Derek Miller (throughthemill) wrote in the_colony, @ 2010-05-24 20:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | ^ week 08, derek miller, thomas galloway, | derek and tom |
Week Eight - Thursday
Characters: Tom Galloway and Derek Miller
Location: Autoparts store
Summary: Tom encounters Derek while shopping for autoparts. To the surprise of exactly no one, Derek isn't friendly.
Rating: R for Derek's mouth
Tom had gotten a later start on the search for his part than he'd intended, but seeing the signs on the entrance to town about meet-ups had changed his priorities for the day and so he was only getting around to it now. The NAPA store had clearly been hit at least once before by looters judging from the broken down doors, and the veteran had his carbine out and leveled as he approached the entrance. These days it paid to be a little paranoid about what might be waiting on the other side of a wall.
The person inside had a healthy belief in paranoia. That was why when he heard the sound of footsteps against the broken glass, Derek stopped searching for motor oil and instead reached for the pistol tucked as always into the waistband of his jeans. Moving silently was impossible in his thick boots but he tried to be quiet as he edged out of the aisle and towards the doors. Derek didn't want any surprises and while he'd rather not reveal himself to a stranger, he didn't want his head blown off by somebody with a nervous disposition who wasn't expecting some company. He kept his gun in his hand.
The sounds of his boots crunching broken glass caused Tom to wince as he entered the store. He hated announcing his presence like this and caused him to firmly resolve to enter through a back entrance. Getting sloppy in my dotage, the veteran mused to himself, need to keep sharp if you want to survive, Tommy boy.
No sooner had the thought entered his mind than he nearly had a heart attack at the sight of another man a short distance away, half obscured by chest high shelves. "Jesus!" The carbine came up to point in the stranger's direction and Tom was reminded once again why it was better to have backup in these sorts of situations rather than being out on one's lonesome.
Now that he'd been seen, Derek ducked back into the cover of the aisle. He held his gun up, ready to fire. It felt small compared to the look of the other man's rifle but it was what he had. "Don't shoot at me, and I won't kill you," he announced. Maybe they could come to an early truce like the girls at the Home Depot had.
Tom had to laugh at the blunt and, in his opinion, overconfident announcement. "Son, if I wanted you dead I'd have pulled the trigger the second I saw you." He called out, having gone to cover himself. "I know it ain't easy to trust strangers these days, but I'm willing to try if you are." God he wished he had a fire team with him, he just wasn't used to this sort of shit on his own despite his confidence in his skills. Iraq had been similar in a lot of ways, but the biggest difference was now there was no hundred thousand man strong organization or, more specifically, no four man fire team to back his play.
Derek bristled at being called 'son.' He wondered how much more dangerous one man with a rifle was, compared to two armed women. "Goddamn Vegas," he swore. "Too many fucking people here for the fucking electricity." Derek didn't put his gun away, but he did lower it, keeping the firearm loosely at his side. "Fine." He half emerged from the aisle again, not willing to come completely out unless he knew this guy really wasn't going to shoot him.
Tom cautiously raised his head above the aisle to see what the other man was up to, and nodded when he saw the weapon lowered. "You're the second person to tell me that this city is getting crowded, I haven't been back here since the spring." He stood to his full height, carbine raised to point toward the ceiling. He'd keep it in his hand until the younger man put his pistol away.
Derek wasn't quite comfortable enough yet to put away his gun so for the moment, he kept it in his grip but at his side. "I haven't been here long." Derek had been lured himself by the thought of power. Electricity was a powerful temptation. He wasn't ready to go back to the Middle Ages just yet.
"You don't sound like a native, no," Tom agreed with a wry smile, then got down to business. "Look, I'm just here looking for a part for my truck. I'm not interested in killing anyone today, so why don't we go ahead and put the weapons away so neither of us gets an itchy trigger finger?"
Derek raised his eyebrows. "You first."
Tom managed to keep a lid on his annoyance. This wasn't some snot nosed PFC or Spec-4, but a man who'd clearly seen more than he'd wanted to and wasn't the trusting sort, he'd have to be patient. "How about we go together on count of three?"
"And then afterward, we can giggle about who's going to hang up the phone first." Derek took a deep breath. "Fine. One...two...three." He tucked his pistol back into his waistband.
On 'three' Tom put his arm through the sling of his carbine and slung the weapon over his shoulder. "There, that's better." He visibly relaxed with the other man's weapon no longer in hand.
"Yeah, we're going to be just the bestest friends now." He couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice. The fact that they'd decided not to kill each other didn't mean a whole hell of a lot.
"Jesus Christ, cut me a break will you?" Tom rolled his eyes. "An attitude like that it's a wonder someone hasn't shot you by now. You don't want to be civilized, fine, you go your way and I'll go get my part."
Fuck, he was tired of people bitching about his attitude. Someone had done worse than just tried to shoot him and he'd say whatever the hell he wanted. "Fuck off."
"Fine, whatever." If the man wanted to be irritating he was succeeding, but Tom just wasn't in the mood to try and reason with him. He wasn't about to turn his back on him either, and Tom kept one eye on the younger man as he made his way back toward the parts aisles behind the counter.
That was good enough for Derek and he moved slowly back down the aisle to resume his search for oil.
After looking up exactly what he needed in the part book on the counter, Tom spent another ten minutes in the aisles trying to figure out exactly where it was located. Eventually he found what he was looking for and emerged from the rear of the store with two of the item just in case. "All right, I'm out of here. Have a nice life buddy." It'll probably be a short one