terminatefate (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
terminatefate) wrote2010-04-27 06:08 pm
terminatefate) wrote2010-04-27 06:08 pm
(no subject)
April 27, 2004
LOCATION: Somewhere in Virginia
TIME: Evening
___________________________________________
In the end, it wouldn't matter that the high wind was blowing in the evening hours on a Sunday, or that there was dirt under her nails. But right now it wasn't the end of anything, not yet. It was fresh and clean and green and time was all fucked up. Information evolved, spun out of control, Judgment Day was fluid, ever changing. It was this year, it was five years from now, it was yesterday, it was now. Virginia was a stupid place to be.
The District of Columbia was forty-five minutes away by car. They were in Nowheretown, Virginia. In a backwater, nearly empty town. No one knew them, no one wanted to know them. The house had been empty for years and the police didn't really give a shit. Too dumb hick to use their heads, which suited her fine. And that was why she had her hands in the dirt coaxing up little carrot plants and growing herbs in the little garden just off the side of the deck. She made sure that they weren't choked by weeds, that they got enough light, that they were free of pests, and she got her hands dirty in the rain damp soil because she could.
The wind tugged at her dirty blonde hair as the back screen door opened.
Her hand closed around the 9mm handgun, her eyes sharp as the door swung wide.
"Easy Mom, it's just me." She didn't drop the gun until she saw he had a cup of coffee in his hands. "I dunno how you stay out here." Sarah stared at him, at the figure he cut, now, at nineteen. "It's cold and windy. Maybe you should come back inside. Forcast says it's gonna rain, again. Thunderstorm." She frowned and tucked the gun back into the waistband of her pants.
"Here," he said. "I made you coffee."
She stared at him, her throat tight, and wiped her hands off on a stained towel before taking the mug. The first sip surprised her. When had he gotten so damn good at making coffee? It was dark and rich and he'd gone through the trouble of finding milk and sugar--rare luxuries in their world. He grinned and it made her heart ache fiercely. He looked like Kyle when he smiled, when it was a real smile. She curled her fingers round the mug a little tighter.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I'm okay," she murmured. "Don't splurge on shit like this. I can drink it black."
"Black coffee is bitter as fuck, Mom," John said, sitting inches away from her. "I think, maybe you could use something that's not two steps from starvation and five into comfort." His eyes caught hers and she watched him smile again. "Y'know. Just once. It's fine, besides, there was about a dribble and a half of milk in the jug. I picked up more on my way back. Got ammo, too." He paused and her brow furrowed at the look on his face. John took the towel away and wet an end of it in the running hose before wiping at a dirt smear on her cheek.
"We leaving in the morning?" he asked in a quiet voice.
"Yeah," she said, taking the towel from him and a long sip of coffee. "Shit's packed?" John nodded. "We have to keep moving, you know."
"I know," he said, quirking a smile. "It's gonna rain."
"It's always gonna fucking rain, John," she said as he stood and reached down to help her up. Her fingers curled around his arm and their eyes locked for a moment. Maybe she smiled back, but it was small. She could tell John counted it as a minor victory.
In the distance the thunder rumbled.
LOCATION: Somewhere in Virginia
TIME: Evening
___________________________________________
In the end, it wouldn't matter that the high wind was blowing in the evening hours on a Sunday, or that there was dirt under her nails. But right now it wasn't the end of anything, not yet. It was fresh and clean and green and time was all fucked up. Information evolved, spun out of control, Judgment Day was fluid, ever changing. It was this year, it was five years from now, it was yesterday, it was now. Virginia was a stupid place to be.
The District of Columbia was forty-five minutes away by car. They were in Nowheretown, Virginia. In a backwater, nearly empty town. No one knew them, no one wanted to know them. The house had been empty for years and the police didn't really give a shit. Too dumb hick to use their heads, which suited her fine. And that was why she had her hands in the dirt coaxing up little carrot plants and growing herbs in the little garden just off the side of the deck. She made sure that they weren't choked by weeds, that they got enough light, that they were free of pests, and she got her hands dirty in the rain damp soil because she could.
The wind tugged at her dirty blonde hair as the back screen door opened.
Her hand closed around the 9mm handgun, her eyes sharp as the door swung wide.
"Easy Mom, it's just me." She didn't drop the gun until she saw he had a cup of coffee in his hands. "I dunno how you stay out here." Sarah stared at him, at the figure he cut, now, at nineteen. "It's cold and windy. Maybe you should come back inside. Forcast says it's gonna rain, again. Thunderstorm." She frowned and tucked the gun back into the waistband of her pants.
"Here," he said. "I made you coffee."
She stared at him, her throat tight, and wiped her hands off on a stained towel before taking the mug. The first sip surprised her. When had he gotten so damn good at making coffee? It was dark and rich and he'd gone through the trouble of finding milk and sugar--rare luxuries in their world. He grinned and it made her heart ache fiercely. He looked like Kyle when he smiled, when it was a real smile. She curled her fingers round the mug a little tighter.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I'm okay," she murmured. "Don't splurge on shit like this. I can drink it black."
"Black coffee is bitter as fuck, Mom," John said, sitting inches away from her. "I think, maybe you could use something that's not two steps from starvation and five into comfort." His eyes caught hers and she watched him smile again. "Y'know. Just once. It's fine, besides, there was about a dribble and a half of milk in the jug. I picked up more on my way back. Got ammo, too." He paused and her brow furrowed at the look on his face. John took the towel away and wet an end of it in the running hose before wiping at a dirt smear on her cheek.
"We leaving in the morning?" he asked in a quiet voice.
"Yeah," she said, taking the towel from him and a long sip of coffee. "Shit's packed?" John nodded. "We have to keep moving, you know."
"I know," he said, quirking a smile. "It's gonna rain."
"It's always gonna fucking rain, John," she said as he stood and reached down to help her up. Her fingers curled around his arm and their eyes locked for a moment. Maybe she smiled back, but it was small. She could tell John counted it as a minor victory.
In the distance the thunder rumbled.