(Originally written Sunday, October 26, 2003)
Chapter VI:
Holding his side tightly, Cream made his way out of the alley and back to the front of the building. Evidence of the previous firefights was strewn about everywhere: bullet holes, casings, and large areas pooled with blood.
"Noug'?" he said into his radio, "Noug' ya there?" After a long silence, Cream finally got a response in the form of a low moan.
"Alley... garbage... bullet... ouch..."
Having just come out of an empty alley, Cream went back to the building where their post was. There, he saw Nougat step out, clutching his chest.
"I feel like I just got chewed up and spit out," he muttered before falling into Cream's chest.
"Oh geez!" Cream quickly laid the shot man on the street and frantically worked to get the zipper on the now-holed jacket down. "Just... hang on, you're gonna be alright!" Cream said, befitting the current situation.
"Whelp, easy..." Nougat replied, pushing Cream's arm away with one hand and unzipping his jacket with the other. Cream finally saw the point of impact; Nougat's shirt was burned clean through... and the bullet was compacted into a flattened disk of jacketed lead. "Remind me to write a 'thank you' letter to Stephanie Kwolek after all this... help me up, already..."
The two battered men looked at what was left of everything before the building.
"They got 'Mel?" Nougat asked.
"Yeah." Cream answered.
"No way of tracking the van?"
"Not really."
"Everyone that probably wouldn't help us anyway is dead?"
"Every one..." Nougat sighed - Cream scratched the back of his head... then started rubbing it... "every one except one! Noug', follow me!" Nougat was puzzled but still went after Cream, who was running back into the apartment complex, towards the stairwell...
"Holy crap!" Nougat exclaimed, wiping off some of the blood off on Cream's sleeve. "you did this?!" Cream smiled sheepishly.
"Well... he was kicking my ass, so... hey, what am I making excuses for? At least mine's alive!" Nougat was about to respond to that when the two of them heard sirens in the distance.
"Gunfire in a residential area," Nougat thought out loud, "boys in blue aren't exactly a surprise. Guess we take ol' headache-guy and interrogate him at the station?"
"No, we can't do that," Cream said, "for 'Mel's sake, we don't have that kind of time..."
As they thought of what they could do, they carried the unconscious Pi to the back alley.
"Okay, I've got it," Nougat said, "there's a closed-down club about five blocks down from here. We'll take care of our boy there." Nougat patted the bloodied man softly as Cream spoke.
"Alright, so how do you propose we get this guy five blocks without getting picked up by the cops who might not think much of the plan to drag a bleeding perp' away for irregular interrogation?"
"I'm workin' on it! Let's just start heading that way..." Nougat readjusted the man who was lying outstretched between Cream and himself. "And another thing: can you wrap up his head or something? He's bleeding all over me..." Cream grinned as the put him down. "I swear, Whelp, you can't put yourself in anything without causing a huge mess..."
