"No, I put it in his knee," she replies, hefting her backpack over her shoulder and heading out of the Brew, emerging from the mirror on the other side. She glances outside of the bathroom but stays inside, leaning against the wall. "Larry showed up and I booked it."
"So he ain't dead, and Larry saw you, but neither have come after you.
Larry's gonna take him to the infirmary, and I'm gonna come pick you up.
Alright?"
“Yeah, I found that after,” she replies. “He looks so close. In the early stages, Infected look so much like that, the fucked up eyes, the skin... they don’t start getting big fronds until a year or two.”
It occurs to her that she’s never shown one to Arthur, but it’s fine. She knows what she’s talking about.
"No kidding." She figures if she ever meets the Admiral, it's on sight. "He looks disgusting, even if didn't get worse, I'd rather get shot than look like that."
"Well, now he's both shot and ugly as hell," Arthur says,
pragmatically. It's likely not very nice of them to say all of this; he
doesn't give a shit. She's upset, so it's warranted.
"Listen closely and you'll hear me," he says, speaking a little louder for a moment before he hangs up and walks up the stairs. He walks right to her and puts a big, warm hand on the back of her head.
"Spa sounds good," she replies. She's barely in there herself, and it's probably one of the last places anyone would check, other than the Brew. "You can get a haircut."
She means it to be teasing, but it comes out a little flat anyway.
He puts his arm around her shoulders as they walk. She could use the
support, but he also wants to discourage people from talking to them, and
two friends who look like they've got something going on are less likely to
be bothered.
"Couple minutes more, then you can let go, alright? Just hold on."
"I did Joel's hair just fine, thanks," she replies, but she's perfectly fine with settling against his arm, eyes low. She wants to believe it'd take more than a gunshot wound to get the barge mobilized on anything, but who knows?
"I seen that guy, and I seen what I look like after I visit a real barber,"
he points out, easily bantering with her to keep her at least somewhat
occupied. "I'm gonna leave it to the professionals."
"That's fine by me, as long as someone keeps you from looking like you live in a cave," she replies, but she appreciates it. Keeps her from wanting to just run, even if there's really nowhere to run.
"That is so colossally fucked up," Tess replies. Cannibals. Exactly what she imagines to be living out there, anyway. "You could not pay me enough to live in a cave."
"Be honest with you, I mostly just slept right outside when it wasn't
raining. They kidnapped people and held 'em in cages, gave me the creeps to
stay in there even after we cleaned it out."
He takes out his journal when they get to the spa and opens it up, ushering
them inside. It is, indeed, blessedly quiet at this hour.
She goes in and immediately walks away from Arthur. Space is good. She feels like she needs to pace.
"Yeah, you won't get me to live just outside a cave, either."
She'd told Jake a week back that she planned to go to Arthur's world after all this, and though she questions the decision for an instant, she decides that she'd be able to handle that just fine. A world with cannibals can still be a world without Infected. It's still a step up.
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He's putting on his boots as she speaks, the thunks audible in the background.
"He die?"
First things first.
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"So he ain't dead, and Larry saw you, but neither have come after you. Larry's gonna take him to the infirmary, and I'm gonna come pick you up. Alright?"
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"Alright," she replies. And then, with the barest, most uncomfortable chuckle: "I think he's a warden too."
Like it'd be any better of a situation if it was an inmate? She's not sure.
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"If I got the right guy," he does, who else looks like a corpse here? "You're likely right. He made a whole video about it."
A little too much for Arthur's taste, but he can understand the reasoning.
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It occurs to her that she’s never shown one to Arthur, but it’s fine. She knows what she’s talking about.
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"Jesus, the Admiral sure as hell knows who to bring here, huh?"
He's closing his door, and walking to the right level.
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"Well, now he's both shot and ugly as hell," Arthur says, pragmatically. It's likely not very nice of them to say all of this; he doesn't give a shit. She's upset, so it's warranted.
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"Alright, tiger, calm down," he grunts at her, shaking his head. "He's not gonna leave just 'cause you think he'd be better off without a leg."
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"Well, I'm not going to be in the same space as him," she informs him. "Are you close?"
The more time passes, the more reason to think someone's raised some sort of alarm.
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"Listen closely and you'll hear me," he says, speaking a little louder for a moment before he hangs up and walks up the stairs. He walks right to her and puts a big, warm hand on the back of her head.
"Come on. Time to go."
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"Where are we headed?"
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"Not your cabin or mine - spa?"
He never goes there and as such, in his head, it's more or less deserted all the time. Perfect to hide out in a little.
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She means it to be teasing, but it comes out a little flat anyway.
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"By you? Thanks, I'll pass."
He puts his arm around her shoulders as they walk. She could use the support, but he also wants to discourage people from talking to them, and two friends who look like they've got something going on are less likely to be bothered.
"Couple minutes more, then you can let go, alright? Just hold on."
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"I seen that guy, and I seen what I look like after I visit a real barber," he points out, easily bantering with her to keep her at least somewhat occupied. "I'm gonna leave it to the professionals."
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"I did live in a cave before I got here," he points out. "After we chased out the people-eaters."
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"Be honest with you, I mostly just slept right outside when it wasn't raining. They kidnapped people and held 'em in cages, gave me the creeps to stay in there even after we cleaned it out."
He takes out his journal when they get to the spa and opens it up, ushering them inside. It is, indeed, blessedly quiet at this hour.
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"Yeah, you won't get me to live just outside a cave, either."
She'd told Jake a week back that she planned to go to Arthur's world after all this, and though she questions the decision for an instant, she decides that she'd be able to handle that just fine. A world with cannibals can still be a world without Infected. It's still a step up.
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"Hey," he says, taking a seat on one of the adjustable chairs in front of the hairdresser's mirror. "What happened?"
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