It’s not even a real place. It’s a waystation, a place between things. In the PK, he remembers locker rooms and shared spaces, parts of the building that were public, so they belonged to everyone, which meant they also belonged to no one. They were the depots, the side stops, and a lot of the time they were empty
( ... )
He's walking a little faster than he seems to need to, and keeping his stride light at the same time. Florence isn't close, and the space in between him and her is open, and he's seen no sign of Naga out this way but that means little. This place is dry, and that makes them meaner than usual, which is saying something. They'll get more desperate, they'll range farther than they normally do, and they'll be hungry.
Not that different from people, really.
Just get over the ground, get back to her and then get off the ground again. The ground feels less and less safe these days. Gravity is a liability. Along with his own body.
He looks up and sees something shining and descending, but a trick of the light makes it hard to gauge distance. Who knows. Lots of shit goes on out here. It's strange how the most remote places often end up being the busiest. He dismisses it as unimportant and keeps walking.
The outcropping is cover enough, Tom figures, watching the figure resolve itself against the glare of the setting sun. It's insane, this coincidence. It's been one god damned coincidence after another for months now, and he's done with it. He's ready for it to be over. To live like this....it's a slow death. Any resolution would be a relief.
Pinocchio could be here with a gang. There could be enforcements coming. It could be anything, but he doubts that there's anyone here but the two of them. Together, here at the last.
"I could have killed you ten minutes ago," Tom announced from the outcropping. He's well hidden and there's echoes, here. The place does strange things to noise. It would be impossible to pin point him immediately and he knows it. Tom leisurely loaded his gun. "Getting sloppy, Pinocchio."
He stops dead. He's not even really surprised, is the thing. One way or another he's been expecting this every second. It's convenient, really; one way or another this particular chapter ends here and he doesn't have to bother traveling any more. After this he'll either go on and find Heider or he won't be doing much of anything, and at this late date that last almost sounds like a relief.
Slowly he turns, his hand moving almost casually to his hip. "Guess so," he says evenly. "I mean, though, getting shot by you was such an enjoyable experience last time. Once just doesn't seem like enough, does it?"
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Not that different from people, really.
Just get over the ground, get back to her and then get off the ground again. The ground feels less and less safe these days. Gravity is a liability. Along with his own body.
He looks up and sees something shining and descending, but a trick of the light makes it hard to gauge distance. Who knows. Lots of shit goes on out here. It's strange how the most remote places often end up being the busiest. He dismisses it as unimportant and keeps walking.
Reply
Pinocchio could be here with a gang. There could be enforcements coming. It could be anything, but he doubts that there's anyone here but the two of them. Together, here at the last.
"I could have killed you ten minutes ago," Tom announced from the outcropping. He's well hidden and there's echoes, here. The place does strange things to noise. It would be impossible to pin point him immediately and he knows it. Tom leisurely loaded his gun. "Getting sloppy, Pinocchio."
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Slowly he turns, his hand moving almost casually to his hip. "Guess so," he says evenly. "I mean, though, getting shot by you was such an enjoyable experience last time. Once just doesn't seem like enough, does it?"
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