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Week Eighteen -- Sunday
WHO: Snap, Crackle, and Pop!
WHAT: Settling in to their temporary home.
WHEN: Sunday evening.
WHERE: A few miles outside Sundance, in a rural house off the highway.
STATUS: Incomplete.
RATING: PG-13
The sun was setting on another day. After a week on the road, a house had turned up that was perfectly suited to their needs: mostly isolated with sturdy doors and creaky stairs. It was the sort of old house that had been popular in horror movies. With any luck, that wouldn’t be the case here. They could camp out, get some loot, and move on without anyone trying to cut them up with a chainsaw. If there were any chainsaws left. Probably not any working ones, anyway, but there was always a chance that there was a nut job out there, wielding a broken one and making ‘nuuuununununuuuun’ noises as he went.
Even with her mind wandering all over the place, Snap was still on task. After four years, she probably could have done this in her sleep. Placing tripwires was one of the basic traps they’d depended on for a long time. She stretched it out, made sure it was anchored securely on one end, and rigged the noisemaker on the other end. If someone did trip, the clanging would alert her and the boys to their presence quick. If they didn’t, and they thought they could outsmart them, there were other, slightly more lethal, obstacles for any potential intruder to navigate. It wasn’t very nice, but they couldn’t afford to be nice. That was a good way to get dead. And getting dead was at the very top of her ‘things to avoid’ list.
( ...read more... )
WHAT: Settling in to their temporary home.
WHEN: Sunday evening.
WHERE: A few miles outside Sundance, in a rural house off the highway.
STATUS: Incomplete.
RATING: PG-13
The sun was setting on another day. After a week on the road, a house had turned up that was perfectly suited to their needs: mostly isolated with sturdy doors and creaky stairs. It was the sort of old house that had been popular in horror movies. With any luck, that wouldn’t be the case here. They could camp out, get some loot, and move on without anyone trying to cut them up with a chainsaw. If there were any chainsaws left. Probably not any working ones, anyway, but there was always a chance that there was a nut job out there, wielding a broken one and making ‘nuuuununununuuuun’ noises as he went.
Even with her mind wandering all over the place, Snap was still on task. After four years, she probably could have done this in her sleep. Placing tripwires was one of the basic traps they’d depended on for a long time. She stretched it out, made sure it was anchored securely on one end, and rigged the noisemaker on the other end. If someone did trip, the clanging would alert her and the boys to their presence quick. If they didn’t, and they thought they could outsmart them, there were other, slightly more lethal, obstacles for any potential intruder to navigate. It wasn’t very nice, but they couldn’t afford to be nice. That was a good way to get dead. And getting dead was at the very top of her ‘things to avoid’ list.
( ...read more... )