deadeyedrifterâ:
Lex didnât even hear the end of that sentence, drowned out by the rush of blood in his ears. With a bestial howl, he launched himself at the man, fully intend on bashing the fucker in the side of the head with his makeshift weapon.
Somewhere, deep down in the subconscious part of his brain, he knew he heard a gunshot. But that was before the plank came down, and after that, all he cared about was beating this pervert into submission. Â
-
Across the water, on the steps to the monument, Rick had stopped a caravan hand to ask where the fuck the rough-looking kid had gone, since theyâd agreed heâd help lug a couple of crates of beer between the warehouse and Savoldiâs bar.
âWhat do you mean, he stormed off iââŚâ A distant gunshot cut him off. âGoddammit.â
Fuck! He missed, goddammit, he fucking missed! In instinctively recoiling from that plank, his aim was off â he saw blood, he knew heâd hit, but that kid was still coming at him like a goddamn rabid radstag.
Then the plank hit anyway. At least he managed to catch most of the first blow with his arm, but the second sent his teeth rattling, made him see stars. He reeled back before trying to give him a shove, reaching for whatever makeshift weapon was closest until he could make some room and get another shot -
The lantern. He grabbed it by the handle and whipped it towards that snarling mug, trying all the while to get out from the stairway landing, past the kid. But he couldnât put his back to him, couldnât train a decent shot with trying to avoid that fucking plank, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
















