A Brand-Old Car!!

[carduinal-cyn]

(Olivia del Rio continued from Dire, Dire Straits.)

The night was young, but the sun had long since set on Olivia's chance to fire her crossbow.

Instead of letting her stick it to that stupid boomer, apparently Lucia thought it was a good idea to march them straight into the heart of a sprawling ferry. "Looking for Vasily", she'd said. If that wasn't the most half-assed excuse Olivia had ever heard for running away—into an endless hell of benches and rusting cars, no less!

Sequestered in this graveyard of mid-century American history, she wriggled free from the bigger girl's grip and glared up at her.

"What's your problem?" she complained. (It was the first time she'd spoken since they'd left Hailey behind.) "We had her right where we wanted her, and you blew it because... Vas's out there somewhere?"

Olivia's voice echoed more and more through the ferry's underbelly. "Seriously, are you kidding me? Don't you wanna win, Lucia? Don't you wanna make it outta here alive? 'Cause I dunno if you noticed, but five people are already gone! Next time? Could be him on the announcements, for all we know!"

Her face was flushed, her expression petulant and frightened all at once. A bead of sweat trickled down her brow. Little Joe quivered in her hand.

[ciphermitarai]

"This isn't the time to fight and you know that," Lucia said simply, keeping her face stone-cold. "Besides, I doubt he'll go down anytime soon. He's clever."

She stopped there, and let out a breath she'd been holding in. "... are you really ready to kill someone, Olivia? Are you really, really ready? We've barely been here a day, and besides, I think I know the answer to that question. And you yelling like that's gonna let everyone know we're here."

She looked back at Olivia, and stared at her hard. "We have to play things smart. Did you take the bolts with you? You can't waste a shot on someone like that if you have limited ammo." A little shiver passed through her body. "I'm trying not to be hesitant, Liv, I really am. But I worry about you, and what this place might do to you... ah, never mind, saying shit like that's a death flag."

She curled back into herself, more emotionally than physically. "I didn't want the standoff to last all night either, y'know? You've gotta rest. We can sleep in shifts or something. I just--you can't go on a huge kill spree with like five bolts."

[carduinal-cyn]

Olivia shut her eyes and steadied her breathing. She couldn't get this frazzled, not on the first night, not while Lucia was being so goddamn condescendingly calm. I think I know the answer to that question, she said. Who d'you think you are, my mom?

"You think I'm some stupid meathead with no nerve, huh?" Liv blustered. "You don't fucking know me... You know how many times they called 'unnecessary roughness' on my ass? It's 'cause I wanna win..." She trailed off and slumped against a beaten-up red '54 Corvette. "...god, I dunno about bolts, but you better stop that. Only people I need worried about me are mom and dad."

She yawned, lowered herself onto the floor like she owned the place, slipped her backpack straps off her arms. She needed to unwind, and she channeled what was left of her anger into sitting up ramrod-straight and stretching her legs as far as they'd go in front of her. Staff pose. A basic move (if one could call it that), but basic was all she could bother with now.

"I don't even know how many bolts I got, but..." She sighed. "Doesn't matter! I've wanted to check in this pack all day, now that I got an actual weapon. You think the food in here's any good, Luce? Might as well have dinner before... y'know. Tomorrow."

[ciphermitarai]

All Lucia could do was sigh. Sigh, and sigh, and sigh.
“Yeah, I guess that sounded a little pretentious, but, like, we’re teamed up for now. You should want me to worry about you, right? I mean...”

She slumped down too, the latest in a series of unfortunate events. An off-camera moment to be sure, which relieved her a bit; it was good to hear the presence of no others. At least she could say she’d made it that day without getting too hurt.

“Oh, and you’re not stupid. You were clever enough to pull whatever back on the yacht. I know. I’m a bit more perceptive than you might think, okay? I just—I acted on instinct or somethin’. I could feel something was about to go really, really wrong.”

She trailed off then, staring off into the distance like a lazy mirage had appeared somewhere. “I’m sure the food’s fine. Sorry I—I’ve been not up to your liking, like, I just didn’t want to hurt people more than I needed to. Alright?”

[carduinal-cyn]

Olivia was already rifling through the well-organized pack in such a way that ensured she'd never be able to fit it all back in again. When she finally discovered the rations, her nose wrinkled up. "Seriously? It's all a bunch of gross seafood," she whined. "Maybe the sandwich is edible, but..."

Now it was her turn to sigh. "...no use complaining about it," she admitted with a tired little smile. Then, she looked over her shoulder to face her genre-savvy ally. "And you've been fine, by the way. Great, even. Like, you could've just axed me right there, and you didn't! So... thanks for that."

As she spoke, she caught sight of Lucia's bandana, eliciting a little gasp. It was crimson-red; hers, white. "Wait, oh my god! Oh my god! We've been on different teams this entire time!?" She broke her staff pose and scooted back a foot or so, swivelling her whole body around to face Lucia. "Shit! We never called an official truce!" She laughed in spite of herself — how little these things matter until they do.

"...so, look! I know I'm, like, hyper-competitive, and loud, and maybe a huge pain in the ass, but... hey." Olivia had an expectant gleam in her eye as she held out her right hand; her crossbow lay carelessly on the floor, next to her thigh.

"You wanna shake on it for real? 'Cause I think we'd make an unbeatable team."

[ciphermitarai]

“It’s a deal, then.”

And Lucia smiled for the first true time as she shook Olivia’s hand.

“... Teams are gimmicky anyways. Really doubt that anyone’s gonna actually adhere to them, you know how it is.” After a right squeeze, she let it go in order to look through her own bag. “And I’m glad you think I’m alright. Wouldn’t be a great duo otherwise, y’know? And besides, I’ll try not to hold you back any more than I gotta.”

She started to rifle through her things, finding just about nothing different from Olivia’s. No surprise, of course, but at least if she kept going and kept herself distracted she wouldn’t have to worry about her mortality or whatever. Action girls don’t have time to worry about their morality, they just act. Was Olivia better than her at that?

“... Like I said, I don’t want to kill more than I’ve gotta, and you’re a good ally. Plus, I don’t think I could—“ She drew in a sharp breath. “I don’t know if I’m brave enough to really kill somebody. Fight them, for sure, it’d just take a bit. That’s something you don’t lack. Kinda jealous, in all honesty.”

[carduinal-cyn]

Olivia grinned as she gave the handshake a couple of pumps up and down; her grip was tight, but not quite tight enough to cause Lucia pain. As soon as she let go, she leaned back against the Corvette again, now only a foot or two from her new comrade-in-arms.

"You think you're gonna be holding me back?" she asked, now sporting a rather bemused smile as she watched Lucia unpack. The girl who was rattling off all that fancy English-teacher lingo, the girl talking like she'd played the game before, the girl with the chiselled muscle thought she'd be holding Olivia back? No way in hell, she thought, but she sit back and briefly let her lips stretch out from "bemused" to "smug" as she entertained the idea anyway.

"Oh, you think I don't have that problem?" she half-drawled, half-yawned. "I coulda shot that crate guy... 'You ladies', what century's he think this is? But nah... couldn't do it." She rocked her head from side to side very slowly, her eyelids achingly heavy. "God, I'm exhausted. You think we could sleep in one of these old cars, or what?"

[ciphermitarai]

“Well, yeah, I mean... but there was a gun, so I get that. I guess I’ll just have to get over myself next time, you know?” she continued, picking up her things. Even if what she said made her shudder, she had no choice to accept it.

“And yeah, that’d probably work, I mean, ‘s better than being out in the open anyways. Scoring free kills and whatnot.” She tried to ignore the way her blood ran cold once again, and this time, it actually seemed to help out a little bit, this time sad but unsurprising.

Lucia hoisted her stuff up and climbed into one of the cars, taking care not to put the cleaver in a dangerous position. Metal scraped against her arms, but thankfully there was at least a small space where she could curl up and rest.

“This one’s good, right?” she called out, her voice lined with a groggy croak. “It doesn’t look like it’s gonna fall apart.”

[carduinal-cyn]

"Yeahhhh... 's good, 's fine," came Olivia's only reply. Her brain ached dully. She could barely keep her eyes open. Hazily, she picked up the white clothes she'd strewn all around her and smushed them into a haphazard ball, which she tried to push back inside with all the might left in her arms.

Following the sound of Lucia's voice, she stumbled over to the black 1954 Chrysler Imperial with an almost zombielike gait. When she arrived, she placed her crossbow-toting right hand on top of the trunk. Her left hand reached out sleepily toward the closed window. Her eyes snapped open for a moment as her fingers closed not around a door handle, but the cold smoothness of glass. She quickly realized her mistake, and she pulled herself inside.

Shutting the door and settling into the leathery blue backseat, Olivia opened her mouth wide and let out a quiet yawn. "Uh-huh... looks safe to me," she murmured. The girl looked mere inches from dreamland already. Her head threatened to nod off at any moment, and her normal chirrupy voice was now little more than a soft, sleepy whisper.

[ciphermitarai]

“Well, night then, Liv.”

Lucia curled up as best as she could, trying to will her heart to calm down. Every few moments came a lurch, an urge to look around, a need to know everything about the newest skittering, inconsequential noise. And really, who could blame her? She didn’t want to die.

But still, she remembered, this might be the last chance she had. Can’t survive on no rest, as it is. And so, eventually, she drifted off into restless sleep.

[carduinal-cyn]

"Night," Olivia mumbled, lowering her head down onto the leather.

Without blankets to snuggle under, without Holly's twittering, squawking, comforting presence, the curtains of sleepy delirium parted long enough to deny Liv her rest. Yet she refused to open her eyes. Instead, she tossed and turned as much as was humanly possible to do atop the back seat of a car. Over the course of an hour, she narrowly avoided kicking Lucia five times. (Hopefully some permutation of arms and legs and head would work, right?)

As she put Lucia's chances of a good night's sleep into jeopardy, her thoughts circled the outside world time and time again.

Tomorrow, we're gonna find Vas.

And if he's there, we're gonna find RJ, too... Bet he didn't have to steal his weapon, at least. I hope he's OK.

But, hey. The four of us all lasted a day. And there's 60-something other people here, I bet. How hard could it be to last through tomorrow?

I got real lucky, at least. Lucia's smart. I still gotta ask her what a trope is...

Stupid word, "trope". It's like "troop" and "grope" all mashed up.

Bet that's gonna be the newest Girl Scout cookie. Do-si-dos, Tagalongs, Trefoils, Tropes... Yeah, that works. Bet it's apple flavor, 'cause it's an English teacher word. Apple cookies... Maybe apple cinnamon...

That night, she dreamt that Lucia came to her door in a Girl Scout uniform, offering her a box of crunchy red cookies with little "worms" poking out. They ate together in her room, laughing and talking about school while Holly flapped her wings overhead. An army of robots—wearing bandanas of every color that existed and a few that did not—burst through the door, but Olivia's smile never wavered.

She shot them down coolly, one by one, with a crossbow that never ran out of bolts.

(Olivia del Rio continued in Retrograde Analysis.)