Whole area, let's generously call it a two kilometer radius. Roughly.* [ It's easy to imagine from his tone of voice that the equivocating hand gesture that he would make if they were in person right now; the goofy "ehhh" face. ]
There's a cabin directly west of me. One kilometer from me now. Made out of wood. No human or animal life that I can see, no guard dogs, no barbed wire, no fence, no obvious signs of fortification but an arrow just came flying at me straight from that direction. Didn't see who fired it, but whoever they are - hoo, let me tell you, they're a good shot! [ He sounds almost impressed! ]
Right now, I've been in the brush for almost an hour. Nothing else has happened, sooo... [ You can also imagine the shrug! ] whoever it is, I don't think they can see me from here.
Gonna start crawling closer, slowly, until I have a better vantage point for observation.
*OOC: Based on this part of the map where he was when this happened, I'm assuming one kilometer for the red square with the cabin + one kilometer for the area right in front of it where Lalo was while this conversation was going down.
[ No animal life whatsoever is a bad, bad sign, but Rust's distracted by— ] You hit? [ He goes silent a long moment, replaying the other man's breathing in his head. ] Don't be fucking coy about an injury.
[ Lalo sighs heavily into the walkie. There's a mechanical huff in response to the gust of air being breathed into the speaker of the walkie. Stupid cops and their stupid do-gooder bullshit... ]
Ay, I'm fine, man! [ He pauses to wince. ] Yeah. I'm hit. In the shoulder. I'll be fine. Been through worse.
Alright. [ Terse, focused. He doesn't sound harsh: no time for it.
Could it have been a warning shot? ] Want you to retreat the way you came. Exactly the way you came. You hang onto the arrow, that'll tell us something. No bullshit heroics.
[ Lalo's voice is breezy; relaxed, even cheerful. ] Relax, man. Don't worry about it! I know what I'm doing. I'll be fi —
[ There's soft crunching of the leaves and underbrush as Lalo creeps forward, and then — a pause that lasts less than a second before there's a loud, high-pitched yelp as Lalo is abruptly lifted into the air by his ankle. ]
After ten minutes, the walkie clicks back on. On the other end, Lalo dangles upside down, hearing a voice growling into his ear, making him shiver in response. Lalo himself says nothing, but he's had the presence of mind to at least click the walkie on so Cohle can hear what's happening.
But right after the growling, the next thing Rust hears will be a loud, unmistakable pop of a gun going off right before Lalo the connection dies. ]
[ He's set his walkie down—staring at it as if he can will something from it. Itching for a cigarette. At the first squawk of sound he grabs it, holds it up to his ear. There's no accent to the words, no tone, no cadence. It's guttural noise that tries the walkie's limits, and Rust listens to it more as he would to music, to animal calls, than speech.
Then it's over. He says fuck aloud to himself, sends the message immediately, as if it'll make any difference. ] Call as soon as you see this.
[ This text comes through the next day, early on Morning 008. Lalo stares at his walkie, trying to figure out what to say, how to fashion his words.
Elation that he is, indeed, alive again, and then temptation to muse on what the philosophical ramifications of that might be - is muted by feeling covered in the stench of failure, remembering the foreign-to-him feeling of utter helplessness as he spun upside down. That single final word before he died, "pet," replays over and over in his memory, growling into his ear. Not being able to see the person before they approached, if it even was a person? Crawling right into a trap, like an idiot.
He thinks about not texting Rust at all, but even in his current state, long-term he knows that's bad strategy; he needs information and clues from the others if he's going to ever get out of here. Besides, fuck, maybe he owes this asshole something. (Is this how owing people works? It's a concept Lalo has always been a little fuzzy on, except when other people owe him money, and then all of the sudden it miraculously becomes crystal clear.)
He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and then taps out his response. ]
guess shaw isnt crazy after all. ;) or not that crazy anyway. hi. its ben. im ok.
Based on the position of the sunrise, somewhere on the northeast coast. Pretty beat up area. Leaves and fruit shells everywhere. Tide hasn't come in yet but waves look bad. Thinking I should move fast.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aluminumandash) wrote2023-05-15 04:37 pm
no subject
There's a cabin directly west of me. One kilometer from me now. Made out of wood. No human or animal life that I can see, no guard dogs, no barbed wire, no fence, no obvious signs of fortification but an arrow just came flying at me straight from that direction. Didn't see who fired it, but whoever they are - hoo, let me tell you, they're a good shot! [ He sounds almost impressed! ]
Right now, I've been in the brush for almost an hour. Nothing else has happened, sooo... [ You can also imagine the shrug! ] whoever it is, I don't think they can see me from here.
Gonna start crawling closer, slowly, until I have a better vantage point for observation.
*OOC: Based on this part of the map where he was when this happened, I'm assuming one kilometer for the red square with the cabin + one kilometer for the area right in front of it where Lalo was while this conversation was going down.
no subject
no subject
Ay, I'm fine, man! [ He pauses to wince. ] Yeah. I'm hit. In the shoulder. I'll be fine. Been through worse.
no subject
Could it have been a warning shot? ] Want you to retreat the way you came. Exactly the way you came. You hang onto the arrow, that'll tell us something. No bullshit heroics.
no subject
[ There's soft crunching of the leaves and underbrush as Lalo creeps forward, and then — a pause that lasts less than a second before there's a loud, high-pitched yelp as Lalo is abruptly lifted into the air by his ankle. ]
no subject
At the noise, though, he goes silent. Half-expecting some new voice to come crackling through. ]
no subject
After ten minutes, the walkie clicks back on. On the other end, Lalo dangles upside down, hearing a voice growling into his ear, making him shiver in response. Lalo himself says nothing, but he's had the presence of mind to at least click the walkie on so Cohle can hear what's happening.
But right after the growling, the next thing Rust hears will be a loud, unmistakable pop of a gun going off right before
Lalothe connection dies. ]no subject
Then it's over. He says fuck aloud to himself, sends the message immediately, as if it'll make any difference. ] Call as soon as you see this.
text - morning 008
Elation that he is, indeed, alive again, and then temptation to muse on what the philosophical ramifications of that might be - is muted by feeling covered in the stench of failure, remembering the foreign-to-him feeling of utter helplessness as he spun upside down. That single final word before he died, "pet," replays over and over in his memory, growling into his ear. Not being able to see the person before they approached, if it even was a person? Crawling right into a trap, like an idiot.
He thinks about not texting Rust at all, but even in his current state, long-term he knows that's bad strategy; he needs information and clues from the others if he's going to ever get out of here. Besides, fuck, maybe he owes this asshole something. (Is this how owing people works? It's a concept Lalo has always been a little fuzzy on, except when other people owe him money, and then all of the sudden it miraculously becomes crystal clear.)
He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and then taps out his response. ]
guess shaw isnt crazy after all. ;) or not that crazy anyway. hi. its ben. im ok.
no subject
no subject
no subject