The Dead World Ch. 04

"... I won't have enough here for the winter, with you all here... how long are you staying?" She thought out loud, talking to herself more than anything at this point.

The Dog shook his head again, his expression solemn. He wasn't certain. Oz had said a few weeks, but that could change in a heartbeat. He knew deep down, Charlie would be better off if she were to come with them when they left. He could, and would, keep her safe. Honestly, if no one knew she was female, Slash was likely to be her only worry... and not likely for very long. He lost interest quickly in things too well guarded that took too long to bear fruit... and if she was considered one of his own, he'd leave her be entirely.

Out of all of them, Skully was the one who preferred the long game... he had hunted down men in the past who had been members of groups who clashed with them, especially when it came to crossing territories. The scavengers and hardened stag gangs that roamed the countryside now, the recon teams for larger, dangerous groups—anyone who fired on them these days, really.

Skully would track them for days, injuring them slowly, toying with them until he finally sent them on to meet their maker. Dog didn't imagine it was a pretty sight. Skully had a sadistic streak rivaling only the psychos they ran into, and a penchant for using the ten inch hunting knife over his firearm. The group rarely saw what became of men who had fallen prey to Skully, but Dog knew that it was likely something terrible.

"I... I need to talk to Oz... can you do that for me?"

Dog smiled softly, and nodded his head. He'd fetch him without delay, for Charlie. He couldn't help the way he stared at her, now, watching her beautifully animated face glow a bit with discomfort or embarrassment as he looked down at her.

"Stop it—just... just tell him I need to speak with him, please—are those my goggles?" She had finally noticed, and it was at this point Dog whipped out the notepad, scribbling upon it quickly before he held it up for her to read. 'Borrowed without permission.' She rolled her eyes, wanting to demand he give them back. They had been Matt's, after all... though... looking at Dog, she had to admit they did rather suit him. She had done a similar thing to him and might have still had his knife if he hadn't noticed she'd swiped it from him on their first meeting.

"You're not keeping them." She informed him, watching as he began to write once more, and held the note up. 'Come tonight?' She frowned ever so slightly, and glanced away from him nervously. She didn't want him there at all... but to deny him may not make any difference. She shook her head and looked back up to meet his gaze.

"...Tomorrow. Today, I need to talk to Oz, and I want to be alone after that." He nodded his head slowly, flicking the spent cigarette carelessly to the hall. It didn't matter much that it was there in all honesty—the glamor and appeal of the half-functioning resort had lost its charm by now. Dog started down the hallway soundlessly to head toward the stairs to seek out Oz, and Charlotte began back to her room, and closed the door quietly behind her. Her chest felt tight. She tugged her beanie from her head as she slid down to sit right where she was, her back pressed to the solid wood door, eyes slipping shut.

Stick to the plan. Steal the fucking Hummer and get as far the fuck away from this place as possible...