[ ...Poor kid. Xander hesitates a moment, then reaches back and takes the kid's hand. Crap, the kid can't be more than eleven and here he is, stuck in a zombie apocalypse dressed like a mini Watcher. That's just ading insult to injury. ]
That's a good idea! Boy, I'm glad I've got you along.
[ And he is, actually. Having a kid to keep an eye on is a great way to keep those stomach-twisting panickies from turning into real panics. And panics are no picnics when there's monsters outside.
There's no door at the top of the stairs - that would have been too easy - but there are chairs and a couple decorative little tables and ashtrays (ashtrays? In California? ...Where are they?) and the like. ]
Here, give me a hand. I don't think our friends downstairs will do too well with an obstacle course.
[ They won't make much of a barrier at the top of the stairs, but it'll be enough to slow the first ones down. And more importantly, it'll be enough to make a lot of noise.
And oh look! What's that on the wall? It's an emergency fire box, and look what's inside! Every apocalypse needs an ax!
...Was that a sound downstairs? ]
Head for the Mayor's office, quick. I'm right behind you.
I'm glad too. I couldn't move that desk all by myself, and everyone else here is scary...
[Do people even say 'boy' anymore? Yeesh.
Czeslaw does what he can to scatter things all over the place: considers smashing some of the decorative framed pictures and mirrors, but, they'll have to come back out this way. After that, Czes darts into the office to peer at the situation gathering (or, as their luck would have it, shambling) out in front.]
[ There's somebody walking around downstairs. Quietly, Xander leans over the landing, trying to see. The front doors are still holding - he's going to miss that belt - but it sounds like something...
Okay, step-shuffle-moan is a bad sound. A very bad sound. Tightening his grip on the ax, Xander follows the kid's trail down the hall and into the mayor's office.
The former mayor of Sunnydale had left as office full of weapons - knives, guns, grenades, magic items, you name it. For the first (and probably only) time ever, Xander wished that this mayor had been a little more like Mr Snake.
But then again, with the horde outside? Maybe he had been. ]
There's nothing to worry about.
[ Closing the door behind him, Xander laid his ax on the big mahogany desk and pushed with all his might. ]
It'll be fine. No problem. Everything's under control. We in no danger from the zombies wandering around downstairs. Everything's fine.
[And Czes had thought being stuck in that village with that smile junkie Elmer was the worst. At least those villagers just acted like zombies. He'd been able to get out of that situation by scaring them with the whole flaming demon impersonation, but-- well, there's always that option, actually.
This iss going to be such a pain in the ass. And now this Xander guy has taken him under his wing, but he doesn't even seem to have that much brute strength, yet Czes is kinda-sorta obligated to make sure he got out of here too.
So long as it isn't too much trouble, at least. Hey, maybe the guy will surprise him. Sometimes kids still do that.]
It's okay, huh? I guess we should just have a night picnic and do the hokey-pokey, then!
[The mayor had a few rifles on display (it was, after all, kind of a hick town) with taxedermied deer heads, but even on the off chance any of them had a round left in, they were too high to be useful to Czes. He was far more interested in the fact this guy (or gal, this is the 21st century after all!) was a boozer.
And there were a few bottles of rather high-proof booze. Who knew an alcoholic politician could come in handy.
Czes pulls. out his pocket handkerchief, ripping the scalpel he kept taped to the inside of his arm for just such occasions out from under his sleeve and began to cutting it into strips.]
Say, Mister Xander... do you think these monsters will go away if we say an incantation or find and destroy their maker?
'Cause otherwise, I think fire's the only way we can slow 'em down without guns.
[He won't share the gun he already has. It's way too valuable. He needs that if Xander gets bitten, or they run into other infected people.]
[ Well, one the plus side, the kid was officially past the scared-and-urinating stage. But on the other hand, hooray for sarcasm, friend to all. ]
It's not... the usual way of... killing the undead...
[ Crikey the desk way heavy! And... did he just think "crikey"? Blame it on the kid's retro duds. ]
But I wouldn't... say no... to a couple... pee-bee-and-jays there!
[ One very barricaded door. They ain't going out that way. Unless they smash through the top half of the door where it's all exposed and unprotected and crap! That was half a good plan. Maybe they can find nails and take apart the shelves and...?
But then the kid talks - talks and starts making molotov cocktails - and Xander gets a little distracted from the door. ]
Incanwhatsits?
[ Ah, yes. He remembers this feeling. This is the feeling you get when you're chasing a Hakkan demon and just when you think you've got the spiky little sucker cornered, you realize that it's led you back to the next of vampires who were keeping it as a pet.
Slowly, Xander's hand inches toward the ax, trying very hard to be nonchalant about it. ]
Somebody's been studying! You must have had every gold star on the board, huh?
Gold stars? Not exactly. I'm home schooled. ['The old school' might be more fitting a term for it.]
I'm a big reader.
An incantation. Don't you know what an incantation is? Like Harry Potter stuff. Spells, y'know? If we know what changed these people maybe we could undo it.
If there's something waking these people up, well, maybe we can shut it down.
That's all I was thinking.
[Golf clubs! Man, this mayor was a despot. Is that her shambling around in front in the chewed-up pantsuit? Czes sort of hopes so. That'd be hilarious.
Czes picks up a 9 iron, swinging it around. Nope, not better than the baseball bat, but he's holding it when he notices Xander inching for the axe.
[ The ax is comforting to hold. Even if there's nothing actually weird about the kid (other than the obvious usual), having a solid weapon with a sharp smashy cutty part is really comforting in the middle of a crisis. Buff's got Mr Pointy, Will's got that spell that looks a little like Jubilee's fireworks, and he's got a fireax. Not a bad choice, really. ]
You, knowing stuff about zombies and spells. And how you just so happened to be in here when I showed up, all not bitten... and talking like a very old person, by the way. The whole 'Mister Xander' thing? Totally suspicious.
[ So Xander will stay on this side of the room, and the kid - who never gave out his name, oddly enough - can stay on that side. Yes? Good. ]
And instead of crying for your mom, you're making bombs. Which I appreciate! But still with the suspicious.
[ Downstairs, something very big shatters. That's not good. They either need to get significantly higher, or into a car, and soon. ]
You're a little smarter than you look, aren't you? [That's a relief. Czeslaw doesn't hide his amusement. He's dropped all pretense of being afraid, now. Not that he isn't afraid, but he doesn't get scared like people who can die do. And while he doesn't intend to be munched on by the walking dead, he knows he can't become one of them.
Still, he doesn't want to be food.
It seems one or two of the zombies has start thunking up the stairs and down the hall.]
Just before you came in here, I was checking out the bathroom over there. You might be able to reach the roof through the bathroom window. I'm too short, so you'll have to help me out.
I say we hang out there until help comes [as if help is even coming] or the beasts lose interest.
[Some glass shatters, and the inhuman moans are too close now. Soon they'll be scratching at the door.]
[ Okay, he's got three choices here. Trust the kid and go out the window. Don't trust the kid and leave him here, or don't trust the kid and k... Okay, he's got two choices.
..Okay, he's got one choice. ]
Come on.
[ Without a belt to hang his ax off of, getting to the roof armed is going to be tricky. With a sigh, Xander takes off his gloriously hideous shirt (it's not Hawaiian, but it does have little pink flowers on it) and, using the ax to get the tear going, rips a long strip off the bottom. Not the best improv belt in the world, but it'll hold his ax on his butt while he climbs. ]
So where'd you learn about magic? They have Chanting 101 in junior high now?
[The window's open - not a tough squeeze for a boy of ten, but definitely too far for his cute little arms to reach. Czes has to tippy-toe from the toilet to even look out there. Beneath, the dead are gathering. Czes ignores the urge to chuck one of his molotovs into the crowd. While he could survive a walk through fire as this building went down, Xander likely couldn't, and Czes... well... he hates catching on fire. It's on his top ten list of least favorite activities.]
I can study whatever I want in my free time.
[He hops down nimbly, checking the lock on the flimsy door. There's nothing to really block it, and the zombies can be heard scratching and thudding against the office door now.]
[ Question once again dodged. This kid is slippery! Xander makes a mental note to himself to keep the kid close until they can get back to civilazation. Giles would probably love to have a talk with Junior here, whether the kid is evil or not. ]
Don't panic. Panic causes anxiety and slippery hands.
[ Sticking his head out the window (which might not be a tight squeeze for a ten year old, but Xander's manual-labor bulk is going to give him so trouble getting through), he confirms what the kid said. The edge of the roof is right there - all Xander has to do is grab the overhang and pull himself up. But how's the kid going to make it? ]
Okay, here's the plan.
[ Goodbye, shirt. The remains get ripped into still more strips and knotted together into a (hopefully) sturdy rope. Xander tests the seams and knots, nodding as they hold, and then the bottle of soap under the sink - the heaviest hand-sized thing in the room - gets tied to one end with an easy slip knot. ]
I'm going to crawl out there, and then I'll swing this down to you. The weight will make it swing back, see? You grab it, put your whole arm in the loop here. No, here, all the way past your elbow, to there. Then you hold on tight and I'll pull you up.
[ Being in charge sucks. Why isn't Giles here? Or Buffy? Or Willow, or somebody? He's no good at taking charge! He just carries the gear and shouts encouragement. He's no leader. ]
Gotcha. [Funny, the kid doesn't seem to be panicking at all. In fact, he doesn't even seem to breaking a sweat. Where is that squeaky little wisp of a boy from less than a half hour ago?
He tests the rope himself, shooting shirtless Xander a single, raised eyebrow look.] Whatever our next plan is, it better involve you keeping the rest of your clothes on.
I'll pass up the bottles to you once you're up there, 'kay?
Hey, my manly splendor is splendid. And very manly.
[ Is there a trash bag under the sink? There is! Here, kid, bag those up while Xander tries not to peel all the skin off his back climbing through this tiny window. ...Ow. Ow. Ow ow ow crap.
But he makes it, finally, as we all knew he would. He's the good guy, and what kind of story would it be if the good guy died? Getting onto the roof isn't much of a problem either - it's a good reach, but it's only a pull-up and a bit of scrambling, and he might not be the Slayer, but he's still pretty strong.
From up here he can see most of the town... or what's left of it. It's horrible. There's visible gore splattered from many of the visible windows and doors, and on the streets below. Smoke is rising from the other side of town, and everywhere there are zombies shambling through the otherwise empty streets. This is a one-horse town, and somebody just shot the horse.
He's suddenly much less sure they can get away. ]
You ready? Here it comes!
[ Bracing himself against the bathroom's fan vent, Xander swings the end of the shirt-rope down. Hopefully it's long enough. Hopefully the kid can catch it. Hopefully it doesn't break. ]
Any wish-granting demons listening? [ --he whispers. ] I'd like to make a wish.
Got it! [There's a crash in the office behind them, and urgency in the boy's voice, suddenly.]
Pull me up!
[Czes had already seen the devastation of the town. Maybe it'd be better for him to just shoot Xander in the head before he gets bitten and infected. But... something keeps him from that, something about the guy and his story of a weird town. Maybe it's really possible they'll get through this.]
[ Oh no. Oh no. Panic lending him strength, Xander hauled on the makeshift rope, pulling the kid up hand over hand until they were both safely (ha!) on the roof. Man would he be feeling that tomorrow!
His legs buckled underneath him and Sander sat down hard, wiping the sweat off his face with his forearm. Below, the horde's moaning seemed to have grown louder. Or maybe there were just more zombies moaning. Neither of those options was awesome. ]
[It didn't go smoothly, actually, and Czes heard the sickening pop and crack of his arm being yanked totally out of its socket. He is pale as he stumbled onto the roof, holding his shoulder. He can already feel his body compensating, pulling itself back together into the proper shape. Czes rolls his arm and shoulder about a little bit, then stands, brushing off his pants.]
Thanks. I guess I owe you one.
[A quick glance to the ground.]
Think it's getting worse out there. I wonder if they can smell us.
That's a good idea! Boy, I'm glad I've got you along.
[ And he is, actually. Having a kid to keep an eye on is a great way to keep those stomach-twisting panickies from turning into real panics. And panics are no picnics when there's monsters outside.
There's no door at the top of the stairs - that would have been too easy - but there are chairs and a couple decorative little tables and ashtrays (ashtrays? In California? ...Where are they?) and the like. ]
Here, give me a hand. I don't think our friends downstairs will do too well with an obstacle course.
[ They won't make much of a barrier at the top of the stairs, but it'll be enough to slow the first ones down. And more importantly, it'll be enough to make a lot of noise.
And oh look! What's that on the wall? It's an emergency fire box, and look what's inside! Every apocalypse needs an ax!
...Was that a sound downstairs? ]
Head for the Mayor's office, quick. I'm right behind you.
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[Do people even say 'boy' anymore? Yeesh.
Czeslaw does what he can to scatter things all over the place: considers smashing some of the decorative framed pictures and mirrors, but, they'll have to come back out this way. After that, Czes darts into the office to peer at the situation gathering (or, as their luck would have it, shambling) out in front.]
Oh no...
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Okay, step-shuffle-moan is a bad sound. A very bad sound. Tightening his grip on the ax, Xander follows the kid's trail down the hall and into the mayor's office.
The former mayor of Sunnydale had left as office full of weapons - knives, guns, grenades, magic items, you name it. For the first (and probably only) time ever, Xander wished that this mayor had been a little more like Mr Snake.
But then again, with the horde outside? Maybe he had been. ]
There's nothing to worry about.
[ Closing the door behind him, Xander laid his ax on the big mahogany desk and pushed with all his might. ]
It'll be fine. No problem. Everything's under control. We in no danger from the zombies wandering around downstairs. Everything's fine.
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This iss going to be such a pain in the ass. And now this Xander guy has taken him under his wing, but he doesn't even seem to have that much brute strength, yet Czes is kinda-sorta obligated to make sure he got out of here too.
So long as it isn't too much trouble, at least. Hey, maybe the guy will surprise him. Sometimes kids still do that.]
It's okay, huh? I guess we should just have a night picnic and do the hokey-pokey, then!
[The mayor had a few rifles on display (it was, after all, kind of a hick town) with taxedermied deer heads, but even on the off chance any of them had a round left in, they were too high to be useful to Czes. He was far more interested in the fact this guy (or gal, this is the 21st century after all!) was a boozer.
And there were a few bottles of rather high-proof booze. Who knew an alcoholic politician could come in handy.
Czes pulls. out his pocket handkerchief, ripping the scalpel he kept taped to the inside of his arm for just such occasions out from under his sleeve and began to cutting it into strips.]
Say, Mister Xander... do you think these monsters will go away if we say an incantation or find and destroy their maker?
'Cause otherwise, I think fire's the only way we can slow 'em down without guns.
[He won't share the gun he already has. It's way too valuable. He needs that if Xander gets bitten, or they run into other infected people.]
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It's not... the usual way of... killing the undead...
[ Crikey the desk way heavy! And... did he just think "crikey"? Blame it on the kid's retro duds. ]
But I wouldn't... say no... to a couple... pee-bee-and-jays there!
[ One very barricaded door. They ain't going out that way. Unless they smash through the top half of the door where it's all exposed and unprotected and crap! That was half a good plan. Maybe they can find nails and take apart the shelves and...?
But then the kid talks - talks and starts making molotov cocktails - and Xander gets a little distracted from the door. ]
Incanwhatsits?
[ Ah, yes. He remembers this feeling. This is the feeling you get when you're chasing a Hakkan demon and just when you think you've got the spiky little sucker cornered, you realize that it's led you back to the next of vampires who were keeping it as a pet.
Slowly, Xander's hand inches toward the ax, trying very hard to be nonchalant about it. ]
Somebody's been studying! You must have had every gold star on the board, huh?
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I'm a big reader.
An incantation. Don't you know what an incantation is? Like Harry Potter stuff. Spells, y'know? If we know what changed these people maybe we could undo it.
If there's something waking these people up, well, maybe we can shut it down.
That's all I was thinking.
[Golf clubs! Man, this mayor was a despot. Is that her shambling around in front in the chewed-up pantsuit? Czes sort of hopes so. That'd be hilarious.
Czes picks up a 9 iron, swinging it around. Nope, not better than the baseball bat, but he's holding it when he notices Xander inching for the axe.
Oh, please.]
-W.... did I say something, Mister Xander?
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[ The ax is comforting to hold. Even if there's nothing actually weird about the kid (other than the obvious usual), having a solid weapon with a sharp smashy cutty part is really comforting in the middle of a crisis. Buff's got Mr Pointy, Will's got that spell that looks a little like Jubilee's fireworks, and he's got a fireax. Not a bad choice, really. ]
You, knowing stuff about zombies and spells. And how you just so happened to be in here when I showed up, all not bitten... and talking like a very old person, by the way. The whole 'Mister Xander' thing? Totally suspicious.
[ So Xander will stay on this side of the room, and the kid - who never gave out his name, oddly enough - can stay on that side. Yes? Good. ]
And instead of crying for your mom, you're making bombs. Which I appreciate! But still with the suspicious.
[ Downstairs, something very big shatters. That's not good. They either need to get significantly higher, or into a car, and soon. ]
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Still, he doesn't want to be food.
It seems one or two of the zombies has start thunking up the stairs and down the hall.]
Just before you came in here, I was checking out the bathroom over there. You might be able to reach the roof through the bathroom window. I'm too short, so you'll have to help me out.
I say we hang out there until help comes [as if help is even coming] or the beasts lose interest.
[Some glass shatters, and the inhuman moans are too close now. Soon they'll be scratching at the door.]
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..Okay, he's got one choice. ]
Come on.
[ Without a belt to hang his ax off of, getting to the roof armed is going to be tricky. With a sigh, Xander takes off his gloriously hideous shirt (it's not Hawaiian, but it does have little pink flowers on it) and, using the ax to get the tear going, rips a long strip off the bottom. Not the best improv belt in the world, but it'll hold his ax on his butt while he climbs. ]
So where'd you learn about magic? They have Chanting 101 in junior high now?
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[The window's open - not a tough squeeze for a boy of ten, but definitely too far for his cute little arms to reach. Czes has to tippy-toe from the toilet to even look out there. Beneath, the dead are gathering. Czes ignores the urge to chuck one of his molotovs into the crowd. While he could survive a walk through fire as this building went down, Xander likely couldn't, and Czes... well... he hates catching on fire. It's on his top ten list of least favorite activities.]
I can study whatever I want in my free time.
[He hops down nimbly, checking the lock on the flimsy door. There's nothing to really block it, and the zombies can be heard scratching and thudding against the office door now.]
We gotta get outta here.
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Don't panic. Panic causes anxiety and slippery hands.
[ Sticking his head out the window (which might not be a tight squeeze for a ten year old, but Xander's manual-labor bulk is going to give him so trouble getting through), he confirms what the kid said. The edge of the roof is right there - all Xander has to do is grab the overhang and pull himself up. But how's the kid going to make it? ]
Okay, here's the plan.
[ Goodbye, shirt. The remains get ripped into still more strips and knotted together into a (hopefully) sturdy rope. Xander tests the seams and knots, nodding as they hold, and then the bottle of soap under the sink - the heaviest hand-sized thing in the room - gets tied to one end with an easy slip knot. ]
I'm going to crawl out there, and then I'll swing this down to you. The weight will make it swing back, see? You grab it, put your whole arm in the loop here. No, here, all the way past your elbow, to there. Then you hold on tight and I'll pull you up.
[ Being in charge sucks. Why isn't Giles here? Or Buffy? Or Willow, or somebody? He's no good at taking charge! He just carries the gear and shouts encouragement. He's no leader. ]
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He tests the rope himself, shooting shirtless Xander a single, raised eyebrow look.] Whatever our next plan is, it better involve you keeping the rest of your clothes on.
I'll pass up the bottles to you once you're up there, 'kay?
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Hey, my manly splendor is splendid. And very manly.
[ Is there a trash bag under the sink? There is! Here, kid, bag those up while Xander tries not to peel all the skin off his back climbing through this tiny window. ...Ow. Ow. Ow ow ow crap.
But he makes it, finally, as we all knew he would. He's the good guy, and what kind of story would it be if the good guy died? Getting onto the roof isn't much of a problem either - it's a good reach, but it's only a pull-up and a bit of scrambling, and he might not be the Slayer, but he's still pretty strong.
From up here he can see most of the town... or what's left of it. It's horrible. There's visible gore splattered from many of the visible windows and doors, and on the streets below. Smoke is rising from the other side of town, and everywhere there are zombies shambling through the otherwise empty streets. This is a one-horse town, and somebody just shot the horse.
He's suddenly much less sure they can get away. ]
You ready? Here it comes!
[ Bracing himself against the bathroom's fan vent, Xander swings the end of the shirt-rope down. Hopefully it's long enough. Hopefully the kid can catch it. Hopefully it doesn't break. ]
Any wish-granting demons listening? [ --he whispers. ] I'd like to make a wish.
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Pull me up!
[Czes had already seen the devastation of the town. Maybe it'd be better for him to just shoot Xander in the head before he gets bitten and infected. But... something keeps him from that, something about the guy and his story of a weird town. Maybe it's really possible they'll get through this.]
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His legs buckled underneath him and Sander sat down hard, wiping the sweat off his face with his forearm. Below, the horde's moaning seemed to have grown louder. Or maybe there were just more zombies moaning. Neither of those options was awesome. ]
See? Nothing to it.
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Thanks. I guess I owe you one.
[A quick glance to the ground.]
Think it's getting worse out there. I wonder if they can smell us.
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