[MW] Pennsylvania

[re_mybrains]

It's a pleasant March afternoon in downtown Harrisburg, Pennsylvania -- sunny, partly cloudy.

In the courtyard of Pennsylvania Apartments, the bang of the front door slamming is still echoing when it opens again.

Two dozen zombies, in varying states of decay, are staggering towards it.

A human lighting generator, a superhero, a geek, and two regular schmoes are coming out the door to face them.

Ladies and gentlemen, place your bets.

Comments

[accipiterpuella.livejournal.com]

"You need to be striking a balance between staying out of sight but not going too remote. Stick to places where you have high visibility in all directions, preferably flat. You need to find gasoline and a vehicle. A big vehicle, then drive like hell. Because trying to skulk your way to New York City might get you dead. I'd say find a garbage truck, but that might be too cliché."

Bossy? Kendra? What?

[re_mybrains]

Blinking, he looks back at her -- and he keeps looking at her for a long moment. Just looking.

Shit.

Finally, he nods. "I'll try, anyway. Roads might not be real passable."

[accipiterpuella.livejournal.com]

"This is going to be the only time you'll ever hear me tell someone to get a Hummer. And you need potable water, Tom. You need to find a hardware or camping store and get water purifying tablets and those portable water filters. Do they have REI here? You need to do this right, or I will be pissed off. I've been doing this kind of thing a long time. Stay hydrated, eat lots of protein, and get all the ammo and weapons that you can. Do you know how to use incendiaries? And get a flamethrower. Can you use a manpack?"

Never mind that he survived here without her or her advice. It's a quality of life issue. If he gets to New York on his last legs and promptly keels over when he finally meets other survivors, that won't do.

[re_mybrains]

Tom blinks. A lot.

"I'm not gonna be able to run if I pick up a flamethrower. What's a manpack?"

[accipiterpuella.livejournal.com]

"It's a portable flamethrower that you strap to your back. Never mind, they're hard to find unless you find a military installation that for some reason still has them. Can you make molotov cocktails? Gas, glass bottle, ignitable wick. Use them if you have to, if your zombies are distracted by fire. They also make people burn nicely. Zombies, too. And a solar powered or hand cranked radio."

Deep breath.

She looks at him, waiting.

[re_mybrains]

"Mostly zombies on fire just keep coming towards you. I think if Elle's electricity hadn't been so powerful it wouldn't have worked. But yeah, I know how to make them."

He looks back at her, and then reaches out to take her hands.

"You're gonna let me go."

[accipiterpuella.livejournal.com]

"Not really," she replies.

She folds her hands into his, letting a thumb graze across the back of his hand, then holding tight.

"But you won't let me come, will you? I'd knock sense into you, except...I understand. I do."

[re_mybrains]

"I'm--"

He's hoarse; he swallows and tries again.

"No." Beat. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't knock any sense into me, this is gonna be tough enough already."

[accipiterpuella.livejournal.com]

"I won't send you into battle already bruised, I promise."

Her hands untangle from his, so she can slide her hands up his arms, reaching up to his shoulders to pull him closer.

Kendra's been told she gives good hugs, because she always means it when she does.

Right now, she's hugging him tightly.

[re_mybrains]

Tom lets out a shaky breath and puts his arms around her, face against her hair.

(And for once he doesn't worry about where the heck you put your hands when you're talking with a woman in spandex.)

"Thanks."

Oh fuck this is hard.

[accipiterpuella.livejournal.com]

It is hard, which is why she completely relaxes into him and holds him, holds onto him because this world may not want to let him go. She's hugging him the way you do when you want to impart every bit of your strength and sense to another (humanoid) being.

"You're welcome," comes the somewhat muffled reply from the vicinity of his shoulder.

He smells good. He smells like Tom. She doesn't want to forget how he smells, or the feel of his cheek in her hair, of the fine bones of his face, or the set of his shoulders and steel of his back.

[re_mybrains]

A couple deep breaths.

"I'm gonna come back, okay?" he murmurs against her ear. "I've gotta do this, and then I'm coming back if I have to try every fucking door between New York and here. I promise."

[accipiterpuella.livejournal.com]

She'd forgotten about that. The door. What if it moves? Maybe she should stay here, pretend to leave with the others and then try to come back, follow him, clear the way to New York, pull a fast one, or at least watch the damn door.

No.

That won't work.

Her head turns, so she can whisper into his ear.

"You better."

If he doesn't, she may have to eventually violate space-time, come back here, and take out her anger on all the undead walking around.

"Tom."

[re_mybrains]

"Yeah."

Tom may not have a head for the bigger picture, but this plan, he can follow through on.

"Yeah?"

[accipiterpuella.livejournal.com]

"It's okay. You can do this. One mile at a time, if need be. I know that you can do this."

Kendra has learned through hard experience that breaking a big problem down into small, manageable steps can work wonders, if you can retain your sanity long enough to get to that point.

"But it gets too bad, come back. You don't have to die here. You don't have to die with this world. No one expects you to."

She leans back enough to look up at his eyes, arms still around him.

[re_mybrains]

He follows suit, shifting to look down at her.

"Thanks."

Taking a deep breath, he straightens -- even manages a hint of a smile. "Believe me, I'm not planning on it."

[accipiterpuella.livejournal.com]

That kinetic motion in his body, that resolve, brings another smile to shine on her face.

"So, let's review. Water, garbage truck, and lots of ammo, okay?"

She's unwilling to let go, but realizes that she'll have to. But before she does that, she presses a soft, slow kiss to his lips.

[re_mybrains]

"Yes ma'ammmph."

It only takes him a second to readjust and lean in, kissing her back, the arm around her waist pulling her closer.

When the kiss breaks, he leans his forehead against hers and murmurs, "Definitely coming back."

[accipiterpuella.livejournal.com]

"Okay."

She touches his cheek, gently.

"I'll hold you to that. How, I'm not yet sure, but I will."

She pulls back, just a bit, to again look at him.

"My name is Kendra."

[re_mybrains]

Tom's face says: Holy shit.

He totally just got her secret identity.

Holy SHIT.

After a moment, he finds his voice. "Kendra. Kendra. I like that."

[accipiterpuella.livejournal.com]

Yes, he did get her secret identity. He's in the Very Much Trusted Club now.

"If you tell anyone, I'll cut your balls off."

It's okay, though. She's laughing when she says it.

[re_mybrains]

"I . . . kind of believe you actually so my lips are one hundred percent sealed."

He takes a deep breath, and then regretfully disentangles himself from her.

"I don't want to leave Shaun and Andrew wondering."

[accipiterpuella.livejournal.com]

She nods.

"Okay. You ready?"

Her mask is retrieved from the ground, and somewhat ceremoniously placed over her face. Her mask is not the kind of mask you can throw on.

[re_mybrains]

"What do you think?"

He picks up the cricket bat, weighs it in his hand for a moment, and then turns to lead the way back into sight of Shaun and Andrew.

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew's periodically scanning the area and watching for Tom and Kendra to get back.

Okay, mostly watching for Tom and Kendra to get back, and that's why he's the first to see them come back into view.

"They're back," he says over his shoulder to Shaun, and raises a hand to wave.