InsaneJournal

TWWD snippery.
By popular demand - a TWWD snip!


"I found something that might be useful," she said, pointing to a mess of wires on the desk. "I thought I'd dig through the place to see if Charlene had forgotten her phone here again - she does that sometimes - but she hadn't. But... I found something else."

It was a police radio. Old and bulky - severely outdated, if his experience was anything to go by - but the woman fiddled with it for a while and it flared to life, emitting the hiss of static. Ivan stuffed his salvaged goods in his pockets and walked over there, watching over her shoulder as she tuned it. Here and there, they could hear faint voices through the static, but they wavered in and out of reach, most of it swallowed in an unpleasant hiss and crackle.

"I think I can get it to work," the woman told him, sounding slightly distracted. "We ought to be able to reach other police stations with it, at least, but it'll take some time."

As if to punctuate her sentence, there was a resounding crash from downstairs, and she jumped and squeaked.

"Time we do not have," Ivan said, staring at the door.

He had only gotten a quick look at the thing that lurked downstairs, but he was firmly convinced that he did not want it to come up here. Beside him the woman had gone pale, eyes wide like saucers, and she clung to the edge of the desk with white-knuckled hands. I hope she doesn't become hysterical - I hate hysterical people. ... But then, she's been doing fine up until now. As the noise from below grew louder, Ivan turned to her.

"Can you shoot?" he asked, and had to repeat himself once before she heard him.

"What? Oh, uh - yeah. I can. I mean, I'm no sharpshooter or anything, but my dad taught me how," she babbled a bit, letting the words tumble so fast that he had to concentrate to understand properly. "But I haven't got a gun. You have one, but I don't think you're going to give it up. Are you?"

He didn't bother to answer - instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the handgun he had picked off the dead policeman, handing it to her. She took it with slightly awkward motions, but she did seem to know how to handle it, which stilled at least one of his worries. She turned it over in her hands a few times, and then let out a slightly shaky chuckle.

"First the shotgun and now this - you got a whole arsenal down your pants?" she asked, and Ivan snorted, handing her the bullets he had found.



Ivan - coping mechanism: relentless focus on practicalities.
Sorelia - coping mechanism: cracking somewhat inappropriate jokes.