The Paradise Hunter
Collette “Colt” Stanhope
Colt listened to the purple haired woman in the car as she explained her own plan. Colt’s lip twitches as she thought back on it. She didn't like the idea of them going off on their own and ignoring the order given to them. People died that way. Stupid people. But… she wasn't in Afghan anymore. She could not keep thinking that way anymore. These were civilians. And so was she. What could she do to protect them? Nothing.
The veteran bit the side of lip as she thought of an answer. What did the woman mean by followers?
“Followers? You have followers?” She asked, “for what?” What did she mean? Was she the leader of some kind of cult?
“...Doesn’t matter. Best tell them. This might be big.” But then as the woman asked her if she was injured, Collette froze as a bright light flashed in her face and she heard a deafening bang in her ears, heat rushing onto her face. Screaming.
Stanhope shook her head as she suddenly woke back up. She looked at the girl as she offered her help despite just being a vet. With a slight grumble, Colt took another swig of whisky to clear that memory from her mind. “No- no, I’m fine, thanks. Just…” she thought for a second before reaching into her rucksack.
Pulling out a glock from her bag, she handed it to the woman through the car’s window. She looked to the younger man again and gave him a weak smile though she doubted it would help. “Just… maybe come to the school once you're done… name’s Colt.” She said before taking her leave and continuing down the street, now stumbling slightly as the mix of whisky and the hangover began to affect her sense of balance. She hoped the pair would be okay. They seemed able enough. Still, this day was getting stranger by the second.
As she approached the school, she noticed the crowd of people assembling. It was almost like the whole city was here. Her attention was diverted to a couple of younger teens who seemed rather unsure of the whole situation. She took on more whisky before putting the flask away and adjusting her cap lower over her face. Her eyes were bloodshot and aching badly.
“It's probably just a prank. Like those clowns. Terrorising America my ass…” she grumbled the last part mostly to herself, “Still….better get inside.” She frowned a little. She seriously wished she had the answers. Surely this was not real. There were not dead people running around attacking the living. It sounded so stupid. But she didn't seem to know anything now. Nothing learnt meant. As she stood, she kept moving her prosthetic leg a little. If she kept it still people would get suspicious. As she stood waiting for their response or being told to proceed, she wasn't aware of herself unscrewing her flask again. It was basically second nature. She couldn't walk right anymore, but she could still exercise her arm.
@Soma Schicksal @AgWordSmith @The Mad Queen