Gran Torino.
Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2019 2:47 am
(Scout Pfeiffer continued from Unforgiven.)
It took Scout half a second to realize that someone drove one of the cars in the garage for a test drive. Fresh skid-marks on the pavement, an elevated platform that was empty. Scout was no expert about cars. She didn't even have her driving permit. That was the problem, wasn't it? If she were an expert, she might be able to confirm. But she did not. So the possibility that some nutcase was somewhere out there running people over. You don't bring a gun to a car fight. Or was that comparing apples to watermelons?
Whatever. The possibility of getting hit by a fucking car never occurred to Scout and it sent a sudden jolt of energy up her spine. She glanced over her shoulder ...
... Seriously? Did she think there was a Jalopy sneaking up behind her?
Scout said, "Christ. I'm losing my shit."
Sawlaska silently agreed.
The girl sneered to herself. Her life on Deadkid Island was made up of long spells of silence punctuated with short, graphic bursts of violence. It was easy to get on edge. Goosebumps prickled her skin as she scanned the area. It was coming down to the wire. Clarice was still alive. Scout was still alive. She had to be more careful. No zoning out, no stupid mistakes.
Scout looked towards the metal staircase. It was the only place she did not check before. She shrugged her bag off again, putting Sawlaska away. In you go. Out came the gun. She weighed it in one hand, zipped her bag back up. Then she began to walk up the staircase. She needed a place to rest, to change her bandages from yesterday. The pain in her side was almost gone but she wasn't going to trust her gut on this. She needed to be sure. The room at the top of the stairs was good enough. It wasn't a hunting cabin with decent beds, but whatever was in there, it would have to do for now.
Scout got to the top step. She reached for the doorknob, turned it and opened the door.
It took Scout half a second to realize that someone drove one of the cars in the garage for a test drive. Fresh skid-marks on the pavement, an elevated platform that was empty. Scout was no expert about cars. She didn't even have her driving permit. That was the problem, wasn't it? If she were an expert, she might be able to confirm. But she did not. So the possibility that some nutcase was somewhere out there running people over. You don't bring a gun to a car fight. Or was that comparing apples to watermelons?
Whatever. The possibility of getting hit by a fucking car never occurred to Scout and it sent a sudden jolt of energy up her spine. She glanced over her shoulder ...
... Seriously? Did she think there was a Jalopy sneaking up behind her?
Scout said, "Christ. I'm losing my shit."
Sawlaska silently agreed.
The girl sneered to herself. Her life on Deadkid Island was made up of long spells of silence punctuated with short, graphic bursts of violence. It was easy to get on edge. Goosebumps prickled her skin as she scanned the area. It was coming down to the wire. Clarice was still alive. Scout was still alive. She had to be more careful. No zoning out, no stupid mistakes.
Scout looked towards the metal staircase. It was the only place she did not check before. She shrugged her bag off again, putting Sawlaska away. In you go. Out came the gun. She weighed it in one hand, zipped her bag back up. Then she began to walk up the staircase. She needed a place to rest, to change her bandages from yesterday. The pain in her side was almost gone but she wasn't going to trust her gut on this. She needed to be sure. The room at the top of the stairs was good enough. It wasn't a hunting cabin with decent beds, but whatever was in there, it would have to do for now.
Scout got to the top step. She reached for the doorknob, turned it and opened the door.