01:10
Episode 1: The Original Blueprints
Part 10
Ned held his gun steady on Laurel despite Violet’s shotgun pointed at his chest and Laurel’s thirty-eight and forty-five pointed at his head.
“Put down the gun, Ned,” Violet ordered. Her voice was strained like a piano wire pulled too tight.
“She’s coming with me, Vi,” was Ned’s answer. “She’s the thing the client wants. She’s been lying to us all the time and she has you under some sort of spell. Let me take her.”
Violet’s shotgun wavered.
“You’ll kill her,” she said, the tension melting from her voice.
“Why would I kill her?” Ned protested. “She’s the thing we get paid to deliver. She’s only valuable alive.”
Headlights shined in through the windows and instinctively Violet stepped into the shadows. Laurel stood where she was now fully illuminated in the bright light. Violet reached out and snatched the girl into the dark, placing a careful and over Laurel’s mouth.
“What the fuck, Ned,” she whispered. “You lead those assholes right to us.”
“That was sort of the idea since they want to pick her up.”
Outside the window a figure passed in front of the headlights. Laurel shook off Violet’s hand and scowled back at her but the woman only looked lost in thought.
“You’re not going to turn me over, are you?” Laurel asked.
Violet looked at Laurel and then at Ned who nodded meaningfully.
The door opened and a pretty auburn-haired woman stood silhouetted in the light from the car. Both Violet and Ned shielded their eyes from the glare of the headlights.
“Is that her?” the woman demanded.
Ned walked to the her side. He stopped and turned to face Violet and Laurel.
“Yep. That’s her. The dark haired one.”
“She will come with me, then.”
Still shielding her eyes Violet looked the woman over. “And you are … who exactly?” she asked.
“I work for your client,” answered Brenda.
Violet looked over at Ned whose face was suddenly much blanker than she could ever remembered.
“And that would be who?” Violet continued.
Brenda remained silent.
Violet smirked.
“I just have this thing about handing people over to other people when I don’t know who they are.” She brought the shotgun to bear on the woman. “So make with the ID.”
Ned stepped towards Violet.
“She works with Lynda, Vi. You have my word on that.”
“Still like that name,” said Violet, “and don’t call me Vi.”
“Brenda,” said Ned. “It’s….”
Laurel fired both of her pistols at the witch with no effect. Violet watched as the woman merely waved her hand and made the bullets turn to feathers. Violet grabbed Laurel’s hand and dragged the girl towards the door.
“C’mon. We’ve got to run!” shouted Violet.
As they left Violet turned and fired two bursts from her shotgun. Brenda was unaffected but Ned dove for cover in an empty fireplace.
“We’re done Ned,” shouted Violet. “You and I are done.” She ran out of the door.
Brenda sighed and looked at Ned who still cowered in the fireplace.
“I really didn’t want to do this myself,” she told him, “but it is so hard to find decent help.”
Then Brenda slowly followed the pair out of the door.
Laurel was outside trying to open the door on the big Town and Country van with it’s lights on. After a moment Violet heard her scream in frustration.
“Fucking manual piece of crap,” she bellowed.
“Just take the Mustang,” she said and pointed to the car they had arrived in. Then she saw why Laurel had ignored the newer model. All four tires were flat. The tires on Neds Crown Victoria were likewise deflated. Laurel glared at Violet..
“Any other bright ideas?” asked Laurel.
Violet flicked her off “Maybe I’ll just leave you here.”
“Too late for that, girls,” said Brenda from the steps.
Laurel and Violet both turned around to look at the woman. She stood on the concrete with her hands hanging loosely at her sides glowing a light blue with jets of white shooting off like sparklers.
“Mother-humpin’ Mohamed,” said Laurel, “She’s gonna fucking kill us both, isn’t she?”
“What the fuck is she?” asked Violet.
“That? That is a witch.”
Laurel and Violet both looked at each other.
“Kill her?” asked Violet.
“Kill her!” answered Laurel.
Violet raised her shotgun and fired on automatic directly at Brenda’s head as Laurel emptied the magazines of first the thirty-eight and then the forty-five into her chest. None of the weapons had any effect at all but Brenda was kept busy turning the bullets into harmless fluff.
“Reload!” Laurel shouted to Violet.
The killer reached behind her own back and produced one magazine each of foty-five caliber and thirty-eight caliber ammunition. She tossed these to Violet who caught the clips with one hand and simultaneously slammed them home with the other hand. She kept firing.
Violet ran out of ammo early on and stood watching the robot fire round after round at the witch but Laurel’s rapid firing more than made up for her reticence. One magazine of bullets and than another disappeared into Brenda’s waving hands which moved faster and faster until they were only a blur in front of Brenda’s sweating face.
Finally Brenda crossed her hands and summoned a blaze of blue light that pushed both Laurel and Violet back against the cars.
“Enough!” she shouted. “She comes with me!”
Laurel fired her forty-five at Brenda – or she tried to fire. The magazine was suddenly empty.
“Violet! Reload!”
Violet lay unconscious on the ground next to the car. Blood ran down from her shoulders and chest onto the sear grass.
“You’re coming with me,” shouted Brenda.
“Fuck you, bitch.”
Ned looked out the doorway behind Brenda, checking to see if it was safe for him to come outside. The cement porch around the witch was littered with feathers as if a pillow had exploded. He looked at the mess and then up at Brenda.
“I’ll go get the girl,” he told Brenda and stepped down to the yard.
Laurel spat at the man and turned round to find something she could use as a weapon. The only thing she could lay her hands on was the door of the Crown Victoria. With one smooth motion she grabbed the sides and yanked the door free from its hinges.
Ned stopped. “Fuck me,” he said under his breath and retreated to the steps.
Laurel held the door like an oversized Frisbee and prepared t throw it.
“I don’t think you’ll be getting anyone,” Brenda told Ned with a smirk.
“What the fuck is she?” he asked.
“Unique,” Brenda whispered and brought her glowing hands up for a final blast. “It’s a pity, that.”
