Boots on the Ground


abby_icon.gif barbara_icon.gif darla_icon.gif kaylee2_icon.gif tasha_icon.gif

Scene Title Boots on the Ground
Synopsis The Ferry surveys what's left of the Thompson Commune and makes a series of morbid discoveries.
Date July 27, 2010

Thompson Commune

Squat wooden fences and sturdy old houses covered in peeling white paint and creeping ivy define the Thompson Commune, abandoned except for a small herd of Nubian goats that freely roams the property and grazes on the weeds growing out from the tall grass. In the absence of their people, they've already helped themselves to the community garden and stripped it bare of the fat red tomatoes, veiny lettuce and wart-like cucumbers that are in season this time of year, but are too short to reach the plumbs beginning to ripen on the branches of the trees outside what looks like it might have been the clinic.

A rusty swing set creaks in the same breeze that ripples through the leaves. This, the chattering of the garden sparrows and the occasional rattle of a bell around one of the goats' necks, are the only sounds in the cool summer air, though it isn't difficult to imagine the squeal of children or the rumble of a tractor engine somewhere in the distance.

Joined at the edge of the commune by Darla Hurst, sent ahead to assist them at Bennet's request, Abigail's small group looks out over what ultimately amounts to a graveyard. In the distance, strung between two wooden poles, a line of laundry waves soundlessly back at them.

If there are answers here, they'll have to search for them.

'Could have mistaken them for mennonites possibly, just by the look of this place" Abigail murmurs as they finally make their way after a plane trip and vehicle drive. The commune spread before them, forefinger and middle scratch at her left temple. "Lets take one building at a time, see what we can find. Keep an eye out for the tricks we carry in the state, hidden room, hidden cellars, all that. I wish Bennet had given us a floor plan" Her hand drifts down from her temple to rub at the back of her neck then settles on her hip around her sweater tied there. "Kaylee, ping the commune will you? See if there's anything registering?" Order issued, couched as a request. Single ping Sir!

Crouched down to pet a little black goat, Tasha glances around and shivers. The place looks like people will step out of the buildings, collect the laundry on the line, or pick tomatoes any moment; juxtaposed to that view is the silence, nothing but goat bells and birds chirping and their own footfalls on the ground. "If they're hiding, if you find someone, if it's one of ours, let them know somehow we're friends, maybe," she says softly. "I donno how you can tell, if it's us or not us, but I assume you can…" She doesn't know how the Telepath's ability works, Kaylee being the first that she's met, and every power is different, unique to the bearer.

"That is eerie." Kaylee murmurs where she stands with the others, a hand lifted to shade her light eyes from the sunlight. Strands of hair, tugged free from the braid laying between her shoulder, tickle at her cheek as a gust blows through. "I mean… really eerie." Voice kept low as if to talk louder would bring about bad things.

The order gets a slow side to side head bob as she concider what Abby wants. "I need to get down in there to do it effectively." She states looking at the others. She's wearing the same set of jeans from yesterday and the same hoodie, but the tank top she's wearing is bright red and tourist-y. "My range is getting better… but…" She trails off and takes a few step forward. Eyes slide shut as she tries to hear the humming. Hands slide out of her pocket and Kaylee lifts them palm out near her chest and slowly pushes out and slowly spreads them out… as if pushing her field of listening to it's extent.

Moving a little further, she finally drops her hands and shakes her head. Backing up, Kaylee gives a little shrug. "I can't cover all of it, but what I can… there is nothing."

Tasha's goat dips its head and, stepping forward, presses its face into her shoulder. When it does, its hoof hits something dense that produces a sharp metal sound. Closer inspection determines that the object in question is a small gray canister with a red stripe around the middle. It hasn't been hidden in the grass long enough to develop any rust, and it doesn't appear to have a label, but if Tasha looks closely, she might notice the filmy yellow residue clinging to its lip.

The closest building to the fence at their backs is a two-story house with a sagging porch and potted flowers hanging from its support beams. Its front door has been left open, leaving only a flimsy mesh screen in the frame, and although this screen was designed with mosquitoes in mind, it seems to have acted as a deterrent against the goats as well.

"Y'all got your guns, you better get em out" Abby will opt to be the bright sunshine ambassador of friendliness and rainbows with her lack of weaponry. They'll work from the closest in at least as her work boots clomp across the grass, a hand coming up onto the porch and hauling herself up on it in lieu of using the actual steps.

Once up though, there's a glance behind her shoulder towards others while she creeps up to the door, rapping on it. Kaylee's telepathy may count everyone, may not, can't hurt to be cautious. "Hello? I'm looking for Charon? Is anyone here?"

"What do you have there, Billy?" Tasha asks, dubbing the small animal a little unoriginally, and for want of a real name. She picks up the can and turns it, frowning a touch. She recognizes it as well, and glances up and around. "Negation gas, yeah?" she says, holding it up and handing it to Darla for a better look. "Good thing you didn't eat that, Billy."

At Abby's words, she stands, pulling the small firearm she carries from her waistband and moving to follow Abby toward the house.

The telepath follows Abby, her hand reaching behind her to pull the gun from where it sits at her back. At the mention of negation gas, Kaylee pauses so she can turn enough to look back at Tasha with the canister. "Well… I don't know of many groups that use that." Her tone bland.

Catching up to Abby, Kaylee rests to one side of the door, just in case, setting her shoulder against the wall. The weapons cradled in both hands, finger laying alongside the trigger. Much like Tasha, she's had weapons training with Raith. Her head tilts just a little as she listens inside the house just in case.

Darla doesn't unholster a gun, but that's not to be confused with any intention of sunshine and rainbows; she's not an atmokinetic, for one. Her choice of clothes today are a deep green tee and well-worn blue jeans, curly hair flouncing as she sidles along the porch, peering through the windows — so much as any draperies might allow. Her attention, however, is caught and held by the corner pole framing the porch's boundaries, lips pursing thoughtfully as she assesses the architecture. "I'll go up, I think," the dark woman muses aloud for her companions' benefit. "Meet you all inside." Climbing onto the rail and swarming up the pole, Darla meanwhile tests the second-floor windows for easy entry.

The only answer Abigail's knock receives is the buzzing of an insect trapped behind a pane of glass somewhere inside. Through the screen, an upright piano placed against a bare brick wall in the front room is clearly visible along with a wood-burning stove and scattered pieces of furniture with faded upholstery, including a paisley loveseat and matching armchair, a discarded book left folded open on its seat.

What Darla finds on the second floor tells the same story. Sparsely furnished bedrooms are exactly as their inhabitants left them, cozy and lived-in. One of them has a Hannah Montana poster taped to the flowery wallpaper above the bed and a series of framed photographs propped up on the night stand beside it, most of them depicting an olive-skinned teen and her friends in their soccer uniforms, but there's a picture or two of her with her arms around a shaggy old border collie as well.

"Sweep again Kaylee would you?" Likely to be the same result. "Just this house" The screen door creaking open as the younger blonde lsips in, starting to take the rooms one by one on the bottom floor with the others so that it can be sweeped quickly. Institute for sure if the negation cannister was any hint. "We'll want to round up the goats, pen them up and call the local animal services or see if there's another safehouse nearby that can take them. Can't leave them out here to the local wildlife" She's already running the report through her mind back to the council.

The gun in her hand, Tasha follows, glancing at the book on the armchair, looking for any sign or clue, fingers trailing the walls and eyes watching the floor for any hints of trap doors or secret passages — something that might be the way into a panic room of sorts. "Kaylee, do you know if, like, a bomb shelter or whatever, if the thicker walls or lead or whatever they use in those places, does that have an effect on your power? I mean, not to be dumb, but how Superman can't see through lead? If someone's hiding in a cellar or panic room or something like that, is it possible you wouldn't detect them?" she asks, moving a hall closet to peer inside.

Already way ahead of Abby on that front, Kaylee shakes her head. "Nothing." The answer following shortly after the other's question. Holding the door open long enough for her to slip in, the telepath moves with the council woman.

Tasha's question has Kaylee pausing, looking bemused at the question. "You know… I'm not sure. I haven't noticed a difference yet?" Is the only answer she can really give her. There haven't been enough situations to test it.

Finding one of the windows unlocked, Darla slides the lower pane up and ducks within. She surveys the room, picking up one of the photos featuring that collie, thumb brushing idly across the frame's surface. Still holding it, hand dropping down by her side, the aerokinetic leaves the bedroom and looks around the others — not that they contain much, nor does the whole of the floor for that matter. But there is one thing… "Looks like there's an attic," Darla calls down the stairs, leaning against the rail. "Not much else up here."

"Who wants to go into the spooky attic?" Murmurs Abby, finding nothing that she thinks is of note, and with a sweep of her hands, gestures up the stairs towards where Darla waits. "This seemed like a nice place in actuality. This is going to hurt the Ferry. Make sure you keep an ear out for anyone coming into your area Kaylee"

And just like that, the black goat, and the piano are left alone, as the search heads to upstairs into the attic.

"Um. Go ahead," Tasha says, peering up the stairs. The attic is probably not very big, and if someone is in it, well, there's not going to be that much room. Or at least that's what she tells herself. "I'll stand here in just in case someone follows us in…" or in case someone comes out. She stands sideways so she can keep both the upstairs hall and the front door in her eyeline.

Darla doesn't seem to find the attic spooky. At any rate, while the others are migrating up the staircase, she gets the attic stairs pulled down and sets her feet to them. Nothing immediately jumps out and grabs her, so the aerokinetic clears the steps for the others to come up and applies herself to finding a light switch. …Or a pull-chain, which Darla manages to not actually see until it all but hits her in the forehead; harder to miss when it's less than an inch from her eyes. "Woah, hello. Okay, lights… on." Click.

A solitary lightbulb does not provide much illumination for Darla to see, but she doesn't require more than faint glow to see what's hanging from the rafters — and from Abigail's position by the bottom of the stairs, she will too. Three bodies with nooses fitted around their necks, two big and one small, occupy the space between the attic's ceiling and floor. The sweltering summer heat has sped up the decomposition process, turning skin to shriveled parchment paper, but it's the smell that's the worst, and it isn't long at all before it's wafting down the attic's ladder and the stairs that separate the first floor from the second.

Not everyone at the Thompson Commune evaded capture by slipping away. This family chose another avenue of escape.

Downstairs, Kaylee senses it first. A vague tickling sensation that brushes against her psychic periphery. It's not much of a warning — within moments, she and Tasha will hear the sound of footsteps crunching down the gravel path that winds around the side of the house outside, the noise accompanied by a pair of voices carried to their ears on the breeze.

"What do you think?"

"Probably just a couple of local college kids, but let me do the talking on this one. We have what we came for."

They got one of these before. 9-1-1 call that ended up with her and Peter walking in to a family and their dead grandparent. Not. Nice.

Abigail's head pops up enough to just ascertain how many people and the method of exntinguishment before she's backing up, her nose buried in the crook of her arm. "Three, dead. They hung themselves instead of letting the Institute take them. We'll probably want to get them down at some point before we go" Bury them proper.

"Shit." Tasha hears the sound and whispers, as loud as she dares, "We've got company!" up the stairs toward the attic, not sure if it will carry. "They know we're here!" she adds, her eyes then darting back to Kaylee. "Can you tell if they're … friendly? You can make sure they don't shoot us or anything, right?" she whispers more quietly, no need for that to travel up the flight of steps. The small presses herself against the wall of the stairwell, lowering down so she can see the door but at a glance, anyone entering wouldn't see her as easily. The gun is held cautiously, as she waits for Kaylee's answer. After all, Tasha is the newbie. She will take orders from the others.

At the sound, Kaylee looks upward. Abby! People coming. The words loud through the other blonde's head, even as Tasha calls up. Then she's tucking away her handgun away, a risk but she's taking it, and motions Tasha to stay hidden even as she ducks into one of the rooms on that level. As those voices approach the house, the telepath is sneaking a listen to their thoughts, see who they are and maybe whatever it was they came for.

Any discussion of the bodies or what to do with them is quickly suspended in the face of unwanted company. "Get down to the second floor," Darla tells Abby, a hand on her shoulder encouraging the medic to move quickly. "We'll just get pinned up here." And she'd like to get clear of the stairs before any trouble happens, also.

Two men of similar height and build fill the doorway. In their sharp black suits and tinted glasses, they could be anyone — FBI, CIA, some other shady government acronym synonymous with mysterious disappearances. Neither agent is wearing a badge, but the fairer of the pair is slipping a clear plastic bag into his jacket while his partner raps knuckles against the door frame.

"Hey," he calls into the house, not yet stepping inside. "You ladies are aware that this is private property?" But what Kaylee hears is: Fucking Harper. Way to make everybody else's job more difficult, asshole.

Down. Down to the second floor. Abigail puts some bounce into her step as she goes, a glance to the other two before bounding down the stairs. The drawl when it comes from her mouth is as if she were right back home, instead of the slightly watered down version that the girls have heard all along.

"Really? Because We were told by folks in town that this was a mannerni.. mannow… what's it called again? The kinda farm where they wear the little white meshy hats and the black skirts. Menno.. Mennonites! That's right! Only there's none here! Do you know if they all done just moved and left their little goats here? Poor things must be staaarving"

Towards the screen door she goes, endearing and friendly smile all, all southern comfort and hospitality. "Oh my, have we done gone and tresspassed? My momma will be spitting mad with me"

Brown eyes fly open as Abby goes bounding down the stairs by her, but Tasha stays where she is, hidden and crouched, just in case the men try to do something to Abby, or Kaylee, who stands somewhere between the two. Her hand curls around the gun, cradling it in her lap, her face pressed against the cool wall of the stairwell. Her heart is pounding and she prays to a god she does not believe in, Please God, let them go away.

Blonde brows lift as she continues to listen, eyes narrowing. What is it they got? Since Abby is leading this gig, the telepath's voice slips through Abby's head. Ever heard of a Harper? The blonde doesn't recall the name at all if it was ever said to her and normally she has a better memory for things like that.

Even as Abby engages them, Kaylee stays in the room she's in a little longer listening, brows furrowed in concentration. Tasha's thoughts tickle at the corner of her brain, but they are ignored for the two men just on the other side of the wall from her.

Darla blinks in some surprise as Abby bypasses the second floor altogether and heads for the front door. "Oh no," she murmurs, more to herself than those in the room with her for all that the two words are audible enough at that range. Stepping off the attic stairs, she takes the time to fold them back up and stow the apparatus away, a possibly irrelevant illusion of having been left untouched.

From behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, one of the agents arches a brow at Abigail. "Yeah," he says, "well. The RCMP's going to spit even more if they catch you out here. These buildings are off-limits."

"We don't want to write you kids up," his partner cuts in, "but let's take a walk back to your car and have a look at your license and registration…"

This was not exactly what Barbara had been expecting to find here, tonight. She had never truly left the area around the Thompson Commune, laying low in the event any of the escaped denizens of the Commune had returned - or in the event that the Institute, for whatever reason, decided to start poking back around the area.Finding what appeared to be both at the same time was not exactly what she had counted on.

She was trying her best to be quiet as she watched. She'd never really been trained or prepared thoroughly for this sort of thing, so she was playing it by ear - something indicated by the heavy shotgun she holds tight in her grip as she walks out from between two houses across the way. She had found it elsewhere on the Commune, and its steel build felt heavy in her hands, and with slightly unsteady hands she holds it up as she approaches from behind, quiet as she can manage. Insitute, there was no doubt. Her expression hardens, grip on the shotgun retightened as she apparoaches from behind. One of them barely even has had time to finish the word "registration" before she loudly and awkwardly pumps it behind him.

"Don't move."

Desmond Harper. Institute. Keeping it short and sweet for the telepath. "You're not the RCMP? Oh thank the lord for that. I thought they wore the silly striped pants and red but you nev- Oh my lord" There's Niki. Wait, no, likely Jessica. The surprise on her face therefore, is genuine as blond brows go up and she tenses with hands splayed. Jessica's here. The hell is Jessica doing here. "Oh my lord"

What's the RCPM? Tasha thinks, deliberately, which is probably a shout in Kaylee's brain, but she hasn't worked with a telepath before. But then there is a woman with a shotgun angled at one of the agents. Tasha's eyes widen and she lifts her own gun, aiming it at the other of the two men, though from her hidden spot, which she's perfectly content to keep hidden. Of course, with a clear shot of the agent, it means he would just have to look up a bit to see her but she has the favor of the dim stairwell on her side, while he stands in the sunny doorway.

Oh wonderful, they are all the way out there still. Grimacing, Kaylee shakes her head at her luck. There isn't really much time to worry about it, when she hears a new voice. "What the…" Kaylee trails off softly in a whisper and moves towards the door.


The word echo's in Abby's head before Kaylee steps out from the room, mainly to test to see if she is recognized by the Institute agents. She was told she was protected, so she doesn't pull her gun, instead she tucks her hands in her back pockets.

There aren't a lot of sounds that can be mistaken for a shotgun. One of the agents turns his head just enough to glimpse Barbara's silhouette in the corner of his vision. His mouth twitches up around a sharp, mirthless smile. "Now Miss," he says slowly, cautiously. "There's no need to resort to violence."

It's a sentiment that his partner may or may not share. The other agent flexes his fingers, but keeps his arms lax at his sides, saying nothing, his eyes shifting between Abigail and Tasha's shadow on the stairwell. When Kaylee steps out into view, she too receives a glance.

Anyone who has a clear enough view to be able to see Barbara's face can see the uneasy look on her face as she holds the shotgun up. "It's probably a little late for that," she says with a hint of anger. She closes her eyes and sighs - she knows how this ends, she was there when they raided the safehouse.

She doesn't pull the trigger. Instead, the butt of the shotgun is slammed into the base of the neck belonging to the man in front of her, she hopes with enough strength to put him on the ground at least momentarily. She was uncomfortable with actuallyfiring the weapon, at least for the moment.

"Says the institute" Abigail mutters just before she starts in on the other agent, using the maneuvers that Xiu spent many an afternoon in the park teaching her. Aim a fist at the face, follow through with a knee to the groin, hope the girls will cover her with their weapons and pray she does't start to go on fire. For all that she's starting to warm up. Mister Bennet is a big fat lier.

When the man looks her way, Tasha's breath catches in her throat, and she lifts the weapon. Though now with Abby fighting, there's not much she can do without risking an injury to the Southern Ferrywoman. She rises on the steps, coming down two so that she can stand, her weapon held and ready should the man in combat break away from Abby and pose a threat that the others on the ground floor can't handle. Her eyes flicker from Barbara to Abby and over to Kaylee, and she bites down on her lower lip, waiting for the time to act or for it all to be over. Preferably the latter.

When the man looks her way, Tasha's breath catches in her throat, and she lifts the weapon. Though now with Abby fighting, there's not much she can do without risking an injury to the Southern Ferrywoman. She rises on the steps, coming down two so that she can stand, her weapon held and ready should the man in combat break away from Abby and pose a threat that the others on the ground floor can't handle. Her eyes flicker from Barbara to Abby and over to Kaylee, and she bites down on her lower lip, waiting for the time to act or for it all to be over. Preferably the latter.

Stepping up alongside Abby, Kaylee doesn't even blink as Abby and the stranger go into action, a slightly amused look on her face really. Her hands slip from her pocket to grab her gun again and bring it around to try and discourage any actions on their parts. "Don't brain them too hard." She says to the women for a brief glance before looking at the two men. "Be nice to know what they came here for."

Eyes flick to their pocket. "Should check their pockets." Kaylee's gaze lifts to the agent's faces, watching them and their thoughts. Best to be forewarned.

As Abby closes in, the agent's hand flicks up, fingers splayed. Institute is the magic work, apparently. There's a low, sonorous boom, and the blonde is abruptly hurled off her feet and into the upright piano with a discordant clamour of musical notes. His other hand goes out, palm open and pointed in Kaylee and Tasha's general direction, though nothing happens to them — yet.

At the same time, his partner is pivoting around to face Barbara, a high kick aimed at the barrel of her shotgun. It's a little late. He catches it to his neck and slams a shoulder into the door frame, one leg buckled beneath him, the other scrabbling for better footing.

Barbara can't help but grimace - this certainly could have been handled a bit more gracefully. As the shotgun connects with the Institute handler, it slips a little in her hand, loosening her grip and weakening her blow just the littlest bit. The shotgun in drawn awkwardly back, the barrel aimed forward again as the man stumbles back and into the door.

There was no mincing words - or in the case, actions - anymore. Barbara takes a half step back and closes her eyes again as she turns to the man who just threw back the women in the building, and squeezes the trigger, the kickback forcing her back another half step back. She curses, rather loudly as she tries to steady the weapon again.

That is going to leave marks. Lots of marks along her body that she'll end up looking in the mirror at and wincing later while trying to hide it from Peter and at work. There's a look of surprise as she goes flying through the air, crashing down onto the piano and a second later, there's heat coming coming off of her, roiling in waves, clothing smoking, precursor to Abigail's impending state. "get out" Abby yells when she manages to suck in air from her landing, desiring not to burn her colleagues down.

Institute guys however, she'll be happy to let them be singed. Possibly burned. The more the better frankly.

When the one agent flings Abby, Tasha's down a few more steps, aiming her gun at the man as he turns toward Kaylee and herself, but then the strange blonde woman is already shooting at him, so she trains her weapon on the man writhing from the pistolwhip to the shoulder, trying to steady her hand to shoot him if she must — but then there's the warning from Abby, their conversation the night before foreshadowing this moment.

"Shit shit shit, calm down," she yells as she scrambles the rest of the way down the stairs and for the front door. The back door, if there is one, would maybe be smarter, as she has to run by the man felled by Barbara, but logic isn't the foremost on her mind as she sees Abby begin to smoke and smolder.

As soon as Abby is hit, Kaylee fires two shots at the man who sent her flying, she does it without blinking. It's risky, but hesitation would be a very bad thing right now. Of course, with Barbara doing the same thing, it may be over kill.

Of course, it takes only a moment to remember what Abby said, when Kaylee suddenly smells something burning, the blondes eyes widen. "Shit…" The men are not forgotten, but they become low priority as she hurries with Tasha for the front door, as she passes the stranger, she reaches out to try and pull her with. Trust me… The words echo in Barbara's head. Run!

The air between Kaylee and the telekinetic agent ripples with unseen energy. He snaps his hand into a fist, bringing both the bullets to an abrupt stop a few inches from his face where they hover suspended for the duration of a single breath. Another swift gesture has them slamming back into her.

Unfortunately, he's also made the mistake of trusting his felled partner to disarm Barbara, and while he might've been prepared to use his ability to reverse the trajectory of any bullets Tasha or Kaylee fired at him, he can do absolutely nothing to defend himself from a shotgun blast from behind. It rips through his back, mangling his spine, and lands him in a bloodied heap, dead before he hits the floor.

One bullet punches through Kaylee's shoulder. The other enters the right side of her chest and does not come out the other side.

When the man hits the floor, Kaylee's telepathic words are echoing in Barbara's head, her eyes widening. She takes another step back, shotgun still trained on the remaining man from the Institute. The shotgun is pumped again, and she's not going to take a chance, not after that. Aimed down to attempt and avoid anyone sprinting for the door, she fires at the other man, shotgun shaking heavily afterwards. Eyes move back upwards, to Tasha and Kaylee, just in time to see Kaylee struck by her own bullets. "Shit!" She ignores Kaylee's advice, instead taking steps back towards the house.

There's time to get Kaylee out, even as from the corner that Abigail's found herself in explodes mere seconds after clothing burns, flame bursting out from her main mass, surging out five feet before pulling in again on the note a scream from the blonde. wallpaper bubbles, peels, blackens then flares up at the flames that surround Abigail's newly coronal mass start to crawl up walls from where she's pulling herself up.

No pain in this form, she can see the yellows and oranges that comprise people in her vision. One person where Kaylee was, someone moving forward, two more that are the shape of the institute men and then another departing. Darla hopefully, took the order and took off. Back and away Abigail goes, away from the group and towards a window. She can't stick around here.

"Kaylee!" Tasha catches sight of the telepath getting shot just as she reaches the door, turning back as well to hurry to the other woman. "Abby, go out the back door, I don't know if we can get her out of her fast enough!" she gasps. "You gotta calm… you gotta…calm down so you can help her, she needs medical help!" The words are shouted at the living flames, Tasha's eyes squinting against the heat, though Abby is already leaving the house through the window.

The wallpaper looks like it's going to catch, though, and they need to get Kaylee out, even if Abby has left the building. "We gotta get her out," she tells Barbara, her eyes watering with the heat and also fear, and she pulls Kaylee up and toward the door, sliding an arm around her and covering the hole in her chest to try to staunch the bleeding even as she tugs her along. "Come on, we gotta get out of the house before it catches…" the small teen murmurs.

Even as she's moving towards the door, the telepath isn't prepared for her own bullets to be thrown back at her. So when the bullets hit her, Kaylee's body jerks back, sending her stumbling back against at wall, painting it red with her shoulder. It happens too quickly for her to even fathom screaming.


It's not the most exciting thought.. Slightly surprised, she starts to slide to the floor, leaving a smear of blood on the wall where it has already started soaking through her hoodie at the shoulder. The vision of Abby just beyond her catching fire has her trying to move, again, by pressing back against the wall, unfortunately the move hurts and she give a pained cry, just letting a pistol clatter to the floor so that she can brace herself with the good hand.

There are tears in her eyes from the pain that's starting to pound through her shoulder. It's not enough to disable her… she know she needs to get out, so when Tasha grabs for her, Kaylee grabs her with her good hand and moves with the women for the door leanign on them for support, her other arm hanging limp… it hurts way too much to move it.

At least she can breath… that's a good thing right?

Darla, having exited through the same window she came in, swings down from the top of the porch and glances sidelong at the dead agents, both her brows and mouth knit into an expression of concern—

That furrows even deeper when she sees the condition that Kaylee is in and the tongues of flame devouring the wallpaper and spreading through the piano. By the time smoke reeking heavily of old varnish is filling the air of the house, she's putting out her hand in a gesture similar to the one the telekinetic had made, but when she pulls her fingers into a fist, the fire abruptly goes out and thick plumes of smoke are sent scattering in every direction.

There's not much she can do for the destruction Abigail is wreaking on the second floor, however, and it will only be a matter of minutes until the hallway upstairs is completely ablaze.

She'll at least be able to stop the fire from spreading to the adjacent buildings.

Barbara grumbles as she moves past Tasha, tossing the shotgun down. The heat is overbearing, forcing her eyes half lidded as she kneels down, a sidelong glance back to where Abby's inferno raged. She looks up to Tasha with a frown on her face, motioning back to the door with her head. "Get her legs and help me carry her!" she yells, because she feels she needs to.

Wiping her brow, eyes Kaylee for a moment. Normally, she'd ask if she could stand, how she was doing - but from the building heat and everyone's sense of urgency, there wasn't time for that. She reaches down and wraps arms around Kaylee as best as she can manage, and grunts as she lifts - it's a bit of a strain, but she's able to get upright. Now, they just had to hurry.

To hear someone is akin to swimming underwater. Her intention is just to get out of the building since she can't afford to stay in it. For all that they are telling her she needs to get out of the form, easier said than done as the open window is located, running through the layout in her head quickly and making guesses.

Out she goes, screw a lack of ground beneath her feet, she's pretty sure that she'll land fine. Then, then she can concentrate on turning this off.

Heading out with Kaylee and Barbara, Tasha scurries as fast as she can, bearing as much of Kaylee's weight as she can — luckily, the taller woman is slim and Barbara's there to help, but even 50 pounds is heavy when it's half your own weight. After making it far enough away from the house to consider it safe, Tasha releases Kaylee, then pulls off her own hoodie to start packing it around the woman's wounds, part of the hoodie around the back of the shoulder, part on the front, "Hold that in place," she tells Barbara, then returns her hands to the chest wound, keeping her already bloody hands there.

She looks up, peering for the fireball that is their fellow Ferrywoman. "Is there a fire extinguisher somewhere?"

And then it dawns on her to peer at Barbara. "You wouldn't happen to be Barbara, would you?"

When someone wraps arms around her and lifts, Kaylee actually cries out loudly at the pressure against her chest wound. A mental scream of pain hits Barbara, before it suddenly cuts out, as the telepath claps a lid on it.

Talking takes too much energy and Kaylee doesn't have a lot right now, so irritated words echos into Tasha's head. Can I just faint? Her teeth are clenched from the pain, since each jarring movement gives her a nice uncomfortably painful reminder. Her vision is graying at the edges as her mind tries to sink into the darkness of blessed unconsciousness, but Kaylee is determined not to go under…. not yet dammit.

Once she's safe and they start trying to stop the bleeding, Kaylee starts to scrap the heels of her boots over the dirt, it's almost instinct to do it, as if the motion will somehow help. A hand gripping a Tasha still. "Oh… fuck that hurts." The words come out strained, followed with a huff of air.

Everyone else alright? The words float through Tasha's head after that, as Kaylee manages to finally focus on her, blue eyes filled with pain.

Barbara peers back at Tasha, looking at her appraisingly. "Yeah, that's me. What the hell is going on with your friend?" she asks, eyes turning back towards the house. This wasn't really the moment for a real introduction, so instead, she lifts one hand up to point across the way. "There should be one in one of the other houses, if you're quick. We tried to keep things safe here." A nod is given to Tasha, and then attention turned down to Kaylee as she holds the hoodie in place. "I'm not terribly good at first aid, but if you have any tips, I'm open to suggestions."

Down, in an eerie way that would look tremendously cool on television or a movie screen. Though Abigail still hovers inches above the ground, coronal mass that is decidedly still Abigail within the flames that lick and curl around her, occasionally flaring off almost like the sun.

A clump of bodies, a burning building behind her, her back is offered to the people, turning in place and with incorporeal hands clenched, she's ripping through a prayer quick as she can in her mind, a suggestion from Cat and Huruma and one that hasn't had much success in the past.

It does now, as flames flare out, out out and then patchily, skin, flesh, pink, appears as flames start to retreat.

"Um, just her power, I guess, she kinda torches out, but she'll be okay, I think," Tasha murmurs. "Put pressure on those holes, harder than you think you should. It'll hurt, but it's better than bleeding out, right Kay? You're doing okay. Stay with us. No fainting. You'll be okay." She pushes Barbara's hand harder onto the shoulder and then takes her own hand off the chest and indicates for Barbara to hold that one as well.

"The bullet's still in that one… she seems to be breathing okay, but it's possible it's in her lung, so we need to get her out of here and to a hospital or a healer or something soon, that can cause a collapsed lung or something or septic pnumonia, or I don't even know." She has basic first aid knowledge, that's about it. "I'm gonna go run and get the fire extinguisher to make sure Abby — that other girl — doesn't flame through the whole compound. You keep pressure on her."

And with that, Tasha is up and running for one of the other houses, glancing behind her to see where Abby might be.

There is a sound from the telepath that is between non-committal and in pain which becomes a gasp as pressure is put on the wounds. The world is getting fuzzy at this point, darkness seeping in at the edges. Don't faint she said… it's a loosing battle at this point. Eyes squint as she turns her head to Barbara, getting a look at her…. though it seems like she's looking at her at more of a distance… or just she can't exactly focus.

No morphine.

"None… " The word escapes her, but the words drift in Barbara's head again. None like that. I can't take it. Her hand lifts to press fingers to her temple, a hint to maybe why. The hand drops back to the ground again and Kaylee's eyes slide shut as she finally tries to relax, head lolling a little to one side.

Gusts of wind directed at the upstairs windows by Darla keep the flames inside at bay, her back to the other women as she concentrates on fighting the fire so it isn't presented with the opportunity to leap from one burning house to the next. "Someone's going to notice the smoke," she informs them, "and there's only so much I can do to blow it away from the town. We need to get Kaylee back to the car. If there's anything you want to take from the house or the bodies, I suggest you do it now."

Barbara wrinkles her nose, pressing down on both bullet wounds as hard as she can. She knew some basic first aid, she needed to to be running a safehouse, but this was a bit outside what she'd been trained for. A glance back to the house, and then to Tasha. "She's right," she yells out to Tasha, as if encouraging her to hurry. "I doubt the Institute's far." Finally, back down to Kaylee, brow furrowed. "I'm sorry if this hurts," she says regretfully, before tying down the hoodie tight. "Ferry?" she asks, as if to double check.

Guttering and out. Left behind is Abby, in her birthday suit and her hands covering sensitive parts even as her hearing comes back to her. Clothes and sheets on the line are made a mad dash for and a sheet ripped off, fashioned into a wrap

"Phone in the car, get Kaylee to the car" She calls out, making her way over towards Kaylee's prone form.

"Call Elias, get her back to New York. Take their ID's, will buy us time when it comes to ID'ing them."

Abby's fingers find the telepath's pulse at her neck, taking what vitals she can without any of her equiptment.

"Kaylee and Tasha, we'll send you back with Elias. Barbara can help me return the car and I'll head to to the Ferry until he can make another trip to get us. But Kaylee needs to get back now. They'll be able to help her. I can't, not with the chest wound"

Seeing Abby back and hearing Darla's words, Tasha stops her dash to the nearest house and turns back to the house that is smoking. Get their IDs. The dead men's IDs. "All right," she calls. At least they are at the entrance and the work by the atmokinetic will keep her safe. She glances back, but Kaylee lying on the ground hardens her resolve and in she goes, patting down the dead, bloody bodies and taking what she can from them — guns, badges, tasers, tranq guns — before scurrying back toward the other women. Later, later when she has time to breathe, when she has the time to be afraid —

That's when it will dawn on her she just graverobbed two members of the Institute. Two government employees.

But not now. Now, Kaylee's life is on the line.

It takes a moment before Kaylee's eyes fly open, she wasn't out… not yet. The telepath is still fighting it, afraid to let go. "Pockets!" Her hand grips Barbara's arm, so that she can pull her head off the ground and look in Tasha's direction. // Plastic bag!// "Get it." Her head drops to the ground again and she lets out a frustrated sigh. They came here for it… whatever it is. "It might be important."

Kaylee is not liking this being helpless and this drifting feeling… or feeling tired. Sleep… sleep is a good thing. Maybe she should just go ahead and pass out.

In fact, she does.

The dead men's IDs identify them as Agent Leslie Morris and Agent Michael Minyard with the Department of Homeland Security. More interesting than the information on the badges previously concealed inside their jacket pockets is the plastic bag that Morris had been tucking into his coat when he and his partner first appeared in the doorway.

Its contents: one sports watch with a broken band and a shattered face, its back plate missing along with the majority of its innards, but there's no mistaking the letters N, E, S and W on the face itself.

That's several shouts now to get Kaylee to safety, so with that Barbara again grunts as she lifts the now unconscious woman with a grunt, grimacing under the now dead weight. "Where's your car?" she asks as she hefts the woman up, awkwardly. It's harder without Tasha's help, but if she doesn't waste time, it'll be fine.

Besides, it's not like she'll drop the woman.

"Not far, you should have seen it" Abigail calls out as she tears away from group to head for the clothesline again, rip off sheets and clothing that will be too big for her in the end. "Should be a spare key just under the front bumper. We need to move fast. Do we have the negation cannister too? Bring that with us, special activities will want to take a look at that"

She's worried about Kaylee, a glance to Tasha to see how she's holding up. "Lets get out of here quick" clothes tossed over shoulder, she's moving in to help Barbara carry Kaylee. "You Barbara… We need to talk"

Arms full of IDs and guns and a compass, Tasha scrambles to grab the negation gas as well. "Bye, Billy," she tells the little black goat, before running to catch up to the others on the way to the car. "Here's that thing the guy had," she says, passing it to Abby, the plastic bag bloody from Tasha's hands. "It looks like a compass, not a watch. Should you take these badges and stuff, or me with Kaylee? Are we going to a hospital or to a Ferry doctor?" she rambles out questions, dropping the items on the seat of the car. She wipes her bloody hands on her jeans and grabs the phone, dialing the number that Abby had told them ahead of time was Elias'.

Barbara begins moving towards the car with Kaylee gripped as well as she can manage, a focused look on her face. "She asked me the same thing," she responds, head tilted to motion over to Tasha. "Yeah, I'm Barbara." Her eyes move over to look towards Abby, a look of consideration on her face. "I assume the Ferry sent you to check on things? I'm glad, but… as you can see, there's not much to check on…" her tone is rueful as she looks back ahead, and then down at the unconscious woman in her arms.

"Side trip really, from Nova Scotia. They wanted to know what happened and we can talk more later Barbara, when Kaylee's not bleeding out" The car really isn't that far, parked close for the comfort of all involved and Abigail's not caring about what gravel will do to her bare feet. "You can take me to some safe house, after we return the car." Sheets are shoved in, where Kaylee can be propped in to sit up. "Don't lay her down. Lets get out of here, Tasha" The baggie is taken from her, frowned at and the ID's as well to be studied later. "American Authorities working on canadian soil doesn't happen my arse"

Tasha gets in the car, helping Kaylee in, keeping pressure with one hand on the chest wound, the shoulder the less serious. "Elias," she gasps into the phone when someone picks up. "Emergency. Rendezvous point, ASAP. We're on our way. We have an injury. We'll be there in ten minutes or I'll call back." She hangs up the phone, trying not to tremble with the emotional shock that's starting to set in. You'll be okay. Stay with me. You did good, she thinks to Kaylee, trying to focus on the positive thoughts and not letting her fear make its way to the surface of her own mind.

In the distance, the roar of Darla's winds rise to meet the crackling flames. The sparrows have gone silent, and the herd of bell-rattling goats dispersed.

The fire will make the local news, but it's the deaths of the two Homeland Security agents that are likely to make national headlines.

All five women had better hope that they're on the other side of the border when they do.

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