Covenant: Let the right ones in!
Undisclosed location, Continental United States:
A young man's eyes move unfailingly from the paperwork placed carefully next to the enclosed audio recorder sealed against tampering. Those drooping drug addled eyes find their way across the white walls to the clear Plexiglas doors of the expansive cell that houses all his biological needs.
He bores a hole through the back of the guards head, it only takes moments for the guard to turn from his place of station sitting just beyond the clear front of the young man's cell. "What is this time Jello Jeans"? "Time for me to call the nurse again"?
The distempered mongoloid has been calling the cells only occupant "Jello Jeans" ever since his arrival and subsequent medication induced "auto ejection" of bodily waste. On top of being taken away in an unmarked vehicle, beyond the embarrassing conditions of his unlawful imprisonment and the stark unsolicited restraints and conditions placed on his continued "survival". Being guarded by a mental midget was something a man once regarded as a super hero and someone of great scientific importance seemed an all too fitting irony to the end of Paradox 555's career.
The forth coming knowledge that outside of a frustrated psychiatrist who walks away from this cell just as confused as he enters once a week, and the continued poking and prodding by an endless team of government and agency run "doctors". The only steady company "one of the smartest minds on earth" would receive is the endless sports banter and base bullying of a man who has never managed to rise about the station of "security guard" given his entire life.
A month into this endless daily process has furnished the young crippled man with an unfailing belief in two things. 1. His new found "keepers" obviously tend to keep him like this for the rest of his years and 2. Escape on his own given his circumstances and physical limitations is rather hopeless.
All of that is behind the young man we see before us, he can afford to forget the unfortunate things that have befallen him as of late. This young man has a visitor coming today, right now as a matter of fact, this very old friend will be a pleasant sight and a few fleeting moments of useful human interaction will follow. Regardless of their likely upsetting outcome, this young man is as pleased in appearance as his physical form and medication will allow.
"Well, out with it Jello Jeans, I don't have all day". As a matter of fact you do you mentally retarded ogre! "I believe you'll be wanting to go down the hall and check for an incoming visitor in the next few seconds".
"Wha...". The heavyset "special detail" officer starts to say through the Plexiglas wall. The loud blast of the intercom system blares to life announcing a visitor waiting for "Detainee 7". The over priced security guard grumbles at his charge and at the idea of launching his mass out from under his comfortable desk with the small portable T.v.
"Who the hell would come to "visit" you anyway" the heavy set man mutters as he stammers off in the direction of the only known exit from this place. The young crippled man has enough time to wonder what the area just beyond the edge of his cell might look like, he also wonders at the importance of being labeled "Detainee 7"? His ego in some ways equally proportioned to his intellect wonders at who could be Detainee's 1-6? The sounds of two sets of foot falls shatters these thoughts like thin glass.
Before the guard is even in full view the young man's voice modulator cracks to life.
"David, how very good it is of you to drop by".
The guard stops an average looking man before opening the set of glass doors. "Sir, did they run you through the protocols"?
"Yes of course agent".
"Very well, you wont mind submitting to a second search for contraband items then"?
"Go right on ahead agent". "Jameson isn't it"?
"Yes sir, now please remove your coat and place your arms out towards the hallway".
The heavy set guard goes about doing a thorough search of the average looking man, before settling back into his comfortable chair behind his comfortable desk.
"I'll buzz you in, just remember for classification purposes the recorder on the table stays on and I'll be privy to the conversation via the intercom here".
"Very good Agent Jameson".
The Average looking man enters after the short interim of the doors klaxons firing.
"Very Hannibal Lecter of you Kiddo, calling me out like that before you even saw me". "My motives that easy to read eh"?
"Not at all David, I never would have assumed you'd have seen fit to call in such out of the way talent that night, nor could I have foreseen it being you who had the agency waiting for me after it all".
"Flattered Kiddo, but I'm not you, not everything is thought out four steps ahead with me". "Believe it or not I never called a soul, and I wasn't the one who invited the special cargo unit reunion".
"You forgive me David if I don't believe a word of it".
"Be as angry as you want to be Kiddo, one way or another I warned you about this". "I told you in your lab that night, followed with another warning in that e-mail". "Killing all those relatives of the Sadists is one thing, fucking with national security is quite another".
"Why should America have all the fun David"? "I simply preempted the loss of even more human lives and resources".
"How"? "By forcing us out of the country"? "By giving China a technical hand up that is going to turn the entire middle east into a communist blanket"?
"Yes David, that...just that". "We'd never have ended the problems there, in all these years, in all these "reoccupations" what had America accomplished"? "Nothing David, that's what". "I solved a problem and ended this governments worry as to who we'll be "liberating" tomorrow".
"Oh..."?
"Yes, the answer is simple, no one". "We will now have time to stop the unwarranted pushing of our own decadent values on the rest of the world, or at least the parts of it we feel guilty about or can profit from".
"So your answer to us being unpopular and stemming the tide of our material and personal American loses over seas was to launch us head long into another cold war"?
"Only spooks died in the cold war David, and as you know, no one misses a spook".
"Enough of this Kiddo". "Give them what they want and you could be moved to some place with a view, a view and maybe even a new job". "Something where you can go back to helping people".
"Ah, the real reason for this visit, going to ham hand it to me this early"? "Having somewhere else to go, some crimes to fight in your outfit"?
"Stop it Shane, enough with the incrimination, the fucking paranoia all I've ever done was try to avoid this sort of thing, to stop you and all of the people like us from being killed or locked up like this".
"Bang up job David".
"Fuck you AND point taken, round one goes to the smart kid with the voice box". "I came to see you, of course I told them I'd try to get you to give them the technology you gave the Chinese and then some". "I even brokered a deal to get you into your old job in the process, working in base with guards of course". "A bullshit deal I know you will NEVER take anyway, but I tried Kiddo, I really did, all of that just to see you, probably for the last time".
"Of course for the last time David". "They'll never let me near a computer ever again after what I've done to their national pride not to mention the unfortunate actions of Barlev".
"Still not taking any responsibility for that I see"?
"Responsibility for what David"? "Being insane with grief and being naive and young...stupid even". "Sure David, I am guilty as charged". "I am not a cold blooded conspirator in the torture and murder of those people David".
"By any means necessary...that's how that e-mail ended don't insult my intelligence Kiddo, you asked him to eliminate those people." "Innocent people, and for what...your grief over her"?
"We're not talking about this".
"Just like that huh, nothing more to say huh"?
"I do have something else to say David". "Simply put I knew I was riding a fence, a moral and ethical fence I saw a good friend of mine ride for the sake of my revenge". "I take a page form the Covenant play book and you...people like you used that paper to set me ablaze in the living flesh".
"Oh the super hero martyr is it now"? "You don't have the physique for statues kiddo".
"You know what they have me doing now David"?
"No Kiddo, I don't...want to tell me".
"Gladly". The young crippled man reaches out with one feeble arm and pushes a stack of papers to the average man seated on the other side of the table. The papers are examined briefly before the average man sighs and slides them back.
"What did you expect them to do Kiddo, have you learn to finger paint"?
"It would be less painful David, for the sake of god"! "They have me evaluating Barlev, the piece of filth you captured, all the one's we put away as the Covenant". "I'm in an itinerant hell of psychologically profiling fuckign SUPER VILLAINS"!
"No offense kiddo, you built the wheelchair access to that itinerant hell by hiring this Barlev creature to do what he did".
"I'm done explaining my innocence of his actions to you David". "I'm to be labeled a Super Villain now, if I was loose I'd be on that new list they're handing out to all the new "super heroes". "I guess I should begin asking accordingly".
"Don't go down that road kiddo, please, for her, for us". "Just give them what they want as far as the technical details, least bring them up to speed, give us a fighting chance if China starts looking fondly across the ocean, I'll see about getting you that deal okay"?
"Okay Kiddo"?
"Don't speak about her, don't even presume to use her memory to draw me back into a life of being this tyrannical governments watch dog". "As a matter of fact David, get out of this cell and don't come back".
"If that's the way you want it, take it easy Kiddo, they know how to reach me if anything changes your mind".
"Nothing will David".
"Farewell then kiddo, anything you want me to pass on to your "other old friends"?
"I'll see them soon enough".
The stone pits of the young man's eyes settle in on those of the average man. Before standing to leave the room the crippled usually motionless face of the young man builds into a stroke victim parody of smiling. The average man for the first time in a very long time finds himself unsettled. Is it the smile, or the idea that he thinks he'll be seeing anyone else anytime soon?
Baracoa, Cuba:
"What the FUCK DO YOU MEAN HE'S GONE"!
The mountainous frame of a man screams down the hallway of the warehouse.
"Come on guys, please no yelling, it's my fault okay, I should have been watching him, I just figured the cell was good enough so I stepped outside for some air".
"Fuck that Hanna, you're not taking the hit for this shit". "The fucking junkie was watching the other junkie that's what happened".
The punk leaning against the open cell door looks beyond to the empty wall, his black soulless eyes unable or refusing to engage their attacker.
"No big boy, come on now, I sent Randall back to bed, I took the watch, it was all me".
"How's it feel to have your girlfriend throw herself in front of a bus for you huh"? "You junkie lunatic fuck". "ANSWER ME DAMMIT"!
"It feels great". The punk murmurs to no one in particular.
"WHAT"? "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY"?
The punk pushes him self to his feet using the wall as a ladder. He pivots facing the love of his life standing firmly in between him and the self righteous drunk dick head who was once his partner in fighting crime.
"I said IF FEELS GREAT"!
Big boy begins stalking down the hall towards the physical confrontation that has been brewing for years now.
"No, no not like this guys, Big Boy you're going to have to hurt me to get to him, do you understand me". "BIG BOY...STOP"!
She stands with her arms pressed against his stomach, he has to look down just to see her, her slim figure is doing everything it can to halt his progress, the futility of the action as well as the ocean of emotions fueling it stop him...for now.
"Congratulations you useless fuck, she just saved you from getting drug back and forth across this fucking floor on your face".
"Hanna, step out of the way baby, if the self righteous fuck wants it bad enough he can come get it".
She feels a renewed level of determination under the wall of muscles she has her hands firmly planted against.
"SHUT UP RANDALL"!
Big boy brushes her hands away and stamps away from the scene, out towards the beach most likely as she can tell.
She turns on her heels and heads towards the Sin Eater with a purpose just as determined as the man who had most certainly meant him physical harm.
"Please fucking tell me big boy ISN'T right"? "Please tell me you didn't pass out in the hall way high while the thing just picked its way out of here"?
Knowing that advancing on her in an attempt to disarm or beguile her isn't going to work the lunatic tool of god shoots for the next easiest thing.
"Sorry baby, I'm fairly certain that's exactly what happened".
"Oh great, just fucking great, so now there's no way to make Para pay for what he did, no witness no criminal to put in the right jails, nothing". "Was it at least a good high Randall"?
He looks somewhere between the floor and the fifth dimension waiting for her to get bored with yelling.
"Hmmm..."? "Nothing to say huh, you know what Randall sometimes, just sometimes...Big boy is right about you".
She stamps off most likely in the same direction as the self righteous drunk as far as the Cheshire punk can tell.
"There goes the Covenant, no glue for the bricks anymore", he whispers sadly under his breath. Neither of them will understand the deal that was made last night while they slept. Nor would they agree with the releasing of one devil to find another, to finally silence the ever present voice in his head. Her voice, the one that keeps him from sleep. The voice the keeps him from going forward, a voice that seems to get louder as the days go by.
They would condemn the actions of necessity to feed their own sense of right. Their own selfish balances of what is fair and what is balanced. A man who punishes the wicked by the mandate of God can't afford to play on the high ground. Something none of them ever understood. Time for severance, time for reciprocity. Time to put the voice of lady justice to bed once and for all. To let her soul lay silent in the knowledge that what was done to her will be righted by the actions of his blade, and the seeing of things.
Plenty of time to put the green gangle back in a padded cell when he's done doing what he's been asked to do. One more job, one more bit of excitement. Anyway, there is no amount of God's justice that would right the thing in the neon green outfit. Another thing the Sin Eater could never explain to either of them. Better they hate him than despise him even more for doing his job.
He hears their distant voices as he packs up a small back pack with personal needs and a change of clothes. They both look stunned like lovers caught entwining in a public park when the punk comes walking out of the warehouse luggage in hand.
"Randall, what are you doing"?
The punk with out getting any closer to either one of them talks in the direction of the mountainous man in the tourist clothes.
"Hey Big boy, do me a favor and run the fort with Hanna here okay"?
The big man's former anger and indignation vanish, he does the usual about face with his old partner that he always does eventually no matter what the problem.
"Uh....sure thing SE, where the hell you going"?
"Business state side". The Cheshire punk points to his head while saying the words.
"Just going to run out on me, figuring I was giving up on us"?
She's already crying in spite of her attempts to flush the tears away before they come flushing out. She's over stepping her own stride trying to make it to him as he's walking away towards the parking lot.
"Not you baby, not me either, just work".
She lunges at him/too him. Her chest heaves with hiccup sensations. "Please don't leave Randall, please...I'm sorry, please". She whispers into his ear. The physically unsettling view of them kissing tenderly sets the big man to doing something somewhere else.
"Said it wasn't you baby, when have I lied to you"?
"Never".
"There you go, just have to get a voice out of my head".
"Hers"?
"Can't lie to you".
She tells him to be careful as he continues to walk away.
"What am I going to do in this dump with out you"? She yells as he's making progress towards the parked car.
The Cheshire punk points to the east out to the Atlantic ocean, a massive vista of dark clouds clot the sky a great distance away. "Storms coming baby, big one, get big boy looking for thief, gonna need him soon I think".
She waves in acknowledgment and jogs back towards the warehouse.
"Can't be by your side for this one old man, got my own fish to fry" the punk says to himself as he takes one more long look at the dark mass of clouds to the east.
T.V. on the Radio:
Ambulance
Your slim frame
Your eager eyes
And your wild mane
Oh they keep me where I belong
All wrapped up in wrong
You're to blame
For wasted words of sad refrain
Oh let them take me where they may
Believe me when I say
Oh I will be your accident
If you will be my ambulance
I will be your screech and crash if you will be my crutch and cast
I will be your one more time if you will be my one last chance
So fall for me
Your slime frame
Your simple stare
And your wrong wrong name
They keep me where I belong
All strung out in song
While I so tamed
Where we can shoot other vines through your good name
Sip sweet from nights deep wells
And watch are garden swim as our seeds are soaked
While overgrown
You will see
Hearts colors change like leaves
Oh sweet sweet dream fall for me
Fall fast fall free fall for me
Because
Oh I will be your ambulance
If you will be my accident
I will be your screech and crash if you will be my crutch and cast
And I will be your one more time if you will be my one last chance
So sweet dream fall with me
Fall fast fall free fall with me
Undisclosed location, Continental United States:
A young man's eyes move unfailingly from the paperwork placed carefully next to the enclosed audio recorder sealed against tampering. Those drooping drug addled eyes find their way across the white walls to the clear Plexiglas doors of the expansive cell that houses all his biological needs.
He bores a hole through the back of the guards head, it only takes moments for the guard to turn from his place of station sitting just beyond the clear front of the young man's cell. "What is this time Jello Jeans"? "Time for me to call the nurse again"?
The distempered mongoloid has been calling the cells only occupant "Jello Jeans" ever since his arrival and subsequent medication induced "auto ejection" of bodily waste. On top of being taken away in an unmarked vehicle, beyond the embarrassing conditions of his unlawful imprisonment and the stark unsolicited restraints and conditions placed on his continued "survival". Being guarded by a mental midget was something a man once regarded as a super hero and someone of great scientific importance seemed an all too fitting irony to the end of Paradox 555's career.
The forth coming knowledge that outside of a frustrated psychiatrist who walks away from this cell just as confused as he enters once a week, and the continued poking and prodding by an endless team of government and agency run "doctors". The only steady company "one of the smartest minds on earth" would receive is the endless sports banter and base bullying of a man who has never managed to rise about the station of "security guard" given his entire life.
A month into this endless daily process has furnished the young crippled man with an unfailing belief in two things. 1. His new found "keepers" obviously tend to keep him like this for the rest of his years and 2. Escape on his own given his circumstances and physical limitations is rather hopeless.
All of that is behind the young man we see before us, he can afford to forget the unfortunate things that have befallen him as of late. This young man has a visitor coming today, right now as a matter of fact, this very old friend will be a pleasant sight and a few fleeting moments of useful human interaction will follow. Regardless of their likely upsetting outcome, this young man is as pleased in appearance as his physical form and medication will allow.
"Well, out with it Jello Jeans, I don't have all day". As a matter of fact you do you mentally retarded ogre! "I believe you'll be wanting to go down the hall and check for an incoming visitor in the next few seconds".
"Wha...". The heavyset "special detail" officer starts to say through the Plexiglas wall. The loud blast of the intercom system blares to life announcing a visitor waiting for "Detainee 7". The over priced security guard grumbles at his charge and at the idea of launching his mass out from under his comfortable desk with the small portable T.v.
"Who the hell would come to "visit" you anyway" the heavy set man mutters as he stammers off in the direction of the only known exit from this place. The young crippled man has enough time to wonder what the area just beyond the edge of his cell might look like, he also wonders at the importance of being labeled "Detainee 7"? His ego in some ways equally proportioned to his intellect wonders at who could be Detainee's 1-6? The sounds of two sets of foot falls shatters these thoughts like thin glass.
Before the guard is even in full view the young man's voice modulator cracks to life.
"David, how very good it is of you to drop by".
The guard stops an average looking man before opening the set of glass doors. "Sir, did they run you through the protocols"?
"Yes of course agent".
"Very well, you wont mind submitting to a second search for contraband items then"?
"Go right on ahead agent". "Jameson isn't it"?
"Yes sir, now please remove your coat and place your arms out towards the hallway".
The heavy set guard goes about doing a thorough search of the average looking man, before settling back into his comfortable chair behind his comfortable desk.
"I'll buzz you in, just remember for classification purposes the recorder on the table stays on and I'll be privy to the conversation via the intercom here".
"Very good Agent Jameson".
The Average looking man enters after the short interim of the doors klaxons firing.
"Very Hannibal Lecter of you Kiddo, calling me out like that before you even saw me". "My motives that easy to read eh"?
"Not at all David, I never would have assumed you'd have seen fit to call in such out of the way talent that night, nor could I have foreseen it being you who had the agency waiting for me after it all".
"Flattered Kiddo, but I'm not you, not everything is thought out four steps ahead with me". "Believe it or not I never called a soul, and I wasn't the one who invited the special cargo unit reunion".
"You forgive me David if I don't believe a word of it".
"Be as angry as you want to be Kiddo, one way or another I warned you about this". "I told you in your lab that night, followed with another warning in that e-mail". "Killing all those relatives of the Sadists is one thing, fucking with national security is quite another".
"Why should America have all the fun David"? "I simply preempted the loss of even more human lives and resources".
"How"? "By forcing us out of the country"? "By giving China a technical hand up that is going to turn the entire middle east into a communist blanket"?
"Yes David, that...just that". "We'd never have ended the problems there, in all these years, in all these "reoccupations" what had America accomplished"? "Nothing David, that's what". "I solved a problem and ended this governments worry as to who we'll be "liberating" tomorrow".
"Oh..."?
"Yes, the answer is simple, no one". "We will now have time to stop the unwarranted pushing of our own decadent values on the rest of the world, or at least the parts of it we feel guilty about or can profit from".
"So your answer to us being unpopular and stemming the tide of our material and personal American loses over seas was to launch us head long into another cold war"?
"Only spooks died in the cold war David, and as you know, no one misses a spook".
"Enough of this Kiddo". "Give them what they want and you could be moved to some place with a view, a view and maybe even a new job". "Something where you can go back to helping people".
"Ah, the real reason for this visit, going to ham hand it to me this early"? "Having somewhere else to go, some crimes to fight in your outfit"?
"Stop it Shane, enough with the incrimination, the fucking paranoia all I've ever done was try to avoid this sort of thing, to stop you and all of the people like us from being killed or locked up like this".
"Bang up job David".
"Fuck you AND point taken, round one goes to the smart kid with the voice box". "I came to see you, of course I told them I'd try to get you to give them the technology you gave the Chinese and then some". "I even brokered a deal to get you into your old job in the process, working in base with guards of course". "A bullshit deal I know you will NEVER take anyway, but I tried Kiddo, I really did, all of that just to see you, probably for the last time".
"Of course for the last time David". "They'll never let me near a computer ever again after what I've done to their national pride not to mention the unfortunate actions of Barlev".
"Still not taking any responsibility for that I see"?
"Responsibility for what David"? "Being insane with grief and being naive and young...stupid even". "Sure David, I am guilty as charged". "I am not a cold blooded conspirator in the torture and murder of those people David".
"By any means necessary...that's how that e-mail ended don't insult my intelligence Kiddo, you asked him to eliminate those people." "Innocent people, and for what...your grief over her"?
"We're not talking about this".
"Just like that huh, nothing more to say huh"?
"I do have something else to say David". "Simply put I knew I was riding a fence, a moral and ethical fence I saw a good friend of mine ride for the sake of my revenge". "I take a page form the Covenant play book and you...people like you used that paper to set me ablaze in the living flesh".
"Oh the super hero martyr is it now"? "You don't have the physique for statues kiddo".
"You know what they have me doing now David"?
"No Kiddo, I don't...want to tell me".
"Gladly". The young crippled man reaches out with one feeble arm and pushes a stack of papers to the average man seated on the other side of the table. The papers are examined briefly before the average man sighs and slides them back.
"What did you expect them to do Kiddo, have you learn to finger paint"?
"It would be less painful David, for the sake of god"! "They have me evaluating Barlev, the piece of filth you captured, all the one's we put away as the Covenant". "I'm in an itinerant hell of psychologically profiling fuckign SUPER VILLAINS"!
"No offense kiddo, you built the wheelchair access to that itinerant hell by hiring this Barlev creature to do what he did".
"I'm done explaining my innocence of his actions to you David". "I'm to be labeled a Super Villain now, if I was loose I'd be on that new list they're handing out to all the new "super heroes". "I guess I should begin asking accordingly".
"Don't go down that road kiddo, please, for her, for us". "Just give them what they want as far as the technical details, least bring them up to speed, give us a fighting chance if China starts looking fondly across the ocean, I'll see about getting you that deal okay"?
"Okay Kiddo"?
"Don't speak about her, don't even presume to use her memory to draw me back into a life of being this tyrannical governments watch dog". "As a matter of fact David, get out of this cell and don't come back".
"If that's the way you want it, take it easy Kiddo, they know how to reach me if anything changes your mind".
"Nothing will David".
"Farewell then kiddo, anything you want me to pass on to your "other old friends"?
"I'll see them soon enough".
The stone pits of the young man's eyes settle in on those of the average man. Before standing to leave the room the crippled usually motionless face of the young man builds into a stroke victim parody of smiling. The average man for the first time in a very long time finds himself unsettled. Is it the smile, or the idea that he thinks he'll be seeing anyone else anytime soon?
Baracoa, Cuba:
"What the FUCK DO YOU MEAN HE'S GONE"!
The mountainous frame of a man screams down the hallway of the warehouse.
"Come on guys, please no yelling, it's my fault okay, I should have been watching him, I just figured the cell was good enough so I stepped outside for some air".
"Fuck that Hanna, you're not taking the hit for this shit". "The fucking junkie was watching the other junkie that's what happened".
The punk leaning against the open cell door looks beyond to the empty wall, his black soulless eyes unable or refusing to engage their attacker.
"No big boy, come on now, I sent Randall back to bed, I took the watch, it was all me".
"How's it feel to have your girlfriend throw herself in front of a bus for you huh"? "You junkie lunatic fuck". "ANSWER ME DAMMIT"!
"It feels great". The punk murmurs to no one in particular.
"WHAT"? "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY"?
The punk pushes him self to his feet using the wall as a ladder. He pivots facing the love of his life standing firmly in between him and the self righteous drunk dick head who was once his partner in fighting crime.
"I said IF FEELS GREAT"!
Big boy begins stalking down the hall towards the physical confrontation that has been brewing for years now.
"No, no not like this guys, Big Boy you're going to have to hurt me to get to him, do you understand me". "BIG BOY...STOP"!
She stands with her arms pressed against his stomach, he has to look down just to see her, her slim figure is doing everything it can to halt his progress, the futility of the action as well as the ocean of emotions fueling it stop him...for now.
"Congratulations you useless fuck, she just saved you from getting drug back and forth across this fucking floor on your face".
"Hanna, step out of the way baby, if the self righteous fuck wants it bad enough he can come get it".
She feels a renewed level of determination under the wall of muscles she has her hands firmly planted against.
"SHUT UP RANDALL"!
Big boy brushes her hands away and stamps away from the scene, out towards the beach most likely as she can tell.
She turns on her heels and heads towards the Sin Eater with a purpose just as determined as the man who had most certainly meant him physical harm.
"Please fucking tell me big boy ISN'T right"? "Please tell me you didn't pass out in the hall way high while the thing just picked its way out of here"?
Knowing that advancing on her in an attempt to disarm or beguile her isn't going to work the lunatic tool of god shoots for the next easiest thing.
"Sorry baby, I'm fairly certain that's exactly what happened".
"Oh great, just fucking great, so now there's no way to make Para pay for what he did, no witness no criminal to put in the right jails, nothing". "Was it at least a good high Randall"?
He looks somewhere between the floor and the fifth dimension waiting for her to get bored with yelling.
"Hmmm..."? "Nothing to say huh, you know what Randall sometimes, just sometimes...Big boy is right about you".
She stamps off most likely in the same direction as the self righteous drunk as far as the Cheshire punk can tell.
"There goes the Covenant, no glue for the bricks anymore", he whispers sadly under his breath. Neither of them will understand the deal that was made last night while they slept. Nor would they agree with the releasing of one devil to find another, to finally silence the ever present voice in his head. Her voice, the one that keeps him from sleep. The voice the keeps him from going forward, a voice that seems to get louder as the days go by.
They would condemn the actions of necessity to feed their own sense of right. Their own selfish balances of what is fair and what is balanced. A man who punishes the wicked by the mandate of God can't afford to play on the high ground. Something none of them ever understood. Time for severance, time for reciprocity. Time to put the voice of lady justice to bed once and for all. To let her soul lay silent in the knowledge that what was done to her will be righted by the actions of his blade, and the seeing of things.
Plenty of time to put the green gangle back in a padded cell when he's done doing what he's been asked to do. One more job, one more bit of excitement. Anyway, there is no amount of God's justice that would right the thing in the neon green outfit. Another thing the Sin Eater could never explain to either of them. Better they hate him than despise him even more for doing his job.
He hears their distant voices as he packs up a small back pack with personal needs and a change of clothes. They both look stunned like lovers caught entwining in a public park when the punk comes walking out of the warehouse luggage in hand.
"Randall, what are you doing"?
The punk with out getting any closer to either one of them talks in the direction of the mountainous man in the tourist clothes.
"Hey Big boy, do me a favor and run the fort with Hanna here okay"?
The big man's former anger and indignation vanish, he does the usual about face with his old partner that he always does eventually no matter what the problem.
"Uh....sure thing SE, where the hell you going"?
"Business state side". The Cheshire punk points to his head while saying the words.
"Just going to run out on me, figuring I was giving up on us"?
She's already crying in spite of her attempts to flush the tears away before they come flushing out. She's over stepping her own stride trying to make it to him as he's walking away towards the parking lot.
"Not you baby, not me either, just work".
She lunges at him/too him. Her chest heaves with hiccup sensations. "Please don't leave Randall, please...I'm sorry, please". She whispers into his ear. The physically unsettling view of them kissing tenderly sets the big man to doing something somewhere else.
"Said it wasn't you baby, when have I lied to you"?
"Never".
"There you go, just have to get a voice out of my head".
"Hers"?
"Can't lie to you".
She tells him to be careful as he continues to walk away.
"What am I going to do in this dump with out you"? She yells as he's making progress towards the parked car.
The Cheshire punk points to the east out to the Atlantic ocean, a massive vista of dark clouds clot the sky a great distance away. "Storms coming baby, big one, get big boy looking for thief, gonna need him soon I think".
She waves in acknowledgment and jogs back towards the warehouse.
"Can't be by your side for this one old man, got my own fish to fry" the punk says to himself as he takes one more long look at the dark mass of clouds to the east.
T.V. on the Radio:
Ambulance
Your slim frame
Your eager eyes
And your wild mane
Oh they keep me where I belong
All wrapped up in wrong
You're to blame
For wasted words of sad refrain
Oh let them take me where they may
Believe me when I say
Oh I will be your accident
If you will be my ambulance
I will be your screech and crash if you will be my crutch and cast
I will be your one more time if you will be my one last chance
So fall for me
Your slime frame
Your simple stare
And your wrong wrong name
They keep me where I belong
All strung out in song
While I so tamed
Where we can shoot other vines through your good name
Sip sweet from nights deep wells
And watch are garden swim as our seeds are soaked
While overgrown
You will see
Hearts colors change like leaves
Oh sweet sweet dream fall for me
Fall fast fall free fall for me
Because
Oh I will be your ambulance
If you will be my accident
I will be your screech and crash if you will be my crutch and cast
And I will be your one more time if you will be my one last chance
So sweet dream fall with me
Fall fast fall free fall with me
and now that i've disposed of that thought to you,
i'm going to read this seemingly marvelous blog you have here and will be back to comment some more.