Reeves Bennington (mr_bennington) wrote in program68,
2008-08-01 23:33:00

H8 Day 5

It'd taken him a while to get the safe open, but he was well rewarded when he did. A gun and a box of bullets. It was nothing short of a blessing.

He'd been angry and reluctant when Rue had decided to speak up again, but in the end, Rue was right. He'd have to meet up with these people at some point anyway, and time was running out. He needed to finish this.

If he's going to catch up to the wagon he saw the previous day, he's going to need to move quickly, and so he sets off to the south again, gun, crow bar, and bat in tow.
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  • 11 comments

mr_rue

August 2 2008, 04:06:41 UTC 4 years ago

There is someone else there, living within the bursts of lightning. In the darkness of the storm, he's invisible-- a nonentity-- but each time the world lights up, he exists in brief, half-second flashes. Now, lying down on the grass. Now, standing erect, hands behind his back. Now, on his knees, hissing silently into the ground.

He is the man in the corner of your eye. He is your blind spot. His form is only a shadow, now, a smudge in the air, but he's coming.

It won't be long.

mr_bennington

August 2 2008, 04:07:07 UTC 4 years ago

Reeves tries to ignore him, because he doesn't exist. It's all in his mind. It's the stress of course, it's gotten to him.

But he sees the familiar form more and more frequently as he runs, flashes of movement and familiarity out of the corners of his eyes. He's soaked to the bone, shivering, breath rasping in his throat. He's not cut out for this.

mr_rue

August 2 2008, 04:19:34 UTC 4 years ago

And then, behind Reeves, there's wheezing.

It happens so quickly, gaining solid form. One minute the world exists in intervals, and the next he's crumpled on the ground of a field, his hands (his hands) digging into the mud. He's wearing the same, gray jumpsuit as everyone else. Snug around his neck is a metal collar.

He's alive.

Not just fake-alive either-- not like possession. He's actually living. His lungs burn with each breath, but it's beautiful, so beautiful and he never thought this would happen again.

His coughs gradually become laughter, and then sobs. God. He's alive.

mr_bennington

August 2 2008, 04:26:33 UTC 4 years ago

Reeves has already slowed down. He can't keep up a pace like that. Stamina just isn't his thing. So when he hears the wheezing, it isn't hard to stop, even with the rain drenched earth sinking and slipping under his feet.

He stops but he doesn't turn around right away, just listening to the coughs, the laughter, the sobbing. His expression is a blank slate when he finally turns, eyes cold as the rain beating down on them.

"Mr. Rue."

mr_rue

August 2 2008, 04:43:05 UTC 4 years ago

"Mr. Bennington," he says, raising his head to grin at the other man. His voice is raspy and poorly modulated. "Can you believe that this--"

And he sees his eyes.

His grin fades to a nervous smile, now, as he brings a shaking hand up to feel the collar around his neck. Soon after, the smile fades completely, giving into fear and stress, and dammit, he knows Reeves has a gun, and he isn't going to do anything, is he? He's left on his hands and knees, staring up at his former partner. He doesn't dare look away.

mr_bennington

August 2 2008, 04:52:45 UTC 4 years ago

"Mr. Rue." He repeats, canting his head to the side with a small smile. "Welcome back."

Calmly, carefully, he unzips the bag slung over his shoulder. "No, I can't believe it." He says quietly, drawing out the gun inside and, just as calmly, beginning to load it. It's all very slow and methodic, like he has all the time in the world.

"Do you?"

mr_rue

August 2 2008, 05:16:24 UTC 4 years ago

"Y-You know that what I did was right," he starts, watching him. "You know I saved both our lives."

Which isn't going to matter, he tells himself, if Reeves finishes loading that gun. He doesn't have any illusions about what's going to happen here. He's talking to fill the space, mostly, and because he wants to be heard.

But being heard means nothing if you're dead. He knows this, now. He knows that nothing matters.

He can't let this happen again. He can't let it happen again.

He shoots up off the ground and lunges at Reeves. There is nothing smooth or calculating about this move. It's only the pure desperation to survive.

mr_bennington

August 2 2008, 05:20:29 UTC 4 years ago

No, Rue. What you did wasn't right. He had it under control, you see. You crossed a thin line.

The last bullet goes in with a dull clink and he quickly raises the gun, firing twice at Rue as he lunges forward. And yes, he's aiming for vitals.

mr_rue

August 2 2008, 06:02:12 UTC 4 years ago

The first shot hits him in the shoulder, but the last hits his chest, definitely his chest...

The world shifts and he loses his footing, knees buckling out from under him. He hits the ground rougher than he expected, the extra shock of the fall sending flashes of white, hot pain all down his chest and spine. He shudders, staying awake by keeping his eyes wide open and focused. On the grass. On Reeves' shoes. On anything.

Get moving.

He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to at least get on his hands and knees. He doesn't have the energy, and he slips down to the earth again, forehead sagging down into the mud.

"R-Reeves," he says finally, barely above a whisper. "This doesn't h-h-h-have to--"

But it does.

mr_bennington

August 2 2008, 06:12:58 UTC 4 years ago

Reeves lowers the gun and takes the few steps to Rue's fallen form slowly. "It does." He says quietly, pausing to look down at the other man.

"...Do me a favor and stay dead this time, Mr. Rue?" And he raises the gun slightly, aiming for Rue's head and firing.

Goodnight, Mr. Rue.

mr_rue

August 2 2008, 06:25:43 UTC 4 years ago

It would be nice if you could get used to being shot in the head.

There's some twitching, but that's over pretty fast. So much for his glorious comeback.