Timing was key, especially out in the desert. Sure, hours or days or weeks could pass without even the flicker of a distant rock lizard, but when things did happen, they happened fast. Mere seconds could be the difference between success and failure. In the shadows of a second story ruin, at the very threshold of a doorway that opened onto the leaning skeleton of a fire escape, Vico was poised. It wasn’t the best hiding spot, perhaps, but with the glare of the afternoon sun anyone outside would see only blackness where he stood with knees bent. Footsteps approached in the alley below, quiet and measured on the dirt and cracked pavement. Their owner moved lightly, and kept close to the wall. Thirty feet away…..
Twenty….
Ten…
Reaching up to grip the frame of the empty doorway, Vico swung his leg out and brought it slamming down onto the fragile fire escape landing. With a horrific screeching of rusted and acid-eaten iron, the platform partially gave way, tipping sharply downward and spilling a three-foot-deep pile of sand directly onto the figure passing below.
“What the fuck- VICO-!”
“Ey, ah, Draculoid Silvas, is that you?” Crouched easily on the sheer edge of the floor, Vico spoke into his radio with an exaggerated New Yorker accent. “You’s, ah, gotta be mo’ careful, theah, bud.”
Solidly dusted pale tan by the sand which he’d roughly shaken from his clothing and hair as best he could, Marcos shaded his eyes as he scowled up at Vico. “I could have shot you, you fucking idiot! Why can’t you just do your goddamn job??”
“Now that’s no way to speak to your superior,” Vico admonished him, letting the accent drop. “Besides, I am doing my job. This whole row of foundations is intact, and the buildings are clear for the wiring team to do their inspection.” He stood up straight, feet apart, and spread his arms dramatically. “Just because I have a little flair, a little pizzazz-“
“-you’re not my superior-“
“-a little sense of the showbiz, doesn’t mean I can’t do my civic duty, Silvas.” And with a snappy motion he brushed off first one sleeve and then the other, straightened his jacket hem, and tipped an imaginary cap down at Marcos, who flipped him off emphatically with the hand not resting on his gun. As Vico strolled off to find an entry into the next adjoining building, he began to whistle.
I swear it’s around here somewhere...”
Ghoul said to himself as he rode across the on going desert scenes from route Guano. It had been a while since he had made his way out and about in the desert, the radiation deteriorating his health at a more rapid pace than he had hoped. Regardless, that was no excuse for just giving up and dying, there was still much more to do before the sands could claim him one final time. way too much more.
After what felt like hours Ghoul shut off his bike and looked around. Could he really be this lost out here, how far could he really be from The Gallows at this ‘point. He was hoping to have been spotted by now but maybe the time out here was catching up with everyone.
“Fuck....”
He mumbled to himself as he scratched his head looking both direction before pulling the handkerchief from his face. He felt completely lost now, thinking he should double back and see if he couldn’t find the Diner.
