InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I love Andie!"

Bob Moran (fat_boy) wrote in snyderville,
@ 2009-12-08 07:10:00

Who: This one is for Tria and OPEN. Bob is just here to be pretty. NPC bikers and NPC medics included at no extra charge!
What: I have no idea. Come along for the ride.
Where: Compton County Prison
When: Immediately after these events here.
Rating: TBD
Status: incomplete

Bob had been involved in a few wild scenes and even a couple of far out, trippy dreams in his day. Voluntarily walking into a jail somehow topped them all.

"Hey!" he bellowed up at the guard tower. "Can we get a medic down here? A doctor, maybe, before this guy ends up like the rest of the Romero-freaks walking around out here?"

He looked over at Tria with a guilty expression.

"Sorry. I really think he's gonna be fine," Bob muttered, optimistic even though Redneck looked halfway to zombie. The dude just needed a few stitches and maybe a pint or two to replace the blood he'd lost. Right?

Fortunately the prison gates opened and a small crowd of helpful and competent-looking people bustled out to take charge of the patient. Bob looked to Tria again, strangely enough showing more worry now that their friend was in good hands. What were the pigs planning to do with them?

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redwaitress
2009-12-09 04:09 pm UTC (link)

Tria stood guard as the two bikers helped a now passed-out Redneck into the prison compound. He was going to be alright, she thought to herself, she was not going to lose her job. Why she was thinking about a dead-end job was lost on her. Someone was dying and Tria was thinking about her job. Tria reached up and scratched her neck, something she always did when she lied or was uncomfortable. She would suck at poker, that was sure.

Looking at Bob, Tria snapped, "He wasn't bitten by those things. He is just shot." The blood was getting to her. Tria sighed and turned to Bob, her gaze softening. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for...I'm just...skittish."

Tria didn't know what to do was they were all in there. The paramedics would need to keep Redneck here, won't they? And Tria was not letting Redneck stay here alone if that was going to happen.

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fat_boy
2009-12-10 01:56 am UTC (link)

"I don't blame you, baby." Bob cracked a smile for Tria's benefit.

"Redneck's gonna be fine. They'll get him stitched up good as new." He looked from Tria to his own bloodstained hands. They were both looking a little rough after trying to tend to the biker's wound.

"Let me show you where the bathroom is. They didn't exactly have a ladies room when I was in the joint, but maybe they got one set up now." Bob grinned. "If they don't, I'll just stand guard while you wash up."

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redwaitress
2009-12-12 09:21 am UTC (link)

Tria smiled wearily. Glancing down at her hands, she saw that her fingers were stained red as well--by Redneck's blood. She did need to wash up, and have a drink of water, if possible. Her lips were cracked slightly and her throat was dry.

"I would love that, lead the way." Tria eyed the prison with distaste, she didn't like it at all. Most of the bar's patrons were ex-cons or some sort of juvi graduate. She wondered what it was like to be locked up in such a dreadful place. Her brother had nearly gotten locked up by the feds, Tria hoped she would never find out that feeling. With the zombie apocalypse, Tria was sure the police were too overwhelmed to catch any convicts though. That was a relief, if she ever did something illegal.

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fat_boy
2009-12-15 03:47 am UTC (link)

Urged on by Tria's words, Bob guided her deeper into the prison. There were a few welcome signs of change along the way: paintings on the walls, hand-lettered signs, and a lot less armed and uniformed guards. When they reached a restroom, Bob grinned.

"Well, would you look at that? They did set up a ladies room! Groovy."

Not only was there a sign indicating 'women', but the bathroom door itself had been painted over a very non-institutional shade of bright pink.

"Stick it to the man!" Bob enthused.

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redwaitress
2009-12-15 08:34 am UTC (link)

Walking along the long and dowdy prison hallway, Tria felt like she had developed claustrophobia overnight. The stark grey walls were depressing, reminding her of the worst parts of her hometown. The abandoned buildings and warehouses that were left for dead and nestled gangs, drug dealers and God knew what else. Even the colorful additions to the walls made Tria think of the layers and layers of graffiti and gang symbols.

Upon reaching the ladies room, Tria burst out in laughter. A bright pink door? She didn’t know why it was so hilarious, but Tria was still smiling. It seemed so out of place, almost ridiculous in fact. “That’s a relief, darlin’.”

Tria thanked Bob and went inside. The tiles were a soft pale rose color too, it was comical. She quickly washed her hands, dying the water red with Redneck’s blood. She splashed her face, and took a deep breath. Checking herself in the cracked mirror, Tria put on a brave face and walked out clean and all smiles again.

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