporarily off course.:~:

“Getting there. We did it, Crash. We finally escaped those bastards. Off all of that shit they were feeding you back there, it’ll come back to you. It will. So give your head a rest and soak up this coolness. We’re free!”

:~:She offered a reassuring squeeze before pulling her hand back and let the outside air wash over her face. Ridiculous as it was, she was convinced the air this side of captivity smelled better. The steady blast of it roared in her ears and lifted the thick mane of flame red hair to whip it wildly around her. The aches, pains and weariness were a small price to pay for the chance to run her own life. To say she was giddy would be an understatement. The wind died as they slowed for the intersection and the tangled tendrils fell over her face and shoulders in a staticy pile. With both hands she shoved it back and contemplated their next move with her hands still fisted atop her head..:~:

“Hmm. The farther the better, I say, but we may want to ditch the main drag. What we need are back roads. We’re sitting ducks out here. What do you think? You probably know as much about these parts as me, huh? Maybe there’s a map or something…”

:~:Leaving Crash to turn or not turn, Ta started pawing through the glove compartment and door pocket. A crumpled map of somewhere lurked at the back of the cubby and she unfolded it for a better look. It was then she realized she had no idea what part of the country they were escaping from anyways. Irritated with herself and the ass-guards who’d beaten her into unconsciousness on arrival to the Park, she huffed and thrust it at the angel.:~:

“Is this of here? Can you believe it- I don’t even know that much. Too stupid.”

[Bianca Bartlett]

*When she awoke, the throbbing in her brain had settled down to a dull roar that only hurt when she moved, blinked or breathed. Groaning softly, Bianca slowly pulled herself upright into a half sitting, half laying position so that her bleary eyes could stare straight ahead out at the highway that stretched before them. The cool air that blew in courtesy of Tanasha’s open window, was a welcome relief from the stuffiness of the back seat, and Bianca closed her eyes for a few more precious moments as she sat slumped over, rubbing her throbbing temples while the breeze blew long wispy strands loose from her tight braid.

When she opened her eyes again, Tanasha was rummaging around in the glove compartment, only to retrieve a crumpled map and thrust it in Athalias’ face. Bianca rolled her eyes, despite the sudden burst of pain she felt, at the sound of Tanasha calling herself “too stupid.”

~You said it..~ she muttered under her breath just as the car made a strange clunking noise. The clunk was followed by a grinding sound that soon gave way to a loud whirring. As the car backfired, Bianca risked serious pain by turning around in the seat to look out the back window. Dark grey smoke billowed out from behind them as the car began to slow down, regardless of whether Athalia was breaking or not.

~Uh.. maybe we should pull over?~ she croaked from her stuffy prison in the back of the car. The thick acrid smoke was now coming in through Tanashas open window, blowing straight into Bianca’s’ face as she coughed and instantly winced against the pain this movement caused her. The car shuddered as it backfired again, the engine screaming in what seemed to be an echo of the pain searing through Bianca’s head, as all the dash lights began to flash in unison.

~That can’t be good.. ~ she muttered, just as the car stalled in the middle of the highway lane. *

[Talisen Phoenix]

‘The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord’.

Athalia said quietly as the car decided at that very moment to break down on them. Athalia gently pushed her foot on the accelerator willing the car forward, it revved to no avail. Athalia spun the wheel to swerve to the side of the road; she had enough sense for that. The car didn’t swerve... it rolled.

‘Balls...’

Athalia raged and she slammed her canned fists at the steering wheel, the air in front of her hands shimmered with a golden light and there was another load groan from the engine. It promptly fell from the front of the car loudly, it hissed dangerously in reply.

Athalia looked at Tanasha through the smoke weakly, all she could do was stare at her friend with large blue eyes, she didn’t have to say anything, it was all in the eyes. They’re going to find us, they’re going to take us back, and they’re going to make us regret escaping. She pushed the front door open and coughed, in a mix between a jump and a stumble. She grabbed her victim’s handbags and immediately began reapplying her heavy black mascara. She ripped her white hospital slip off and began to dress herself with the clothes she stole. She pulled her ridiculously long hair into a ponytail. She pulled on a black sweater that resembled something of a spider web across her chest and finished just above her stomach. She managed to pull on a pair of leather black pants that were far too big for her, but comfortable none the less, and a pair of red boots.

She made her way to the other side of the car, stepping past Bianca and flicking her wavy hair in the woman’s face, she helped Tanasha, kicking the car with her now booted foot in the protest.

‘Will it explode? Do cars really do that? They let us have a TV for a week in 1977 I think... i saw it once. It exploded.’

She took a second to take in her surroundings for the first time, the highway seemed to go on forever, the road out of Eden. Surrounding the road were huge swaying pine trees. Athalia sighed and licked her painted red lips.

‘This is your fault Bartlett...’

[Ben Cooper]

The road was endless. Always had been, and one could almost lose themselves in its repetition. The line sinking beneath the left side, as though being crushed methodically by the thick tires as he plowed on. The eighteen wheeler was comfortable for its kind, with a small cabin in the back for those long cross-country hauls. He did those frequently, in business for himself in a sense, hiring his truck and skills out where he could find work. The idea of drifting, and moving... never staying in one place always appealed to him. But of course, he had to always return to High Park upstate. A pleasant albeit secluded place, it was restorative to his state of mind. He could reflect, recollect, and then he was ready to hit the road again.

The road was a cold, lonely place at night, and during those times he hated it passionately. But during the day, the monotony was comforting, as unchanging as he had ever wanted life to be, and he was happy, alone with his thoughts. Now of course, the radio was blaring, and he was singing in a tone which was surprisingly melodic, his large left hand gripping the steering wheel with casual ease, his right shifting gears as natural as breathing.

He liked this song, though some thought it was coarse. The energy and emotion that rang through it made his spirits soar. And he so dearly needed them soaring after today.

No, mustn't think about that... It was ten years ago today. Not thinking about that. He stopped singing momentarily, distracted by his chaotic inner emotions, until another song came on and won his attention. Slowly, he began to delve into the song, singing again in that oddly beautiful voice, emerging from his rugged, stone like face:

Your mind won't let you say that you want me
Your mind won't ever, never let you say what you want
You howl and wail like a banshee
Still your mind won't ever let you say
My little tired devotee
Your mind wont even let you feel!

His left hand beat time erratically, his sense of music impressive but still amateurish. The wheel itself had indentations from many such episodes, and his hands were numb from the hard playing during the song.

Quivering now, shivering now, withering

The road went on. Lost in his song, it was with great surprise that he saw the car off to the side of the road. It had rolled. Checking himself, the song played on in the background, but he reached over and turned the radio off, leaning nearly out of the window to get a better view. There was no one on the road at the moment, and he was the only person around. Better check it out.

Pulling in front of the wreck, his truck releasing a hiss and the squeal of the heavy brakes in effect, he kicked the door open and hopped out. Expecting to see gore and perhaps worse, he was surprised to see three young women emerging from the vehicle. Mouth open, like some sort of country bumpkin (For which he was, in a sense), he wasn't sure if they were hurt or not, or in shock like he'd seen one lady on tv after a wreck. Not quite knowing how to help, he came forward awkwardly and said: "Um... are... are y'all okay?" Such a quiet voice from a man who looked like a rock-hard firefighter or a boxing heavyweight champ, totally out of line with the rest of his rugged appearance.

[Tanasha Arati]

“Damn, you’re not dead yet. Got my hopes up and everything. It won’t be my IQ that I use to bash your head against the hood until you stop talking shit, so keep it up.”

:~:In spite of her irritation that Bianca hadn’t passed on to the next world, Tanasha had trouble missing the evil noises their traitorous ride was making. Even if she’d managed to deny those, the smoke hitting her in the face- smoke that wasn’t coming off anything she’d set on fire with her own two hands- made the problem even harder to ignore. With Bia keeping up commentary from the back, Ta felt her panic mixing with anger all over again. It wasn’t bad enough she was running for not only her life, but Atha..May’s as well, without having to put up with the mental-mutant’s crap every other thing.:~:

“If the Lord wants it back so bad maybe He ought to come down here and get it back in person. We were kind of still using it!”

:~:Gritting her teeth so hard her jaw was beginning to ache, Ta watched the angel rage against the steering wheel and kept her own in check. Perhaps she’d never had anyone to look after and wasn’t the best suited for it, but as God was doing such a sucky job of protecting the angel from the monsters of earth, she’d give it her all, damn it. Comforting words and hugs weren’t Ta’s thing, nor would they save Crash from the very real danger on their asses every second. She’d do what she did best and plan instead. She met the woman’s terror filled blue eyes with more confidence in her own green ones than actually existed inside. If she had to blow up this whole planet single-handedly to keep Crash from them, it would be done. To the long, blonde hair that retreated after Atha..May as she climbed out, Ta spoke quietly.:~:

“We’ll deal, Crash. Whatever it takes.”

:~:She sat a minute more as Crash dressed in some hooker’s clothes and Bia did whatever it was she did in crises, was likely a lot more bitching than any type of action. With nothing but the blanket to face the world in, Ta threw open her door and seriously considered setting the car on fire before Bia could get out. They’d find a body and maybe mistake it for one of them…they’d never know it was this one. The flames would also draw the unwanted attention of anyone for miles. Hmpf. Eyeing Ath..May in her new get up- from linen to leather, innocent to sinful, angel to demon- it would be a wonder if anyone recognized her anyways. Almost foreign to her face, Ta smiled.:~:

“I could help it along, if you really wanted to see Tele-bitch in there fry, but we’d get more hassle than it’s worth. Hard to believe, I know. We just need to find a…”

:~:And before the words were out of her mouth, a big rig was slowing to a stop just ahead of them. Of all of the vehicles she’d trust at the moment, this was riding the top of the list. Had a black SUV or a white van made an appearance just now, there’d have been swears and flames all around. The government had little to do with tractor trailers and from the looks of the man getting out of it, the driver had even less to do with the government. Unless it citizen-run government in the deep South managed by big, tough men with shotguns and pitchforks, that is. They could be saved…and after they were, she’d be sure to ask about Bartlett, if Crash even remembered that long. A combination of his use of “y’all” and her glee at yet another chance to escape had her biting down on the urge to laugh aloud. No, now was the time to appear distressed. The sweet, country fellows of the world ate that BS up like kittens in spilled milk. Knowing next to nothing about him and wrapped in a scented blanket, she rounded the car, put the most wounded look she could manage on her face and approached the stranger. Whatever he was capable of, whatever his nature, he was a means to an end for the moment and she was sure she could take him if it came to it. For now it was just a matter of getting the hell out of here.:~:

“Thank God…” :~:more under her breath than anything came the next part:~ for nothing…~:and louder yet:~: I’m so glad someone found us. Our car’s broken down and he’s after us. My ex..I don’t know what’ll do if he finds us. He's so violent… Please, please give us a ride. Anywhere. We don't have much, but we could pay you...” :~:Yeah, right.:~:

:~:So it was soap opera cliché, the biggest load of shit she’d ever dumped on anyone and ever so slightly over the top, but it tied in with her lack of clothes somewhat and certainly the varying shades of bruises spreading over the exposed skin of her face and body that the guards had inflicted on her way out and the blanket couldn’t hide entirely. She was improvising. Maybe, just this once, Bia would shut her trap, find a role to play in this lame, little story and come along quietly. It was highly unlikely, but uncontrollable for the moment. Forcing the hand clutching the blanket around her chest to tremble, she widened her eyes and looked around wildly, as if the mysterious ex might spring out of the woods, in entirely feigned fright, though couldn’t quite get them to water. So she wouldn’t be winning an Oscar. Boo hoo.:~:

[Bianca Bartlett]

*Bianca uttered a short shrill scream in response to the sudden lurch and subsequent roll of their “borrowed” vehicle, as she tumbled around the backseat like soapy clothes in a washing machine. Her already pounding head connected with the top of the car with several loud cracks, causing her to momentarily black out before being brought back to consciousness by the searing agony in her brain. Whimpering like a wounded puppy, Tanasha’s endless drivel was the last thing on Bianca’s mind as she looked on unbelievably as the Angel bitch, er.. Athalia took the time to change from her hospital gear into an outfit more appropriate for Tanasha than for the woman who thinks of herself as a fallen Angel.

Following their lead, she pulled her painful body out of the wreckage, wrinkling her nose at the sudden overpowering stench of petrol. She heard Athalia babble on about the car exploding, and Tanashas quips about helping it along with the added bonus of Biancas burning corpse as a special surprise to any emergency services sent to deal with the wrecked inferno. Refusing to waste her dwindling energy on offering any kind of response, Bianca hitched up the waist of her jeans that were still a size too big as she straightened her legs, wincing at the bullet wound in her thigh that suddenly decided to flare up again. Wiping her hands on the back of her tight white singlet, Bianca took several deep breaths, trying to clear her lungs of the thick black smoke she had been breathing only seconds before.

Standing by the side of the car, but pointedly separate from the other women, Bianca swayed unsteadily on her feet as the sound of a trucks squealing brakes raged into her already buzzing ears. Black spots swam in front of her eyes, but when her blurry vision finally cleared she saw a large truck had pulled over and an equally large man was walking towards them. She was mildly surprised to see Tanasha appear almost charming as she gave the man some sob story about a supposed “ex” who was apparently after them. It was a decent enough story she thought, as she bit down her lip hard to stop herself from passing out. Trying to offer some sort of support for their current situation as well as a possible explanation for Tanasha’s lack of clothes, Bianca took one wobbly step forward as she nodded and mumbled

~Yes.. please help us.. my..er.. sister…~ she almost laughed at the improbability of this statement. ~Her ex is crazy… he almost killed her.. he even stole her clothes so she couldn’t leave… ~

Bianca winced visibly as another stabbing pain seared through her head. Whatever story she had been heading towards quickly faded into insignificance as she finally lost her battle with her consciousness and promptly passed out. Falling to a crumpled heap on the blacktop, Bianca whacked the side of her left temple on the road causing a thin trickle of dark red blood to drip onto the highway. *

[Athalia Mischavitch]

Athalia gave Bianca a sideway glance, her brows furrowed accusingly.

‘You’re such a drama queen...’

She said, pinching the woman on the arm, like a child would in the playground. The Truck slowly stopped in front of them and a man stepped out. Athalia put a hand on Tanasha’s arm as a warning and pulled back, but she had her heard set, she probably didn’t even notice her grip. Athalia let go and stepped back with Bianca, standing slightly behind her and a little too close.

“And there went out a champion out of the camp of the Philistines, named Goliath, of Gath, whose height was six cubits and a span.”

Athalia exclaimed, a little too loudly, she had begun to pull at her hair slightly again, taking her long ponytail between her fingers and tugging on it nervously. She left Bianca’s side and made her way towards the truck, she looked at one of its wheels closely, surveying it like she knew what she was looking at. She circled the truck, deep in her own thoughts. She snapped back to reality when she heard a dull thud on the road, she turned back and saw Bianca lying on the road.

'Maybe she's dead!'

She clapped her hands and squealed excitedly jumping in the air. She poked at Bianca and sighed deeply.

‘And he stood over her and rebuked the fever, and it left her, and immediately she rose and began to serve them’...

With surprising ease, she leaned over the woman and picked her up gently in her arms, she looked at Tanasha pleadingly. They needed to move and fast.


((Sorry for the shortness guys, I also apologies for the rather ambiguous ‘roll’ when I said the car didn’t swerve, it rolled, I meant, it didn’t screech across the road swerving, it kinda just stopped and rolled the rest of the way across the road, should have made that clear...))

[Ben Cooper]

The scene before him was perhaps too much for his simple sensibilities. The first girl to emerge - a redhead- was barely in modesty with her wrapped blanket, a score of bruises on her body that hadn't aged well made him stare stupidly. She seemed on the verge of irritation and something else until she spotted him. He swallowed over a dry tongue and straightened himself, trying to appear friendly and presentable and not the least bit slow-witted in the situation. If they were hurt, they needed someone to help and think clearly, not gawk. Still, he lingered in spot as though rooted, not willing to come barreling forward and scare them witless. He had no idea what they had been through, but if the bruises were any indicator, he should try talking from a distance first and reassure them.

So much like...

The iron gate came down, shutting out such thoughts. He sometimes could benefit from his mental control, and steer the mind in the right direction. He thanked those listening mentally for such control in this situation.

Red came forward, thankful for his presence, and pleading for a ride. She said she was fleeing some abusive ex, and from the state of it, he was inclined to believe the tale. No sense in asking questions about that, though his eyes moved to the bruises automatically, and he had to check himself again. Her offers of money did not make a lick of difference- he had resolved to try and help the moment he saw them emerge from the vehicle.

Behind the redhead, the other two got out. One was reeling and clearly not right, her sense of balance lacking. He watched her with keen interest, concerned that she had taken a rather nasty wound or something. Lord knows what this punk of an ex has been doing to them. He felt a sort of self-righteousness develop in him, angry at any piece of scum who would willingly harm them. They seemed innocent to him- angels, in need of protection. Only a monster could hurt them, he concluded.

The second girl came back into focus as he realized she was speaking. Her green eyes were blurry, maybe a concussion? - when she begged too for assistance for her sister. Something about that sentence hadn't convinced him of their family relationship, but he imagined most women called each other "sister" at times. They did on TV. And why would the ex steal her clothes? - he wondered briefly. Clothes are rather inconvenient to remove on a conscious person who's fighting, he imagined.

The third, a slight figure, blonde as the wheat is gold, came out and immediately began dressing in a frenzy manner which immediately tipped Ben off as to her issue. She's not quite right upstairs, he noted, his mind having a surprisingly keen insight into her jerky, erratic motions, and the way she focused on it before anything else. Much like someone who washes their hands obsessively, he thought. She caught sight of him and quoted from the Bible, something which made him impressed. Not many read the good book these days, and he was comforted by that knowledge.

Aware that he was being mute, he stuttered: "Uh... l-let me help. I can drive y'all out o' here. No big deal. Are... are... are.. any of you hurt?" His eyes lingered on the dark haired one, who looked about to tip like Pisa. He started forward out of instinct, and stopped himself one step out, his rock-like face turning into something like wretched concern. The sight of her blood made his stomach turn, but he did not show it, instead saying: "Oh mah god... Does... does she need an ambulance?"

[Tanasha Arati]

~my.. er.. sister~ :~:…indeed. When Tanasha’s lips quivered into what would have been a smirk, she turned the expression into something slightly more situation-appropriate. Finding the necessary display of concern was considerably harder as Bianca collapsed like a house of cards in a windstorm mid-fib when, instead, amusement and hope rose in its place.:~:

‘Maybe she’s dead!’

:~:As usual, Crash couldn’t have said it better than Ta herself. Though “If only…” was going through her mind and quite possibly across her face, Athalia’s antics and the trucker’s inability to bring his eyes above her chin kept that secret safe for now. Taking the opportunity to check over her shoulder for any suspicious vehicles on the horizon, she was relieved to see the angel had scraped the telepath off the pavement and they could finally get moving. If she put their lives in the stuttering wonder’s hands any longer, they would still be standing here next week when the institute’s goons and god only knew who else came to the collect them. That plaguing her thoughts, she and her blanket brushed against him purposely on her way to his truck, hoping to get his obviously struggling mind back on the plan. If the urgency of the made-up ex didn’t inspire him to hurry, perhaps the unrealistic dream of having an interested, half-nude woman riding shotgun in his rig would. Now if only she could keep him from fainting along with Bianca, she’d be doing well. It took some soul searching and a roll of her eyes, but Ta managed to hitch her voice up a few levels so it came out nervous and breathy enough for a woman in her “position”.:~:

“Thank you so much! I’ve just been so afraid, but we’ll be fine now that you’re here.” :~:Cause you’re such a white knight and all.:~: “Just so long as we get out of here before he” :~:…or they:~: “shows up… Oh, she’s fine.” :~:..useless bitch…:~: “Low blood sugar, you know… Collapses all the time. I tried to tell her to grab some raisins on the way out, but with all of the excitement she forgot I guess. The farther we are from here, the safer she’ll be.” :~:So come on, dopey, move your ass…:~:

:~:With a “C’mon!” gesture to Crash..er…May, Ta braced one bare foot on the cold, metal step of their new ride and hauled open the passenger side door with all the confidence of someone who’d been in and out of it countless times. From this height she took a quick peek into the cab and, if possible, the bunk in the back. It would do. Easing back onto the cracked tar, she swore at the very first mall she came to she’d be buying shoes. Lots of them. She waited at the base of the stairs in order to help Athalia shove Bianca up and in.:~:

[Bianca Bartlett]

*As if her soul had already departed from her wounded body, Bianca felt a strange sense of detachment as she was vaguely aware of her body being picked up by Athalia. She was clumsily carried toward the waiting truck as she simmered between consciousness and the dark void that continued to swim behind her eye lids.

With her eyes closed, her mind temporarily left the spiralling chasm of pain that threatened to consume her, to a happier plane where Derek was still with her and she was safe in his arms. Athalia’s grip was soon replaced with Derek’s comforting strong grasp and she snuggled down into his arms, never wanting to leave. Moaning softly to herself, she spoke to him in a language only the two of them could understand, her eyeballs flickering back and forth behind her fevered lids. She sighed in relief as he promised to never leave her again, and listened eagerly as he assured her he would keep her safe.

When she awoke a few minutes later, she was startled to see Athalias’ angelic blonde features looming over her, instead of Derek’s dark handsome face. Using the last of her remaining strength she managed to utter a loud shrill as she thrashed around weakly in the fallen angels arms, before she passed out once more. This time her sleep was much more peaceful, and as she lay slumped in Athalias’ arms it appeared that it would be a long time before she awoke again. *

(my apologies for shortness but there just aint too much for an unconscious chicky to do right now, ya know? ;D )

[Athalia Mischavitch]

Athalia held Bianca close to her chest; she moved closer to the rig and followed Tanasha, gently lifting her nemesis and throwing her at the same time. She lay her in the small coffin-like coffin and pushed forward to sit next to the Tanasha. She smiled happily at her surroundings, she hadn’t been in a truck in the longest time, it was nice... being up so high. Athalia felt the sudden compulsion to be as high as possible and never look back. She sunk deep into the seat and urged Ben forward,

‘Do a girl a favor and go really fast...’

She said with a mischievous grin. In the back of her mind she could see something, a memory perhaps... It was hard to tell with Athalia, reality and imagination tended to mix and get all confused, especially since her ‘memories’ were far too complicated to be real, it simply wasn’t possible, she was slowly realizing that know.

‘I won’t be seventy-two forever bucko, petal... metal.’

She knew it was true, somewhere in her rattled mind, she knew it was true. She could remember a time, long ago, when she first arrived... they weren’t the only ones to escape, there had been others... two men... no, two children. One could change his body, morph and melt, he escaped, for two days. The institute couldn’t find him and his friend, so they sent the devoted... the name gave her chills.

‘The Devoted are coming...’

She said quietly to Tanasha, fear plastered over her face; she dug her fingernails into her knees.

[Blood and Roses]

((Ahem... Allow me to introduce your enemies))
Officer Pendelson slowed the old Bronco to a near-crawl as the smoke from the wreckage got thicker, flicking on the light bar of the patrol vehicle. He let out a low whistle, eyes wide and staring as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Two semi trailers, one turned over on its side. The other looked as though the driver had attempted to brake, but still plowed the cab through the other's trailer, just behind the tail. At the intersecting point, where the two trucks met, the twisted remains of a police cruiser. All three engines had exploded, setting both trailers aflame. In effect, the road was blocked by a V-shaped mass of flame and ruined metal.

Parked in the middle of the road was a white van.

Pendelson called in his report over the two-way, describing the scene to the operator, then whispered a prayer as he parked and exited his vehicle, 50 yards from the wreckage and the van. A rape van, one of those vehicles with no windows or features of any kind, with a sliding door and double doors in the rear, popular among abductors and their ilk. The trooper could see that the rear double-door was open. Leaning against the side of the van was a figure obscured by the smokescreen, but if he had to guess, he would say it was a woman. And though he could not see her well, he felt that she was staring right at him.

Despite the heat of the burning trucks, the hairs on his arms and neck rose, like a cold breeze had blown across him. Pendelson could feel that something wasn't right, though he couldn't put his finger on it. Swallowing a sudden lump in his throat, he called out to the shadowy form beside the van. "Police! Show me your hands!" He continued approaching, gun raised, unsure why he'd taken such an aggressive stance, other than it felt like the right thing to do. His knees began to tremble as the smoky figure turned to face him, and two more moving shapes appeared near her. The trio moved out to meet him. The trooper screamed, "Freeze!" and cocked his weapon, but they paid him no heed.

As they approached, Officer Pendelson made mental notes of the three to file in his report later. The three were dressed in black. Two men, both in custom-tailored suits with white undershirts. One of them was more slender than the other, with sandy hair that fell into his face, which sported a tightly trimmed goatee and icy blue eyes. He wore a tie, and the look of disdain on his face seemed permanently etched upon the front of his head.

The other man had no tie, the shirt unbuttoned to expose tanned flesh. His hair was black and cut short, and a pair of Armani sunglasses perched on handsome features. His suit did not disguise that he was an impressive physical specimen; he moved with an easy grace that suggested he was either a talented dancer, or a seasoned fighter.

The last, a woman, wore a dress suitable for a gala or some other upper-class social function, with straps that tied behind her neck and crossed over her chest, leaving her shoulders and midriff exposed, hugging her hips and stopping above her knees, with slits on either side traveled nearly the length of her thighs. Her hair hung in platinum spirals over bronze skin, and her eyes were pools of ink, eyes that a man could drown in.

The three looked, to Pendelson, comically out of place here, in the middle of nowhere on the interstate, traveling in a plain white van instead of an expensive private jet. This only served to heighten his unease, and he tightened his grip on the revolver. Surely, something was happening here, and he wanted answers.

The trio of well-dressed strangers halted their advance at 10 paces, and the woman gave a dazzling smile at the trembling highway patrolman. "Good afternoon, Officer," she said pleasantly. Pendelson was reminded of the old myths about Sirens, beautiful women with voices that could drive a man to suicide. "We're glad you're here. The FBI needs your assistance in pursuing and capturing some dangerous criminals. We were in pursuit when this... tradgedy... occurred."

Pendelson nodded dumbly, his reeling mind suddenly smothered in a haze. The world around him seemed to blur and swim, like he'd taken a powerful sedative and could not find the strength to
retort. He didn't truly believe they were Feds, but his brain didn't register that he should care about that. The gun in his hands dipped, then fell from nerveless fingers. "Yeah... uh, how... how can I help?" he said.

"We need your vehicle, Officer," she said, and the two men on either side of her glanced at one another. The larger man grinned. "I would like you to give me your keys." Pendelson did so without question. "Thank you. Now, I would like for you to climb into the cab of that overturned truck there. Don't mind the flames. You won't feel them at first."

The three watched as the trooper shuffled off like one sleepwalking, and the large man let out a chuckle. "Sasha, you're going to Hell. You know that, don't you?"

The blond man shot a glance at him. "Watch it, Rye. She's obviously having a moment here."

Sasha didn't look away from Pendelson's wandering form. "It's okay, Drake. I don't expect him to get it. Hell is reserved for the ones who are ashamed of what they do." Pendelson had reached the truck, looking it over for a way to climb in through the window of the cab. "If there's no shame or guilt, what makes it wrong?" The trooper climbed the undercarriage of the rig, heedless of the flames emerging from the window above him. "God's already planned it all out. If it weren't in God's design, I wouldn't be allowed to do the things I do, right?" Pendelson, having reached the window, heaved himself over the side and into the flaming wreck. "It's only a sin if you think what you're doing is wrong."

The three black-clad figures climbed into the Bronco, the one called Drake in the driver's seat, and Sasha riding shotgun. The vehicle roared to life and rolled, driving around the smoking wreck as the sound of emergency vehicle sirens in the distance reached their ears. Sunlight flashed on the large State Trooper emblem on the side of the SUV as they pulled away from the scene, in pursuit of their quarry, as the agonized screams of Officer Pendelson mingled with the wailing of the approaching fire rescue trucks.