all for one -chapter 8
Hey sorry, havent really gotten used to being in school again so uploads may be few and far between in the coming weeks. oh and this is the last of the arc, the next arc will be pretty different. Thanks for bearing with me through this expiriment.
Don't Call Her Jessica
Unknown
Still Monday Night
"Alright you can take em off now." Sall fumbled with the blindfold the girl had made him and Richard wear on the ride over. Something about not wanting them knowing where her safe house was. It drew off clichés from probably every super hero story ever. In fact, Sall was confident that they would take off their eye covers and find themselves in the bat cave or the fortress of solitude. They had driven around for quite a while until reaching the lair. All the while the girl had been blasting the radio at volumes reaching deafening. She didn't talk much except for humming along with a few songs. Around halfway, the D.J. announced he was about to play 'one of his personal favorites'. The car filled with the opening measures of "Automatic Stop" by The Strokes. The girl tapped in the steering wheel excitedly and squealed, "I fucking love this song!" Then sang along.
Sall couldn't help but be a little surprised. Not by the song, her musical tastes had been pretty obvious when she walked in the door of the restaurant. It was just; she had a really pretty voice. It put everyone in his school's glee club to shame. Honestly, she made rock sound like opera.
The sensory overload wore off and Sall could get a better since of where the hell he even was. He was pretty confident it wasn't in a residential neighborhood. He was also pretty sure he was in a warehouse. A big one, with walls and shelves lined with weapons, probably every kind of weapon ever if Sall had to take a guess. Hundreds, if not thousands of guns, swords, knives, and various other instruments of death adorned the warehouse walls like painting adorn the Louvre.
"What the hell?' Richard said dumbstruck. "Where did you get all this stuff?" Sall asked.
"Oh you know," The girl said, "over the years they just sorta piled up. You see fighting crime and injustice has been something of a pastime for my family. It dates back to the 19th century when my great-great-great-great-grandfather roamed the west with a few others and hunted down outlaws or people doing outlawish things because there was no law system."
"So why did you kill those cops in the fucking Applebees?" Richard asked.
"TGI Fridays," Sall corrected.
"Same F'n thing," Richard barked.
"That is an excellent question," The girl answered, "Mostly it's because most of the cops in this city are on the payrolls of very, very bad people, who I also enjoy murdering, and partially it's because they made fun of my hair." There was an awkward pause.
Sall always hated those; they made him want to claw at his legs or something else completely irrational.
"Moving right along," the girl continued, "If you two really want to do this with me, than you can go ahead and pick out whatever suits you, but if not then get the hell out."
Sall's eyes wandered about the room. There were really a lot of weapons. It was hard to describe the feeling of general weirded-out-ness. The only way Sall could describe it is a typhoon in his stomach. He didn't feel like he belonged there, not in the slightest.
"But before I let you guys touch any of my stash I need to ask a few questions," the girl said, "first, have either of you ever fired a gun of any kind?"
"Yea," Sall said, "In Halo."
The girl sighed. "That doesn't count."
"I dunno," Sall argued, "I'm pretty good at Halo."
The girl didn't say anything; she just looked at Sall with a look of pity and regret.
Richard had waltzed over to the wall and was fiddling with an assault rifle. Flipping it over in his paws, he studied every last detail of the weapon. "Hey I have a question."
"Yea?" the girl asked.
"Do you have a name?"
"Of course I have a name."
The wolf kept on looking at the gun he'd found. "Can you tell us? Or is it one of those if I told you I'd have to kill you sort of situations?"
The girl laughed, which struck Sall as weird, like everything that had happened that night. "It's Jessica," She said as she tossed some of her hair from her eyes, "Jessica James."
"Alright Jessica-"
"Hold up," The coyote said, "I didn't say you should call me Jessica."
Richard froze. Not in fear but in frustration. "Alright, what should I call you then?"
"Call me Jericho," She said, "or at least you should if you want to stay on my good side."
Sall was relieved to hear he was on her good side.
"Now," Jericho said, "I want you guys to come here at five everyday you can. There's a lot I gotta teach you and I don't gotta lot of time to teach it." She took out a piece of paper and wrote down some stuff on it and handed it to Richard, "Here's the directions. And remember, five sharp."