Drake was sitting calmly in his seat when he heard a scraping noise. He then saw Hawke move cautiously in the train. He followed Hawke and asked, "What's the matter?"
Sadie paused as she spoke, hearing the ring of feet on metal above them. As she glanced upwards she felt a sudden chill, realising it wasn’t one of the crew; Mika, Lewis, Artie, Spencer and David were in here, so was Chris, sulking in the back. Drake and Hawke should be together at the front of train. It couldn’t be the Doc, because from what everyone had said he had pretty badly mangled ankles, and it seemed like Gask was with him. Eve had locked herself in the truck outside, and was presumably still there. Looking round at the others’ faces, Sadie realised they’d come to the same conclusion. But no, she shouldn’t worry yet – it could be Hawke or Drake, checking the train maybe. “Did anyone hear that?” Sadie glanced at Lewis and nodded, then made a motion to be quiet. Drawing her shotgun from her belt she moved to the carriage door and craned her neck up, but she couldn’t see anyone on the roof. Through the door she could see that Eve's truck was still shut. It didn't look like she'd come out, but Sadie wanted to be sure. Moving over to it, she tapped lightly on the door and called, “Eve? You still in there?” Sadie froze as there came a scraping noise from behind Eve’s truck. It was time to admit there was someone, or something, else on the train. Narrowing her eyes she crept around the side of the truck, gun at the ready. She swung round the corner abruptly, gun aimed – but there was nothing there. Sadie paused, and blinked. What the hell was going on?
The wariness swept through the group, every ear alert as the footsteps scraped overhead, a few of the others like Hawke and Sadie going outside to investigate. As for Mika she quietly let herself out between the cars, looking all around as she did so but seeing no-one. She let herself into the next car where the doc was. She wasn't sure at this point if she owed Omar a debt of gratitude or what but he shouldn't be injured, incapacitated, and alone if there were enemies on the train. And she couldn't imagine who else would be walking around on the roof.
Helena walked slowly to the end of the carriage the sound of movement from above irritating her. Taking hold of her gun with both hands and readying herself she slowly moved. Suddenly the smashing of glass flew across her face as a bloodied hand came through the broken window and grabbed at her hair yanking her back. The gun released hit the floor and fired the shot impact across her leg. Blood sprayed across the floor she slipped pain stricken. The glass at the other side smashed and a warrior coated in barbed wire with a halo of razor wire embedded in his forehead came through the smashing glass. One hand held a pulse pistol while the other a jagged blade. He cut Helena’s face into two splitting the flesh. Blood trickled down her broken chin as she felt dazed. He raised his blade and slammed it hard into the centre of her skull. The pain almost forcing Helena to blackout. She screamed in a tone that was almost inhuman itself. The warrior retracted his jagged blade as another warrior emerged from the other window this one held two pulse pistols he fired forcing the others back while the third came through the back of the trailer and took hold of Helena’s shoulders and yanked her back. She was gone and the latter two Reaver’s back up out of the carriage. A moment later the severed head of Helena came rolling back across the floor. The head stopped face up the face sheared off and the skull coated in blood with the large eyes still staring up leaving no mistake the fear was still wrought within the pupils.
Drake heard a shrill cry and immediately became alert. He didn't wait for Hawke's answer. He ran towards the direction from which he heard the scream. He saw Helena's severed head on the ground and watched two warriors whom he recognised to be Reavers. "Before a fight I would like to settle some matters. You reavers don't know what you are going to face. You would pay for that", he said pointing to Helena's severed head "and for killing my parents. Just as he said that he opened fire on those two Reavers. Anger was surging through his body. He shouted to others and gave a bad news of Helena's death.
Drake’s shouts had Eve’s head snap up. The scraping noise had given way to the sound of footsteps. She stopped after she’d gotten across to the next carriage and looked upwards. Two Reaver hurried across the top of the train before she could even brandish the gun for a shot they had vanished. She moved cautiously to the head carriage and let herself in. a small circle had gathered around something in the centre of the carriage.
Hawke heard the sound of gunfire break out across the train. he moved through the carriages until he reached the sound. He caught sight of Drake engaging tow Reaver’s. Hawke dropped to one knee and fired. His first shot blew the back of ones head off whgile his second shot took the other through the heart. Hawke turned there was a third bastard. He moved keeping low. A pulse blast flew past his cheek Hawke flipped back fired and killed the Reaver. Was that it he wondered. Peering from the window Hawke saw Everst station come to view. Thank the heaven’s he thought as the train began to slow and the Station of Everst came to view. He looked across at Drake. “Good work.” He said holstering his Desert Eagle. Hawke went to check the convoy and found them all well he returned to the carriage and watched as the station came to view and the train came to a stop moments later once entering the station. Hawke stepped off and onto the platform glad to be stood one something unmoving the cold instantly hit him in the face as the snow still fell.
Major Morgenson stepped onto the platform to great Captain Hawke his hand held out Hawke took it and both clasp in a shake. “You made it then.” Morgenson asked. “We lost three two on the train. I lost a ghost Gaston and an Orlock Helena. We about ready for a night’s rest then we’ll head back. Some of the train crew have fallen also.” Hawke explained. The major watched as the other’s stepped off the train his guards lowered their weapons in a mark of respect. “The bars open you can all stay in the guest quarters. They are just outside from the bar. On a night it can get loud here so don’t expect a quiet night.” The Major said addressing the team. Hawke walked past and headed for the Bar the building was L shaped and had an arced roof very classy in design and made from logs. Smoke came from the chimney telling Hawke the inside was warm. He stepped in opening the door taking a Cigar he order a glass of whiskey from the old bar tender lit his Cigar and removed his coat feeling the comfort of a warm bar. By the wall in the centre was an old fashioned fire with logs nicely burning away. Hawke sat by the bar and took the bottle while enjoying his Cigar.
After watching a handshake and a small exchange of words between Hawke and the Major, he decided he needed to get the hell off that train immediately. He followed behind Hawke, observing the men with their arms down to allow a safe passage. Artie nodded at the men to return the respect they showed him. When Hawke took his coat off, Artie followed suit, and sat next to him at the bar. The Captain had some kind of bottle. That was a good idea, but Artie wasn't sure if he should drink that much for the night. Then again, he heard the Major say there wouldn't be much quiet that night, so maybe he should enjoy himself. Maybe he'll get some time with Mika and let her see how good of a guy he really is. He needed to talk to Chris too, but Chris needed to talk to Eve even more, so hopefully Chris will take care of that. Then Artie could try to smooth it over with his Roughneck brother later. After arranging those thoughts, which was uncharacteristic of Artie, he ordered a sour mash from the bar. His bandaged hand reached out to grab the glass, which he clinked with Hawke's bottle. "Helluva day, huh, Captain Hawke?" he said to his leader.
"Helluva day, huh, Captain Hawke?" Said Artie. Hawke drank his his glass and poured another. “You know something Artie. I think tomorrows gonna be a hell of a lot worse. I’d say make a good night of it. You may not live for another.” Hawke said downing another whiskey in one and pouring another. Hawke ordered another bottle for Artie and inhaled his cigar smoke and exhaled.
Steward stepped into the warm building. Heat rushing at his body making his neck hairs stand on end... this had to be one of the best feelings in his opinion. He walked in hanging his coat up on the rack, he noticed Hawke and Artie talking to each other. "Mind if i join yous?" he said placing a hand on both of their shoulders "Oh, Artie.... I GOT shot in the ass, not i shot myself.... just thought i would set ya straight" he chuckled "I can handle my gun better then most, it's my life"
The Captain's words were chilling, but Artie understood what he was saying. He nodded at the truth as it was spoken, and took the advice he was given. Hawke ordered a bottle for Artie, he nodded at the generous gesture. "Thanks, Cap." He put his head down and had a thought. Raising his head back up, he said, "You know, if this IS my last night on Earth, it's been a pleasure to work with you." Then Lewis came in. "Mind if i join yous?" he said placing a hand on both of their shoulders "Oh, Artie.... I GOT shot in the ass, not i shot myself.... just thought i would set ya straight" he chuckled "I can handle my gun better then most, it's my life" He smiled at Lewis and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Still shouldn't have happened, but it's better than doing it to yourself. Have a drink, bro."
Hawke watched both Artie and Lewis pat each other on the back. “Pull up a chair.” Hawke said his tone more relaxed now the warmth had made him comfortable. His bottle was half full and he called for another. “Whatever happens out there if we separate the important thing is the mission. We must destroy that Drill.” Hawke sighed. “A toast to Gaston the Ghost and Helena the Orlock.” He raised his glass then drank the whiskey within.
Steward raised his glass to toast the dead, "let them lie in hell, atleast then they get warm" he smiled
"I'll drink to that. To Gaston and Helena." he said before downing another glass of whiskey. He cleared his throat after that last shot. "The team's a little divided right now, we need to get our chemistry back. Hopefully liquor can be a good start of that."
Hawke smiled. "Tomorrow we'll be more devided when the big fight comes. If this is our last drink together lads. It's been an honour serving with you." Hawke said. His voice trailed of in saddness. "I'll be glad to see my wife and daughter again." Hawke Continued, a clear saddness in each word he spoke.
"I'll be glad to see my wife and daughter again." Hawke Continued, a clear saddness in each word he spoke. "If this is our last drink together, I'll be glad to get away from my wife." He said with a twisted smile.
"If this is our last drink together, I'll be glad to get away from my wife." Artie said with a twisted smile Hawke gave a half smile to Lewis. Smoking his Cigar he took another drink and watched as the others entered. "One final toast. To the team may the mission go well." Hawke said once again, his cigar balancing on his lips.
Mika lagged a bit behind Hawke, Artie, and Lewis after watching the medics strap the doctor to a gurney and bear him away. She walked alone - almost pointedly so - wondering if she should tell Hawke that she was the experimental subject of Omar's work. He hadn't been present during the discussion and she wondered if it mattered. She entered the warmth of the building and loosened her clothing, shedding the outer layers once again and thankful for being out of the cold. Going to the bar she left a few stools between she and the others as they toasted each other in case her presence was objectionable and ordered Vodka, straight up.
After drinking to the last official toast, Artie looked over to Mika who was distant. He fixed his fro and got up from the stool with his bottle. "Gentlemen, excuse me a moment." He walked over to Mika who let herself out of that fashionable parka, much to Arthur's delight. He decided there was no need to tarry, each day was precious. And now that death had them all on speed dial, it was crucial to be up front. He gets to her, his plan of being thorough is slightly compromised. Instead of chatting her up like he originally planned, he sarted off a little slow once again. "Is this seat taken?" he asked, motioning to the stool beside her.
Mika gave the stool in question a thoughtful look. "You're the first person to come for it so I guess it's yours." She gave Artie a warmish smile then returned her gaze to her drink. She sipped and set the glass down delicately. "So has Chris spoken to you at all?"
"So has Chris spoken to you at all?" After parking it, Arthur let out a sigh. "No. He must really like that Eve, it's not usually like him to be that wound up. If he really likes her, hopefully he'll go to her. We'll be okay, he's my best friend, he's just a little steamed. Besides, I've got someone else on my mind." he said as bold and quickly as possible before he lost his nerve.
Mika smiled briefly then went back to staring somewhat blankly at her drink. "Don't let me keep you, then." She was too distracted to notice that she was probably the person Artie referred to.
Artie left as Mika arrived he seemed to have set his target on her. Steward returned Hawks smiles while slapping him on the back "Well bud, it's just the two of use, just you and i" he chuckled, his eyes fixed on the red end of the cigar as it glowed "Errrrm.... mind if i try one" said Lewis in a curious tone "Never smoked, might aswell try before i die" he shrugged his shoulders. "Weird, you kind of know who's waiting for you- you know in the clouds..... Me i'm unsure, i suspect my mum and dad will be waiting for but i doubt i will ever recognise them" he smirked "ah well i don't believe in that voodoo sh*te..... you die u see the back of your eye lids"
Everything that had happened on that train had, in essence, left Spencer with a massive, gaping hole in him. But unlike any injury he had sustained before; unlike simple pain that was easy to ignore and that went away, this wound made its mark on his soul. Being looked into and seen through, hearing about the experiment, seeing the group starting to split, and then seeing Helena die brutally at the hands of the Reavers... It left him in a place of confusion and doubt. Neither emotion nor thought would give him any guidance. He was lost; unsure of what he was, what he should be. The remainder of the trip, he had sat by himself, trying in vain to make sense of the mess. When they finally stopped for what may have been the last rest they would have, he walked to the edge of the bar, taking the very edge, away from everyone. "Jack." He said when the bartender approached him. He had raised his glass fractionally when Hawke had made the toast. He sipped the whiskey once. Twice. And then he set it down. Forearms on the table, he gazed into it silently.
