Lay Me Down

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Fluffy, Oct 13, 2012.

  1. "As I danced with the dead
    My free spirit was laughing and howling down at me
    Below my undead body
    Just danced the circle of dead"

    Zoe Howard, age twenty-eight, sat behind the wheel of a car that was very recently stolen while listening to the comforting lyrics that played from the CD player. Whoever previously owned this car had good taste in music. With her lithe fingers around the black coloured steering wheel, she guided the vehicle away from the city she and her beloved partner were escaping from. They couldn't afford to stop moving. Police were alerted of a hostage situation when witnesses reported two masked figures forcing a middle aged man into the trunk of his own car.

    No one was following them at the moment. Zoe and Castor threatened to murder the man if they saw anybody trailing behind. In case anyone were to accuse them of fibbing, their hostage was given a bullet to the foot right in front of the witnesses. Thankfully, the roads were mostly empty. The sun was setting at they were on the freeway that would take them to a smaller, less populated town. Which meant, the opposite side was quite packed with people heading to the city. Zoe was pleased.

    The woman was a hot mess at the moment. Her hair tie was doing more bad than good now, holding onto a clump of hair that needed brushing. Zoe's makeup was a wreck, too. There was lip gloss smudged all around her mouth and her eyes would look bruised to a person from a distance, because of the smeared eye shadows and liner. Her pale skin showed splotches of dirt and blood from wrestling with the kidnapped fellow in the trunk. That son of a bitch managed to hit her in the nose, causing blood to drip in random spots, but at least it wasn't broken.

    Despite all of the filth, she seemed jubilant. Her pierced lips were smiling at the road, while her stubbed fingernails tapped at the wheel to the music. Zoe liked to be pretty, but it was not a priority. The life she shared with Castor was very dirty, in more ways than one. They were wanted criminals always on the run who had yet to be captured. Even the trails of evidence couldn't get them caught. Zoe was delighted by the idea that they were smarter, faster and stronger than any brute force who pursued them.

    "Where should we take our little friend to?" she asked, her jade eyes shifting to her partner's direction. There was a feminine softness to her voice that only two people in the world had the pleasure of hearing. Those people were Castor, and her mother. The rest of the time, her words were cold, making spines tingle with horror.

    This hostage was a feisty one, so he could be troublesome with lots of noise. Then again, it's not like they couldn't handle that with some duct tape and the element of fear...

    "And we should celebrate. We'll be that much closer to our goal, sugar." Zoe grinned again. Finally, they found someone capable of creating their false IDs so they could leave this country. Plus, she'd party with every reason she possibly could. As their favourite song said:

    "They drank up all the whiskey and
    They partied every night
    Like it could be the last
    The bounty said shoot on sight."
  2. bonnie_and_clyde_by_e338-d4924zb.jpg Castor Creed sat, legs kicked up on the dash, with a cigarette between his lips. Under a plain black shirt his still warm 45 rested, holstered, against his side. What fucking luck they had! The papers would read “ SIX DEAD IN ARMED ROBBERY”, Although Castor would call them ‘fucking idiots’ and that they had actually only killed 5. First the three security guards, one of whom was working on his day off, then the brave bank teller who thought it would be smart to hit the silent alarm, the good samaritan who had caught a bullet to the neck trying to help a fallen civilian and lastly the poor woman trying to cross the street after they had boosted the car, but she was an accident. A bloody trail of bullet strewn bodies. Not a bad day, considering it was only a little after 10am. Castor took no joy in killing, nor did he feel remorse. It was all part of life. His life. Some people built homes, cleaned bathrooms or fought fires. Castor was a criminal, and what was more, so was the women he loved.

    "Where should we take our little friend to?"

    Castor inhaled deeply before flicking the butt out into the desert. They were on a stretch of route 66 in New Mexico. It ran, due south, well away from the nearest major highway intersections. Another 9 hours or so they would be in...

    “Edgewood….If this prick even makes it that far.”
    Castor laughed, something he did rarely and usually with only the darkest of undertones. “But we should..." Castor made a gun with his thumb and pointer finger, pointing it towards the trunk, simulating pulling a trigger "..him and dump the body before we get there, probably have to jack another car, too. Not tonight though. Tonight we've earned a break”

    Edgewood, New Mexico. One of the states smaller establishments whos outskirts serve as home to ‘end of the line’ motels and diners. The perfect place for a road worn trucker to stop for the night, or two cold blooded killers on a mission.

    "And we should celebrate. We'll be that much closer to our goal, sugar."

    “You know it, baby. Tonight we rest in style, at Casa El Roach-O! If I remember right Edgewood has at least a few of those." Castor spoke over the muffled screams of their 'passenger' “I think the Good ol’ U S of A has had about enough of Castor and Zoe. It’s about time we give them a break, anyway” Spiteful sarcasm leaking from his voice. In truth, they were being hunted by just about every law officer, local and federal, in the country. Not to mention the twenty or so bounty hunters that had a ‘Dead or Alive’ warrant on them. It was either leave the country under assumed names, or die at the hands of the law, and hell if Castor was going to let he and Zoe to go out like Bonnie and Clyde. No fucking way.
  3. Zoe couldn't agree more with his idea to just waste the man in the trunk. He was obnoxious and pretty soon, would be useless. The tone in the captive's voice was angry, much to her amusement. Had he been less of a wimp, he could have avoided this fate. It was survival of the fittest, after all. She and Castor were pretty damn 'fit'.

    The long drive was almost over. Zoe was glad to see that the entrance to Edgewood was only twenty or so minutes away, because she was getting very restless from sitting for so long. Next time they needed to make a long trip in their escape, he was going to drive. It was only fair that they traded off every once in a while.

    Before they could enjoy themselves at an El Roacho, they needed to take care of their hostage. She spotted a road that led off of the freeway, to a park that was closed off so crews could spend the season clearing out invasive species. This was perfect! All they needed to do was get over the gates blocking all visitors, and then they could take care of business. Likely, there wouldn't be anyone at work during these late afternoon hours. Any witnesses would get shot, anyhow.

    She turned the car to drive onto the exit. The speed limit demanded a number too low for her tastes, so she sped forward until the large, metal gates caught her eyes. Zoe switched off the car before looking to her beloved with a grin. "Quiet and outta the way. Let's go for a walk."

    After undoing her seat belt, Zoe hopped out of the car, shutting the door behind her. Using the stolen ring of keys, she popped open the trunk to reveal their tied up victim to them. He looked exhausted.

    "Ahaha, you look like shit. Smell like it too," she said to the doomed fellow, her hands searching him for valuables since there wasn't time to do so before. Humming to herself, Zoe managed to get a fancy watch off of his wrist, and his wallet from his back pocket. She noticed a shiny gem in the man's ear, too. Without a word of warning, she pinched the diamond earring and tore it right out of his earlobe, causing him to make a painful scream beneath the rectangle of duct tape over his lips.

    Blood dripped freely down her fingertips while she examined the stone in her possession. Shrugging, the earring was dropped down her cleavage for safe keeping so she could take it to someplace she could sell it to, or maybe she could trade it to a drug dealer for something good, either to smoke or to sell for cash. The wallet was tossed into the car through a partially rolled down window. She decided to leave the man they kidnapped for Castor to handle.

    Before they could get to that, she offered the shiny wrist watch to him. "Look honey, I got you a present!"
  4. bonnie_and_clyde_by_e338-d4924zb.jpg Castor got out and walked around to the back of the car, he took slow, wide steps and had a certain swagger about the way he moved. Head cocked slightly to the left, top buttons of his white dress shirt loose with a black jacket hanging off his shoulder. It was just about what you would expect from a carer criminal that had ducked prison for his entire life. Castor was cocky, crazed and careless with the butt end of a nickel platted 45 hanging out the back of his slacks.

    He took the watch, a Tag Heuer, and slipped it over his left hand, admiring it in the setting sun. Their 'hostage' shook noticeably, beads of sweat and tears running down his face. If it wasn't clear before, the realization that he would not live to see sunset was now a certainty.

    "Thanks baby, this is nice."
    He shifted his gaze to the south, where not twenty minutes away was the small establishment of Edgewood. Sanctuary and the perfect place to plan their next move. They could walk it from here, after taking care of the sniveling, crying, frightened man that lay in the dirt at their feet.

    "You got anything to say, hombre?" Castor asked

    "Say…" The man whined, choking tears back as he spoke "Let me go, please. I have money..I…I…I, Please. Don't do this...." Castor frowned

    "Man, all you squares are the same. I give you the chance of a lifetime, man. You're final words, to leave an impact on two of the greatest criminals to walk the fuckin' earth, and you waste it crying and begging for your life. Is this really how you want to go out?" He turned to Zoe.

    "He's a bitch, ain't he? I mean he hasn't even tried to get the upper hand here. Your last memory will be crying in the dirt begging for you pathetic life?"
    Castor whipped the 45 out from the small of his back.

    "No…no DON'T Please…"

    Castor put the barrel between the mans eyes, smiling. The blast that separated the mans head from his shoulders echoed into the surrounding desert. His body slummed to the dirt. If Castor had a nickel for every life he'd taken, there would be no money left for him and Zoe to rob.

    'C'mon baby, let's get the fuck outta here. Let the cops find the car and deal with this. I'm tired of hiding bodies."

    Witnesses were never worth the time it would take to avoid killing them, Castor had always thought.

    After a short walk along the dusty road, with not a single car in the 40 minutes it took to reach their destination, the town came into view.

    Edgewood. Blink and you might miss it. Aside from two small motels, the Hello-Hotel and The Edgewood motar stop, respectively, there was a greasy spoon diner, that doubled as a bar, and a rusty old one pump gas station. That was it. No police, no fire, no hospital. If you wanted classy stuff like that you had to go to elsewhere. The residents of Edgewood lived in trailers that dotted the edge of town. It was a dump, a sad little community in the middle of fucking nowhere.

    "Let's get us a bottle of something strong and a room for the night." He squeezed his lovers hand "After we rest we can plan out what kind of hell we'll raise tomorrow.."

    With the days events fading away, from the robbery, to the killing of the hostage and virtually every employed man with a badge was on their asses, Castor smiled, cool as a cucumber in December.
  5. Abandoning the car was an idea she strongly supported. It didn't suit her tastes and it acquired a lot of damage from bullets when they were driving away. Plus, there was a mess of human remains in the trunk now. Robbing a different victim of their car would be much easier than cleaning up that piece of trash.

    Hand in hand with Castor, she observed the new surroundings. Everything looked junky, in her opinion. The number of residents was probably a small statistic, but at least the area was mostly quiet. It was a nice change from the over populated city they were in previously. Zoe just hoped that the room they stayed in wasn't too uncomfortable. She lived her life of crime with Castor with a few complaints as possible. That didn't stop her from wanting the more extravagant things of life, though.

    Their plan was to get a bottle of alcohol that gave a strong kick, and then to unwind. She was looking forward to that. The two of them were very tired from the previous series of events.

    Zoe didn't see any independent liquor stores, so she assumed they could purchase something from the restaurant that had a bar attached to it. Surely, if they were willing to pay full price for a bottle, the bartender would accept. Nobody in this dump of a town should turn down any amount of money. Should they ever, they'd have to answer to her fists with the added pain from her precious rings.

    The pale woman leaned in closely to Castor, holding his hand tighter. She was putting on the act of being an incapable damsel hiding behind her man. It allowed her the element of surprise in case someone felt like teasing them, or Castor might need some unsuspecting backup. When they entered the section with the bar, she looked around at the unattractive folks who sipped their beverages. The males seemed to give her the eye, undressing her with their minds and ignoring the whore who were working so hard to sell themselves. The floozies gave Zoe the eye, too. The evil eye. Normally, she'd threaten such people. Luckily for them, she was too tired to deal with a spat. Maybe tomorrow, if they had time.

    Approaching the counter, she read the labels of what drinks were available. Some of them were covered with dust, hiding what exactly they were. It frustrated Zoe. How was someone supposed to do business when the customer couldn't even see the labels? This tempted her to draw out a firearm and shoot every last one of the glass bottles to teach the store owner a lesson.

    "Pick out a whiskey for us?" she asked him softly, grinning at the employee who was serving someone and then heading into their direction. There was a suspicious look on his face. Obviously, travelers didn't stop here often. Zoe and Castor stuck out in this environment, too. She just wanted to get out of there. Nothing about the place intimidated her, she just wanted to get to the arms of privacy.
  6. bonnie_and_clyde_by_e338-d4924zb.jpg Castor loved Zoe, and honestly, that was something he could not say for any other person on earth. He had his own demons, that kept him from expressing it to her enough, but as they walked together he thought she probably knew. Strange thoughts, considering they had just wasted a man begging for his life. Their crime partnership only strengthened their romantic one.

    It was nearing dusk when they got to Edgewood and Castor's feet were sore. When they entered the bar, it was obvious they had chosen the right place to lamb it. These folks must have all been locals, but one thing was sure, they didn't stand out as the judgmental type. Castor noticed a few raised eyebrows, and looks directed at Zoe, and usually he would have acted, but now was not the time. Look, but don't you dare fucking touch, thought Castor.

    "Pick out a whiskey for us?"

    Castor scanned the dust covered bottles on the shelf behind the counter. All the usual suspects. Jack Daniels, Johnny walker, wild turkey 101, Jim Beam. Whiskey in all assortments.

    "Can, I help you."

    "No." Said Castor sarcastically, watching as the mans eyes trailed down Zoe neck to her chest.

    "But you can get your fucking eyes off my wife and hand me a bottle of that Jack, not the small one either, I want the handle."

    The proprietor of the bar stepped back, already nervous and now his face went red from being shamed.

    "Alright, alright. No need ta get testy, we don't ask no questions here. Just so as long as ya got money."

    Castor whipped out a wad of cash big enough to break the bank. He was never one to be cautious about flaunting his money. If someone wanted to rob him, let them fucking try. It would be the last thing they ever did.

    They got the bottle, Castor telling the man that they would be across the street in the Edgewood inn, and that they might be back later for another bottle. They were far enough away from everything, no fear of being followed here. At least not tonight.

    They paid for the motel and were quickly led to a second story room that over looked the main drag through town. Castor had seen far worst rooms in his life, some not even a step above a county jail cell, this one was equipped with not only chairs and tables, but an in room fridge. It wasn't the Bellagio, but it would do.

    Castor took off his shirt as soon as they crossed the threshold, taking out his gun and setting it on the table. It was hot in the desert and he had been sweating all day. A long scar ran down the side of his chest and trailed down just below his navel. He set the bottle on the table and grabbed Zoe around the waist, pulling her in for a quick kiss before cracking the whiskey.

    "Now, let's drink. I am fucking burnt, baby. Figuring out exactly what the hell we are gonna do next wouldn't be a bad idea either."
  7. Zoe secured all the locks when they got into their room. Like Castor, she immediately went to getting herself comfortable. She knelt down to untie her boots before quickly slipping them off with her socks. A sigh of relief passed through her lips when her feet reached sweet freedom. They felt so sore and disgusting from being in the footwear too long.

    She didn't stop there with her shoes, though. The fitting jeans she wore were undone and pulled off too, then were laid over the table until they were needed again. For a moment, she stood still, letting her bare legs breathe while her toes curled against the carpet. Not quite as soft as she wished it was, but it felt nicer than the dusty ground. Soon enough, they could stay in a nicer place. She therefore didn't complain about the stops they made for their evenings.

    After pulling at her blouse to keep it covering the pink underwear she had on, she walked over to Castor and found herself being taken by the waist. They shared a quick kiss before opening up their bottle of whiskey. She snaked her arms around him with her cheek against his warm skin, deciding to cling on for a bit while he drank. Then, she too could take a sip.

    "I wonder if the gas station has any maps. We need more money, and passports..." Normally, she'd suggest to just shoot up the place and take everything from the cash register and shelves, then leave. Zoe doubted there were any amounts worth stealing in that rinky dink store, though. They'd be lucky to find a map for sale.

    "I have the address to the guy who can get us what we need. It's on a paper in my--" She went to take a scrap of paper from the pocket of her jeans, but forgot they'd been taken off. So, her hand ended up sliding down her hip instead of into a pocket. Zoe blushed when she realized how forgetful she already was being. She wasn't even drunk yet! Maybe, it was fatigue. The girl felt tired and restless. Slowly, her arm returned to embracing him. She could always get that address later, like when they had the map to help them find the location.

    "Also, maybe we can get ourselves a two person motorcycle or a car from the repair garage next to the gas station." There was no way she was going to leave this place on foot.
  8. Castor downed nearly three shots in one go. Over the years he had developed the keen ability to appreciate sour mash whiskey without loosing control. Although he considered himself to be his best when sober, when the day was done he was often found with a glass in his hand, bringing the sexy back to alcoholism one drink at a time.

    “Yeah, we need to get our passports. First priority. A map probably wouldn’t hurt.”
    He said, admiring Zoe’s bare legs and shapely build, Before breaking the embrace to empty the contents of his pockets onto the small motel table. His wallet, a crumpled pack of cigarettes , a comb, a folded wad of bills ranging from 1s to 100s, not a lot, considering they needed most of it for the passports, and lastly the metal slug from a fired bullet. It was fired, 10 years ago, by an assassin into Castor’s chest, missing his heart by only a centimeter. When the doctor, who was really just a part-time nurse working from his garage, removed the slug, Castor had kept it in his pocket as good luck. Not that he believed in luck or chance, but it was cool to have and tell the story about nonetheless.

    “..And that’s a good idea. We’ll jack a ride from that garage. Probably should do it before dawn tomorrow, before they open. We can boost a map there, too, but we should probably wait to pull another robbery. God! When this is over and we are en-route to a new life I am going to sleep for a week straight, baby. I must be getting old.”
    He spoke jokingly, and all in all could not have been happier that they made it this far without getting arrested or killed.

    Castor smiled when Zoe went to reach into her nonexistent pockets. It had been a long fucking day.

    “Here, have another drink. Also, where exactly does that passport dude live?”
  9. Zoe gave a sly smile and snatched the bottle from him, shaking her head at the teasing of his age. To her, he'd never get old. Castor was so full of energy, optimism, and ambition. Even when he hit age seventy, she doubted any amount of health problems could slow him down. That was something she greatly admired about this man.

    She took a couple swallows straight from the bottle while making her way to her pants, so she could answer his question. Zoe's footing was clumsy, causing her to tip to one side. Luckily, she caught onto the nearby mini fridge to catch her balance. The drink was stronger than she anticipated and her legs felt sore from their tiring day. She let out a nervous chuckle while looking to the bottle, glad to see she didn't spill a drop. Good save.

    With a chirp of delight, she had one last drink before setting the bottle down on a nearby surface. She dug through her jean pockets, locating a scrap of paper tucked into her back pocket. "208 blah blah street in whatever Arizona," she read quietly, mostly to herself. When she said Arizona though, she spoke louder so he could hear. The state seemed like the only relevant piece of information right now.

    So he could read it if he wanted to, Zoe dropped the piece of paper onto the table. Next to that, she set down their drink. It was going to reach emptiness sooner than she thought.

    "And don't worry, this is from a reliable source. Some little snot owed me a favor." Zoe left it at that, her lips curling into an impish smile. Evidently, someone saved their own life by giving her this information. They were considerably lucky. People who were supposed to be 'dealt with' were usually punched to death. Something about getting her knuckles sore and bloody was thrilling.
  10. Arizona. Roughly a five hours drive through the desert and they would be there. It was a lonely stretch of barren road ahead, one that Castor knew well. It seemed like only yesterday, although it was more like 15 years ago, he was running from the Mexican police through this very same stretch of rock and sand. It had been a long lonely road for him, and for them, Castor never failed to include Zoe in everything he did, had done or ever would do. Soul mates might be going a little far, but intertwined destiny wasn't far off. So many things had happened in perfect sync to get them to this point.

    "Yeah, baby? Well if that 'snot' ever acts up again just let me know." Castor felt a small twinge of jealousy flare up in his chest. The words she didn't speak leaving much room for his own interpretation, probably he was just paranoid. "Maybe we can pay him a visit on our way to Arizona?" He walked up to her, pressing his body against hers, the thick buckle of his belt resting just above her navel. It was late and he was exhausted, but the sight of her always made him want her, one of the reasons they just worked; the sex was always amazing.

    "If only we didn't have to be up at dawn. I'm damn near ready to pass out, baby."
    Castor kissed her on the lips, then turning her head, on her neck.

    Night slipped away and dawn came too quickly. Castor was up while the moon was still shining. He sat with the window open smoking a cigarette, staring out into the per-morning darkness. In the half kitchenette/washroom, a pot of motel packet coffee was brewing. It was going to be a long day. Across the street from the motel was a gas station that doubled as a mechanic shop. There were cars there, as well as maps and a cash register full of money. Ripe for the picking, with any luck Castor and Zoe would be able to get in and out without a hitch.

    Castor got dressed and poured himself a cup of coffee, black. Everything in this world that he could call his possessions were in his pockets and strapped to his body, simple.

    "You awake, Zo?"
  11. Zoe slept peacefully through the night, she just wished she would have slept longer. When Castor asked her a question aloud, she replied with a noise that could be compared to a predator's growl. As well, she rolled herself over to the edge of the bed to lay on her stomach, one foot and one arm hanging from the sheets while she buried her face into her pillow. Obviously, she was childishly grouchy when she felt annoyed, or very tired. It was worse when anyone except Castor put her in such a mood... They always got a bloody lip for committing such a crime.

    "I'm awaaake," she groaned into the pillow, loudly too so he could actually hear her. Seconds later, she rose up slowly from the bed while turning her head. She resembled a demonic creature rising from the ground, mostly, especially with the mess her hair was in. With a yawn, she rubbed at her eye, smearing makeup in the process. More often than not, she neglected to clean her face before bed.

    Trying not to give Castor too much of her attitude, she managed a small smile. Seeing him in the morning was a sure fire way to perk her back up. It was the one thing that turned wrong mornings into right ones.

    "Give me 'bout ten minutes or so to clean up," she requested of him, clumsily getting out of bed to walk over to him. After giving Castor's forehead a tender kiss, she picked up her clothes and went into the bathroom. For about ten minutes, she like told him, Zoe got herself showered and smelling like the cheap motel's provided bath products. While getting dressed, she looked at herself in the mirror, noting how much younger she looked without the makeup. At that, she made a face and left the bathroom fully dressed, but with a towel draped over her wet hair.
  12. Castor cringed in to the pre-dawn morning, opening the motel room door and lighting a cigarette. The little town was literally dead at this hour, as patrons of the bar from the night before no doubt slept off hangovers either by themselves or with paid company. That's just the kind of place Edgewood was. Home to the lost, but Castor knew that soon he and Zoe would never have to deal with places like this ever again. Some might call it running away, but Castor liked to think of it as being reinvented, assuming the role of another life different from the one they now lived.

    He took one last drag from the smoke and threw it off the balcony and onto the littered ground below before walking back in the room just as Zoe emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered.

    "I hate to rush it, but sunrise is coming fast. I think we should slit up, since you're much faster and hot wiring cars, you should probably get the car while I break into the gas station and get a map and some cash. It'll take me about 10 minutes, so meet me around the front of the station. Sound good, baby?"
    He cracked his knuckles, smiling wildly "One more heist and we'll be on the him stretch!"

    Giving his lover a quick hug, wishing they had had time for more, Castor left into the night. He stayed in the shadows making his way quickly and quietly to the gas station. Around back, just as he had thought there was the auto storage with a fine assortment of vehicles. He walked straight past and to the back door, picking up a long pry bar left in the dirt by some sloppy mechanic. With one experienced motion, the door was opened, the lock broke clean away from the door jam. Once inside he headed straight for the register, again using the pry bar to easily open it up. Unfortunately there was only about two hundred and fifty bucks inside, but it was better than nothing. 8 minutes had past as he grabbed a map of New Mexico and Arizona, and went to the front of the building to wait for Zoe.
  13. Zoe showed Castor a smile after they hugged and he departed to do his duty as a thief. The smile was one of affection tangled with somberness, probably the most emotion she showed to any other human being. They were always in such a rush that the times they shared as a couple with no worries were rare times. Each day, she longed for a moment when they could do nothing but hold one another. Perhaps soon, they could share one of those moments. They were getting farther from the law which pursued them.

    With all of her clothes and belongings in tact, she threw the damp towel onto the unmade bed. Her heavy boots clunked against the cheap floors as she walked out of the room and slammed the door shut, her body immediately turning to the direction of the garage where she'd get them a car. This had to be done swiftly to avoid any eyes. It was still early enough that people were probably still getting ready for their morning duties.

    Zoe noticed that there were a few nice looking classic cars amongst the filthy ones waiting for repairs. She guessed they were the garage owner's collection. All of them were for sale, too. Each of the shiny, old, functional cars had a price tag on the window of the drivers seat and the windshield. She walked over to a pretty looking black Cadillac to pick the lock. Once she was inside, she went to work at hot wiring it.

    She used up almost all of her ten minute time limit getting the job done. A grin plastered on her face when the engine purred. With one hand on the wheel, the other hand tossed out the 'For Sale' signs. This one was going to be a gift to her and Castor.

    "Let's go get our passenger," she cooed to the vehicle, putting it into drive and making her way towards the gas station where she expected to find her man ready with a map, and anything else he might have found.
  14. Castor stayed hidden, eyes cocked, in the shadows as he waited for Zoe. Not even the late night drunks were awake at this ungodly hour, the precious moments before dawn when the desert air still had enough chill in it to be considered cool. That won't last long, and with any luck they would be the fuck outta dodge before sunrise. In the silence Castor was able to pick up a low, but distinguishable noise. It was the gurgle of a large American made engine, and before he saw the polished black Steele bend the corner, he saw puffs of exhaust rising into the sky.

    "Cadilliac, nice." Castor said under his breath, the hint of a smile at the edges of his mouth.

    By the time Zoe pulled around the corner, Castor was already at the passenger side with his hand on the chrome handle. He said nothing as he got in, still scanning for any sign of witnesses, or worse yet, the law. By the time this car got reported stolen they would hopefully be across the Arizona border.

    After a few minutes Castor spoke, having given the map a once over and setting it aside.

    "It looks like were good, baby. A few hours on this highway and we'll be in Arizona." He looked over at Zoe as the sun came peaking up from the horizon and felt a very familiar twinge of affection for her. Sure, it was partly due to the adrenalin rush from the robbery, but also because they hadn't had a chance to have sex in what seemed like days. Castor smelled her freshly washed hair as he put his hand on her thigh.

    "No rest for the wicked, maybe we can stop to eat at some point? Fucking breakfast or something. I'm starving"
  15. The moment he was secured in his seat, Zoe sped the car towards the correct exit out of the rinky-dink town they were in. She hoped to goodness they'd run into someplace better after this. Someplace that had quality food and a decent area to relax in. Like Castor, she was feeling the weight of their nonstop driving, running, threatening... Coffee and energy drinks could only go so far. Zoe needed some time alone with him so they could enjoy each other without concern.

    "Hm, I'm hungry too." After her muttering, she made a quick smile at the hand he set on her leg. With one hand controlling the wheel, the other joined his hand to give it an affectionate squeeze. Until she'd need both hands to make a good turn on the road, that's where those fingers remained.

    There would probably be a diner not too far from them. At the very least, she expected there to be a convenience store where they could get something quick until something better came along.

    "I'll get off at the next couple of exits, maybe? There oughtta be somethin' with pancakes or waffles in this direction, truckers gotta eat too." Ignoring the painful churning in her stomach that demanded food, Zoe focused on the signs she bypassed and made a mental note of where she would pull off the freeway. Soon enough, she decided on one. It was an independent diner, it looked like. They were having a special on waffles, which immediately caught her eye.
  16. Castor let his eye's settle on the road as endless miles of vacant desert flew by on either side. It was peaceful to say the least. It always blew his mind how unoccupied the greater united states was. people flocked, like the mindless sheep they all were, to the shores.

    "I could murder me some bacon right now"

    Despite his skinny frame Castor was known to eat like a horse. His appetite for all things, sex, booze, crime and life sometimes boarded on gluttony. Just another sin he would have to answer for of he ever reached the pearly gates, although it was much more likely he would be going to hell straight away. Good thing he was an atheist and believed that death was little more than dreamless, eternal sleep. It wasn't a depressing thought by any means, and as long as he was with his life partner in crime, things were good for Castor.

    As Zoe pulled off the freeway and into a small diner, Castor patted his angle draw holster hidden underneath his coat. Although the weight of the 45 was obvious, he always liked to check. He felt naked with out a fire arm strapped to his body. They walked into the diner and it was just as you might expect; your typical greasy spoon in the middle of the desert so rightly named "Desert grub and coffee". A thin, aging waitress with dyed red hair welcomed them and told them to 'sit wherver you like'. The other patrons barely took notice to the couple as they found their seats. Nothing out of the ordinary.

    "I'll take eggs and bacon with some black coffee" Said Castor when the waitress returned to take their order.

    Across the street in an abandoned used car lot sat a highway patrol car. Inside was a stout cop with aviator shades protecting his eyes from the brutal desert sun. He spoke into the business end of a radio connected to his dash.

    "Yeah, I have those two from Edgewood this morning, the pre-dawn APV that went out, Requesting back up."

    Shit was about to go down, this would be a day none of the unsuspecting patrons of the Desert grub and coffee would ever forget.
  17. "I'll have the waffle stack with some blueberry syrup. A side of scrambled eggs, too." Zoe flashed a smile at the waitress before handing over the menu and seeing her off. The smile was pretentious, but at least painless. She had to practice looking like a sweet young woman to the common folk so she'd seem less suspicious, despite her not so well mannered way of dressing.

    That wouldn't matter much, though. Not too far from them, authorities were plotting how to invade the quiet diner so they could cuff Zoe and her husband. She avoided making more than a two second long glance at the side window. To seem occupied, she stacked the little packaged cups of coffee creamers into a little tower. She hoped there would be time to sneak in at least a couple bites of her breakfast. Zoe was famished. Anymore of this adventuring without some carbs and she'd likely collapse!

    Sirens echoed in the distance, signaling that backup was indeed on the way. There was a lot of road to cover considering how far out they'd driven, but those police cars drove at an impressive speed. At that, Zoe made a sigh. Not much later did their orders arrive, plates of food getting set down in front of them. She casually ate a few bites of her breakfast, mischief twinkling in her eyes while one hand fed her and the other rested on a knife hidden beneath her skirt, strapped to her thigh.

    Some early morning exercise wouldn't be so bad, she supposed.
  18. "We've got visual of the suspects, Desert grub and coffee diner, 3 miles past the green oak exit off 66, do you copy?"

    "Ten-four, we've got three cars headed your way, over"

    Wheels screeched across the hot desert pavement, sending white plumes of smoke into the sky. In the distance sat the little road side diner. All was well, like in a postcard sent from a traveler headed west from New Your city. Just before Castor got a fork load of bacon into his mouth he heard the far off wail, and sighed.

    "I guess this is it, Bonnie." Said Castor grinning at his famous outlaw reference "They've got us now"

    Castor was confident that he had been in more shootouts than most cops, let alone a handful of hillbillies out here in the middle of fucking nowhere. He stood, leaning forward to give Zoe a quick kiss, one that he wished could have been deeper, before surveying the diner. Three patrons, beside themselves, two waitresses, one of whom looked like she had been up for a week on crystal meth, and an overweight cook. Piece of cake. He drew his weapons and kicked over the nearest chair for effect.

    "Don't any one fucking move or it'll your last on earth."

    It was time to get this shit hole dinner movin' and shaken'. It would be their last stand. If only they could lure the cops through that door, kill them all, and be on their way.

    "Zoe, lets get these people to the back of the building, wouldn't want a manslaughter charge if one of them catches a stray." Of course he wasn't concerned with murder, but there was nothing worst than civilians getting in the way during a shootout.
  19. Zoe grinned at Castor after he kissed her. There was a look in her eye that seemed as if she were binding his soul with a promise; she desired much more passion than that. Their morning already got off to a quick start, and now this? Every woman had her needs.

    She let her beloved command the room of folks while she pulled her pistol out, which was tucked in safely behind her in the waistband of her skirt. The barrel was pointed from person to person, scanning the room in a menacing fashion. Zoe's expression was cold, her stance warning the innocent people that she could strike at any moment. She'd have no nonsense.

    "Y'all heard the man, get goin'!" In her most demanding voice, she used her gun gesture to the door that led to the back of the diner. As they slowly made way to that door, she left her spot to stand closer to them. When she got closer, their pace picked up. There wasn't time for them to move like tortoises.

    Everything went smoothly, except for a woman who was too stunned to follow the couple's orders. Zoe stomped over to the cowering lady, staring with amusement as she shivered in between two bar stools with her head under her hands. Swiftly, Zoe dragged the female out from hiding and threw her to the floor, her face giving the solid, dirty floor a bloody kiss. "Don't be stupid," she growled, kicking at the woman with her steel toed boot to get her started. With an irritated look on her face, Zoe watched the frightened customer rush out with the others, a hand over her face in an effort to stop the bleeding.

    Now the real fun could begin.
  20. Castor and Zoe had the unique ability of going from morning breakfast to hostage situation and shoot out with the local law within seconds. They nervelessly took the situation and gained complete control using the diner and it's walls as a barricade against the law dogs, things could have been much worst. Panic, disorder, chaos, all things that rookie criminals had to deal with, but not these two.

    "Alright." Said Castor watching as Zoe herded the customers into the back of the building, where the employes stood shaking. "Let's see what the ass hole law enforcements got out here in the sticks."

    Gun in hand, Castor made his way to a small window near the corner of the building. He knew that corners were always reinforced in framing structures, thus providing more bullet coverage than open wall space, just in case.

    Outside, within a billowing cloud of road burnt rubber from hurried stops, stood four of new Mexico's finest, which was a sarcastic phrase at best. These cops had seen better days. There were three highway patrol and a local sheriff. Castor knew more would arrive unless they acted fast. He broke out the window with the butt of his gun and yelled.

    "We've got a hostage at Gunpoint, drop your weapons, lay in the dirt, and leave the keys to one of those highway patrol chargers in the ignition." He took a deep breath, finally feeling the full impact of the situation "you have three seconds or else this poor bastards brains will be all over the ceiling."

    Castor shot a quick glance at Zoe, urging her to secure a hostage and get ready.