Til death do us part (Madison / Open)

When he had too, Zane got his hands dirty. he was an excellent fighter. Proficient in hand to hand combat and even more efficient at killing the deadlegs. He dispatched them quietly. He didn't want to risk a gunshot. He didn't want to draw more of them over, and he didn't want to scare the person inside. He was hoping to introduce himself.

Zane had waited and watched quietly from outside. He had a decent vantage point from where he stood. He sighed and took a deep breath. He was never nervous. Not around women. His delusions led him to believe that he was irresistible. His ego was not so easily damaged by rejection. It rolled off his shoulders like drops of rain after as a summer shower.

Zane ran his hand through his hair one last time before reaching for the door handle. Across the street Madison watched from behind a building. Biding her time. Holding off until the right moment to try and steal that bike. That was her ticket out of here. Zane moved with swift confidence. He pulled the door open and the bell above it made a soft jingle.

He knew whoever was inside would have heard the bell. He stepped inside and his pace slowed down. He was cautious. "Hello?" He called out softly. There was a slight panic in his voice. Practiced and purposeful. The door to the office was open. He could see the woman inside. He saw her long and slender legs. The satisfying curve of her hips. Her skin looked soft. Loving. Desirable.

Zane licked his lips. "Hey! Easy. I come in peace." He actually smiled at how corny that came out sounding. Like a bad cliché from a horrible movie. "Man it's good to see another living person." He said. Zane's clothes were not dirty. He looked for the most part well put together. Fit. "My uh.... My name's Zane." He offered. Zane didn't move past the door way. He didn't want to spook her. He offered her a small sheepish smile. He had his AK-47 hanging over his shoulder, but he didn't reach for it.

You never knew what someone was like these days. How they reacted to strangers could be a flip of the coin. Someone could greet you with a smile, but they could just as easily put a bullet in your head. He really hoped it wasn't the latter. For the moment his search for his wife was on hold. He couldn't do much right now anyways.

It wasn't the first time a gun had been pointed at Zane.  Maybe the first time it had been pointed in this particular region, but he was sure more than a few would have enjoyed the gesture.  Despite the circumstance  Zane's expression remained uninspired.  There was a vacant expression on his face.  Not fear, or anger or even panic.  She thought she knew.  She thought she had her finger on the trigger, but she really had her finger on the self destruct button.  She could try.  He thought he recognized a slight tremble in her hand.  The kind you make when you're nervous about holding a gun on a stranger.  He had held more than guns and he did it with a toothy grin.

You see, Zane basked in the pleasure of other's suffering.  If you were being quite honest, their pain sexually excited him.  There was a madman's twinkle in his eye for a moment, but as quick as it came it had left.  He listened to her demands, her calling him on his bullshit and true enough it was bullshit.  It had been two weeks since Paige had escaped.  Two weeks since his men stitched up his neck with a shaky unsteady hand.  The stitch work was not armature , but by no means was it perfection.  He listened quietly.  The vacant expression still unsettlingly present where fear should have resided.

Even if Zane was a sane enough to be afraid of a threat, it did him no good to show that fear.  It only made him play from a place of weakness.  Zane sighed.  As if he were bored by her speech.  "And here I thought we were going to be good friends." He said in an oh well sort of sarcastic tone.  Zane slowly, and carefully took the rifle from his shoulder.  He did not let his eyes leave hers for a second.  He did not allow a single twitch of his facial features.  He stared at her deadpan.  Unnerving was the word Madison would have used.  The way he always seemed to be thinking even when he said nothing.  He quietly studied her.  Zane's eyes met hers with an intensity.  He pulled the magazine and placed it down on the table.  He went about disassembling the rest

He removed the bolt cover and the bolt spring inside with practiced speed.  The cleaning rod came out next. Each piece he disassembled he placed on the table.  Within 30 seconds the gun was in several pieces, useless to both of them.  She already had a shotgun.  He would be damned if she got his weapon too.  He had named her.  It was personal.  Having another person wield this weapon was the same as someone seeing his wife naked.  It was a violation to him.  Zane was mentally ill.  A sociopath.  They lied with the best of them, and when caught in a lie they moved to the next just as convincingly as the truth. Sociopaths lied so often and so well that even they sometimes had trouble distinguishing truth from lie.  So little miss paranoid didn't believe a thing he said.

Pretty lady traveling alone? Was it a wonder she was so jumpy?  The vacant expression fell  from his face had finally faded to something more decidedly unamused as he emptied his pockets.  A gold pocket watch from his inner coat pocket it.  He held it in front of his face and admired it as if it were the last time he was ever going to see it before placing it on the table.  Then he pulled a box cutter from his other pocket.  Through all of this he hadn't said a word.  He just silently obeyed.  He was used to being the dom.  Submissive was not in his nature.  It felt alien to him, but he enjoyed it actually.  Obeying someone else's commands.  He held the box cutter out for her to examine it.  The blade was concealed by the end of it was still covered in blood. "Attempted suicide if you must know.  Woke up with this shitty stitch job.  Why?  Fuck if I know.  I took it as a sign."  He placed the box cutter down.  "Do you believe in destiny?" He asked turning out his pockets for her satisfaction.

He showed her that the rest of his pockets were empty.  He had disarmed himself completely and moved freely around the room.  Showing her he didn't truly fear her shotgun based retribution.  Why would someone who attempted suicide care if someone had a gun on them?  Though the suicide attempt was yet another lie he looked away and paused at just the right moments to sell the pain behind it.  He didn't keep eye contact anymore.  He looked around the room quietly taking in his surroundings as he ambled about.  His fingers danced and glided along dusty shelves.  He picked up a picture of the owner off the wall and studied it.

His back was too the stranger now.  "I believe in destiny." He said.  "For some reason I'm still here.  Have to be.  Wouldn't make since for me to survive that just for you to blast me away for no reason.  The logic just doesn't make sense."  He said quietly.  Zane turned around and looked at her again.  His eyes were soft.  A sort of sorrow seemed to slow dance in the iris of his eye.  For the first time he actually looked human.  Vulnerable.   "There's no one outside those doors aside from maybe a few deadlegs limping around.  Poke your head out there if you don't believe me.  But if you're done with the dramatics I'd really like one of those keys."  He pointed to the wall of room keys behind her.  "And a decent night's sleep.  I'm looking for someone.  And if you try stop me from finding her you're going to have to pull that trigger." He said confidently.

There was a quiet desperation to his voice.  Zane licked his lips and looked at her with sad eyes.  His eyes were not deceiving.  At least in the way she thought.  He was truly sad thinking about how much this delay was holding him up from finding Madison.  This one didn't seem to be the trusting sort.  And he was honestly tired.  A short nap would be invited as he weighed his options.  He wasn't sure this one was worth the trouble.  He liked that she had fight in her.  It was always fun to break their spirits in the beginning. But he was torn between finding Madison and humbling this cocky bitch.  Though the wheels turned his face still pleaded desperate.

Vincent had been driving for what seemed like days. He only stopped to go to the bathroom for him and Rosco. The former Army medic put a cd on that was just titled "Greatest Hits", it was a gift from Max before he left and he was given a few more cds but he decided to put this on for a change as the silence was driving him a bit stir crazy. Rosco sat in the passenger seat and Vincent turned to his companion with a smirk. "Well let's see how good this is." said Vincent to Rosco who wagged his tail for a moment.






The music came on and as Vincent heard the first few seconds of the song a huge smile appeared on his face while his one eyed companion tilted his head. "This is a classic Rosco!" said Vincent to Rosco who kept his head tilted for a few moments before laying down in the passenger seat. Vincent just shook his head lightly at his companion before turning his eyes back on the road. "You will appreciate it when you are older." said Vincent to Rosco. Vincent knew the dog couldn't understand him but what the hell was he going to do while driving alone? Sure he helped people along the way patched up them up and then left but he wasn't one to have company. He didn't want to get attached to people it was easier for him to do his job help them out and then leave. The last thing he wanted was to build a relationship only for it to be snatched away from him. All he needed was Rosco and he pet his companion for a moment as he kept his eyes on the road. 

He pulled off to the side of the road and he was in a wooded area. "Alright Rosco I'm going to get some food while you go do your business." said Vincent to Rosco who just looked at him. Vincent opened his door and as he did he closed it walking over to the passenger side so Rosco could hop out. Once Rosco hopped out Vincent closed the passenger door and he walked to the back of the truck. He opened it and moved the first duffel bag over that had his clothes and then the FN FAL that normally just in the back that he hardly used. He had his Chiappa Rhino 50DS in his holster and his Heckler & Koch MP5K-PDW which he had hanging on his side from a strap. He finally reached his backpack and opened it. He pulled out a can of peaches and a can of dog food. "Yo Rosco!" said Vincent as he tried to call out his dog. "Must be taking care of business still." thought Vincent. He open the can of peaches with his trench knife and he started to dig in. Rosco was going to the bathroom in the woods when he started to sniff the air and that's when he could smell gas from a nearby vehicle. Someone else was close and his curious got the best of him so he decided to follow the smell. Within a few minutes he found two girls and one of them was in pain and could see that she was crying. Rosco stared at the two girls for a moment as he was being cautious yet he was curious as well.