02-04-2017, 09:41 PM
The girl practically crawled under his shirt when he suggested she go to Nox. The nuzzling sparked memories of Shredder, the kitten from Sierra Leone, clinging to him and not letting go. With a bad taste in the back of his throat, he nodded and moved toward the stage.
A swift kick pushed over barricades. No steps led up to the platform, so he had to heft the girl to the stage, which was high as his chest, and set her down. That was just the outer platform. The inner most level where the band was set up was well over his head. A big heave and he kicked a leg over the side and pulled himself up smoothly, used to complicated obstacles from the years of training courses. Throw a seventy five pound ruck on his back and at least then it would feel like work, this was just fun. Excluding all the decapitating and blood and stuff.
He was in the midst of picking the girl back up when lights burst with bright flame. Fire rose, flames licking the air. Jay stared at it a moment, lost in the devouring motion, and braced himself to hear the shrieking of female voices, but their torment didn't rise.
Blinking, he realized beams of white light were close. Radios and communicators rode the air on waves, and he hissed a warning, "Nox! Get that ass in gear and come on!"
He took off toward the edges of the stage, seeking exits. The glow of distant firelight was all he could see by, and he wished for even the simplest piece of gear.
"Fuck me,"
he whispered to himself, wishing he hadn't sworn in front of the girl as soon as he said it. But the angst was self-directed, as he realized he had a Wallet in his pocket. He shifted the girl's weight in his arms and dug it out, flipping on the flash lamp mode, and used it to guide their steps whether Nox was behind him or not.
"I'll get you out of here,"
he told the girl, voice gentler than before. He once killed a man for hurting a girl about her age. Maybe a little younger. At least this time her attacker was already dead. Vicious bastard. Was he some psycho serial killer thinking to get away with murder in the middle of a concert? And why the hell did Nox need its head. Was the thing not dead enough to his liking?
The wings of the stage led to halls, abandoned. The halls connected prep rooms, storage areas, and maintenance corridors. They could walk for hours and still be lost. So in general, Jay opted for routes that seemed upward and outward. Giant auditoriums built for mega concerts were always dug down many levels underground. They were giant pits rimmed with stadium seating. He managed to keep a mental map in their head as they proceeded, chalk that up to special forces training, and it took a good fifteen minutes to taste fresh air. The girl had stopped weeping by then and just rested against his chest. He hoped she rested anyway and hadn't passed out.
A swift kick pushed over barricades. No steps led up to the platform, so he had to heft the girl to the stage, which was high as his chest, and set her down. That was just the outer platform. The inner most level where the band was set up was well over his head. A big heave and he kicked a leg over the side and pulled himself up smoothly, used to complicated obstacles from the years of training courses. Throw a seventy five pound ruck on his back and at least then it would feel like work, this was just fun. Excluding all the decapitating and blood and stuff.
He was in the midst of picking the girl back up when lights burst with bright flame. Fire rose, flames licking the air. Jay stared at it a moment, lost in the devouring motion, and braced himself to hear the shrieking of female voices, but their torment didn't rise.
Blinking, he realized beams of white light were close. Radios and communicators rode the air on waves, and he hissed a warning, "Nox! Get that ass in gear and come on!"
He took off toward the edges of the stage, seeking exits. The glow of distant firelight was all he could see by, and he wished for even the simplest piece of gear.
"Fuck me,"
he whispered to himself, wishing he hadn't sworn in front of the girl as soon as he said it. But the angst was self-directed, as he realized he had a Wallet in his pocket. He shifted the girl's weight in his arms and dug it out, flipping on the flash lamp mode, and used it to guide their steps whether Nox was behind him or not.
"I'll get you out of here,"
he told the girl, voice gentler than before. He once killed a man for hurting a girl about her age. Maybe a little younger. At least this time her attacker was already dead. Vicious bastard. Was he some psycho serial killer thinking to get away with murder in the middle of a concert? And why the hell did Nox need its head. Was the thing not dead enough to his liking?
The wings of the stage led to halls, abandoned. The halls connected prep rooms, storage areas, and maintenance corridors. They could walk for hours and still be lost. So in general, Jay opted for routes that seemed upward and outward. Giant auditoriums built for mega concerts were always dug down many levels underground. They were giant pits rimmed with stadium seating. He managed to keep a mental map in their head as they proceeded, chalk that up to special forces training, and it took a good fifteen minutes to taste fresh air. The girl had stopped weeping by then and just rested against his chest. He hoped she rested anyway and hadn't passed out.
Only darkness shows you the light.