2008-02-09: The Desert Escape

Starring:

Samantha_icon.gif Namir_icon.gif Niki_icon.gif

Summary: Namir, Samantha and Niki try to make their escape from the desert.

Date It Happened: February 9th, 2008

The Desert Escape


Previously on Heroes MUSH...

From the skies, a bullet bites the dust a few inches away from the vehicle's back tire. It was either meant to delay them, or it was meant for Samantha.

"Fuck!" Sam makes a leap for the SUV, scrambling in the back with the unconscious man. "They're shooting at us!" No, honey - they're shooting at you. She tries to make herself small, while still inspecting the man's wounds. "Talk later. Get in!"

Niki glances up, the various aircrafts only succeeding in making her more uneasy, not more enlightened. "I think I might," the slightly bedraggled blonde says thick with an undertone of bitterness. One Namir's call to action, she wastes no time in running around the SUV — what makes her hesitate is the sight of the bodies, dead or unconscious, that she has to pass in order to get there. She looks at them, conflicted, but after swallowing dryly, jumps in through the open passenger door. She steps on the seat, climbing into the back.

As soon as everyone is in and safe, Namir pops the Xtreme into gear and veers off, spitting up a cloud of sand and dust from the skidding tires. Soon they're off — fast, if not bumpy. "Better find something to tie him up," he tosses over his shoulder, keeping an eye on his rearview mirror. "Keep your heads down."

Niki kneels by the unconscious man's other side, ducking down overtop of him; while Sam checks his wounds (mostly, it's just his mouth, like he took a hard suckerpunch), she rifle through his pockets with frantic but cooperating hands, trying to find a phone. She comes up dry. She whips off the guy's belt for something to tie him up with - and in doing so, finds some sort of ultra small comm unit. She flicks it on to hear a hiss of static and promptly shuts it off. She tosses it in the front seat. The stranger at the wheel can deal with that. "I think I've met these people before," she confesses as she rolls the man over on his side and goes about lashing his wrists together. It's not like she's ever done this before, but she has no trouble tying what should be stiff and troublesome leather into bindings.

The helicopter is definitely firing at them — a bullet knicks an outer corner of the Xtreme and more punch into the sand around it.

* * *

Nevada Desert

Out of the gaping doorway drops the corpse, followed by Namir, who drags it further from the vehicle. Next he hauls one of the unconscious men out, casting glances toward the helicopter. Damn it. He turns and fires a dart at the man who is not unconscious, then climbs back into the cab and settles in behind the wheel, leaving one last unconscious man in the back seat. "Get in!" he calls out the window. "We're getting out of here." And conveniently, whenever he wakes up, they'll have someone to pump for information later.

From the skies, a bullet bites the dust a few inches away from the vehicle's back tire. It was either meant to delay them, or it was meant for Samantha.

"Fuck!" Sam makes a leap for the SUV, scrambling in the back with the unconscious man. "They're shooting at us!" No, honey - they're shooting at you. She tries to make herself small, while still inspecting the man's wounds. "Talk later. Get in!"

Niki glances up, the various aircrafts only succeeding in making her more uneasy, not more enlightened. "I think I might," the slightly bedraggled blonde says thick with an undertone of bitterness. One Namir's call to action, she wastes no time in running around the SUV what makes her hesitate is the sight of the bodies, dead or unconscious, that she has to pass in order to get there. She looks at them, conflicted, but after swallowing dryly, jumps in through the open passenger door. She steps on the seat, climbing into the back.

As soon as everyone is in and safe, Namir pops the Xtreme into gear and veers off, spitting up a cloud of sand and dust from the skidding tires. Soon they're off — fast, if not bumpy. "Better find something to tie him up," he tosses over his shoulder, keeping an eye on his rearview mirror. "Keep your heads down."

Niki kneels by the unconscious man's other side, ducking down overtop of him; while Sam checks his wounds (mostly, it's just his mouth, like he took a hard suckerpunch), she rifle through his pockets with frantic but cooperating hands, trying to find a phone. She comes up dry. She whips off the guy's belt for something to tie him up with - and in doing so, finds some sort of ultra small comm unit. She flicks it on to hear a hiss of static and promptly shuts it off. She tosses it in the front seat. The stranger at the wheel can deal with that. "I think I've met these people before," she confesses as she rolls the man over on his side and goes about lashing his wrists together. It's not like she's ever done this before, but she has no trouble tying what should be stiff and troublesome leather into bindings.

The helicopter is definitely firing at them — a bullet knicks an outer corner of the Xtreme and more punch into the sand around it.

Samantha looks for something else entirely - a water canteen. Because if they don't get some and soon, bullets may not matter. The fact that they're being shot at does occur to her, but hell - she lived through Darfur, and she can keep her head. Regardless of the water situation, the man's wounds are inspected as well, because discriminating as a doctor with regard to such matters isn't happening. Hippocratic Oath and all. She looks to Niki a moment. "Are you Evolved?" she asks bluntly.

The bullets are a concern of Namir's though. Water has taken a back seat. He grits his teeth and jerks the wheel to one side, taking the Xtreme into a carefully controlled swerve to make them less of a target. There's very little chance they will outrun the helicopter, and if they keep zooming mindlessly into the desert, they're going to get lost. Thinking quickly, he calls over his shoulder: "Sam, do you think you can take it down with enough amplification?"

"… Evolved," Niki answers, slightly thrown off by the word. "I guess you could say that. I take it you are, too?" It's said with a touch of cynicism because, well, being "evolved" is why they're all here. A memory sparking from her brief and chaotic recollection of being in the back of this vehicle, Niki starts to scramble around on her hands and knees looking for something other than a water canteen-where, where there. She pulls the a weapon more lethal than a tranq gun out from under a seat. It's just a small hand gun belonging to one of the men, but it's something. She looks at it in her hand, then out the back window and the helicopter overhead. It'd be a longshot. She still needs to work on her aim.

The helicopter doesn't let up, but it misses the Xtreme.

Samantha nods curtly to Namir. She then looks back at Niki. "You might want to close your ears." She inches close to the window, takes a big inhalation of breath, and something - not unlike a human woman's scream, but also sort of…static-y, erupts from her throat, creating what appears to be a visible wave in the air, directed toward the helicopter.

The sound that starts out of Sam's throat quickly grows in intensity — by a lot. Namir's putting everything he's got into this one. It's a helicopter. It is big. Thus it needs a big scream. Putting so much into it, though, has a poor effect on him. It's hard enough to control and amplify Sam's scream, let alone to such an extent. The usual buzz in his head quickly turns to searing, throbbing pain. He clings to the wheel and fights to stay focused.

Niki looks momentarily looks confused at Samantha, but remembering the loud noise before she jumped in the SUV, clasps her hands - gun and all - over her ears and crouches down. She clenches her eyes shut, pained because god, that is loud.

The helicopter almost immediately swings to the left - like a pendulum, pushed about in the air. There's a blasting sound, structures shattering high above. It fights for control but fails and starts to careen toward the ground - fast.

Samantha is gonna run out of breath - thank god for high school and college musicals - she can sustain the scream at least for a few seconds longer, and if necessary draw breath for another. She watches the chopper start to come down with an air of angry satisfaction.

Namir can see it starting to fall in the rearview mirror. He has the presence of mind to turn the wheel and start taking the car out of the path of the potential crash site, putting as much distance between the Xtreme and the inevitable debris before impact.

The helicopter, gaining momentum by the second now that its propellers have, in fact, stopped spinning altogether, plummets into the desert to the far right of the SUV. A safe distance thanks to Namir's driving. In theory. The craft explodes moments after impact in a hot burst of black and orange, the shudder and heat rocking the car along with a spray of rock and sand.

Niki chances a look out the window behind her and drops her hands from her ears, her hair even messier, now, than it was before. "These people-they're after people like us," she explains, ducking down instinctively at the fireworks out there. "I need a phone! If I could just find a phone— I could get us out of here."

These three aren't getting a break, even now that the helicopter is down. A desert-hued Jeep comes barelling out of the distance toward them — the way it came when it dropped off the newlyweds.

"Namir…" Samantha says. Dear, do you think you could drive now? Is the tone. She looks to Niki. "We don't have a phone. Namir will get us out of here, it's what he does." She considers their captive. "Do we keep him or dump him, honey? Because we don't have a lot of time."

"Goddamn it," Namir hisses under his breath upon spotting the Jeep. He turns the Xtreme again, turning around and heading right back toward the wrecked helicopter. At the mention of a phone, he reaches over to the com device Niki tossed up onto the front seat earlier and tosses it over his shoulder to her. "That's all we've got right now." To Sam he adds, "We're keeping him until he can give us some information on why these akho sharmuta won't leave us alone."

"Let me take him," Niki finds herself suddenly taking initiative over the unconscious man. She catches the com device from Namir with one hand. "When we get out of here— I know what to do with him. I know someone who can help." She shifts the unit on, listening in.

"…the… police," a male voice is caught mid conversation. "We can't let them get to the road. Piron is heading in from the west."

Samantha mutters under her breath, "-going to a hobbit village, not stuck in the middle of the fucking desert." She looks up again. "Those two silver objects…are they tracking us?"

Namir knows a few things about getting people to talk. If he were a violent man by nature, he might protest Niki's taking the unconscious prisoner for the sheer fact that he'd like to test out some of those techniques — but he doesn't. He's also a bit distracted by driving. Taking quick stock of the sun, he veers the Xtreme around in a wide curve, trying to bring them back the way the Jeep came from without actually getting into the Jeep's path.

Samantha shades her eyes. "Those things are following us. Should I try and bring them down?" She looks over her shoulder at Namir for confirmation. To Niki, "Where exactly would you take him? All we have is us, him, and this jeep. It's not like you're going to go anywhere he won't be driving us."

"If we get back to Vegas— " Niki throws a look out the window, then grabs the headrest of the passenger seat and leans in toward the others, voice urgent. "I work for … someone important," she says. Another glance out the window and she looks like she's going to swear, but instead she finishes, "He'll know what to do."

The comm. unit is quiet, for the time being; like Namir, the driver of the Jeep must be focused on driving. Speaking of, the vehicle, outfitted for the environment, makes good time, changing its course to get closer. Another jeep comes out of the west, as promised.

Samantha seems uncertain of what to do, those silvery things make her nervous. And Namir didn't say not to, so…she raises her head, eyeballs the disc things, opens her mouth, and lets out another SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Any resemblance to raptor sounds notwithstanding.

The boost Namir gives is a little less powerful this time, but it also allows his skull to not split into pieces. Good thing all around. He keeps his eye on the converging Jeeps. "We'll talk about it when we get out of here," he informs Niki. "Is there a gun?" Tires need to be shot out somewhere.

With a sudden mmh of pain from being so close to Samantha when she starts shrieking, Niki covers her ears again, squinting for the duration of the noise.

The little silver drones fall out of the sky in an instant.

"Here," the blonde says afterward, climbing over into the front seat beside Namir, gun in hand. She seems to know how to use it, checking to see if it's loaded; the turns the safety off. "I'll … try, you keep driving." As cool wind tears in through the doorless hole to her right, she grabs on to the frame of the SUV with one hand, holding on tight. She hangs out of the vehicle a bit, pointing the gun at the first Jeep to appear, concentrating angrily while trying to aim. Bam, bam, bam.

Samantha tucks herself back into the jeep, and more or less hangs on for dear life. Though now she finally spots the canteen, but resists the urge to grab it and starts chugging. Instead, she starts checking over the guy as best she can given the driving and the bullets whizzing around her and her desire to kick this sonuvabitch in the head for RUINING HER HONEYMOON.

Oh yes. This is the best honeymoon ever. Namir could be rock climbing by now, but no. No, he's here. In the back-end of nowhere. Driving through a desert trying to keep himself and his wife and a strange woman alive.

When they get out of here, they are spending two full weeks in New Zealand.

"Have you got any more left in you, habibti?" he asks over his shoulder. "We might need help taking out one of these Jeeps."

Help would be good. Because while one of Niki's shots hits the Jeep (Logan would be proud!), it swerves but keeps advancing on while there's still some air in its tire, rollicking along the ground.

But she perseveres, brows knitting tightly together, hair whipping wildly around her face. Each shot reverberates her body rather hard, but she stays strongly hanging on to the SUV. More shots. One, two, three. Without waiting, she climbs back through, coming to a kneel beside Sam, where she winds open the window and tries to shoot at the other Jeep. Crazy sounds of doom or no, she's going to do what she can.

Another of the first Jeep's tires blows out and it's forced to come to a halt, two masked men immediately piling out of it. The woman's shot at the second vehicle hits the sand.

Oh god, again? It's not as if it's terribly difficult though, but she's a bit confused in all the action. "Which one?" she asks, peering through the jeep's bars at the oncoming vehicles. Absently she rubs her throat.

"That one." Namir thrusts his thumb over his shoulder at the Jeep with the intact tires that Niki is currently firing on. He keeps his ears open for the com device, but for the most part, he's focused on getting the Xtreme onto the track that the initial Jeep came through. Surely it came from a road somewhere.

Niki tries to persevere, but after a new shot hits the side of the Jeep, which weaves and tears up the desert with a cloud of sand, and the other sails past, she hisses in frustration. She tries one more time, but the gun just clicks. She tosses it down on the floor and, looking between the two strangers, tenses and prepares to hold her ears again.

And again. Samantha doesn't seem to have too much difficulty summoning her ability, for all that she doesn't use it as much as Namir does his. It really does sound like one of the velociraptors from Jurassic Park. SKREEEEEEEEE. Clever girl!

The killer velociraptor scream gets another massive boost from Namir, but thanks to the previous ventures into sound-boost, the resulting headache is blindingly agonizing. The boost does not last long as a result, but it could be enough. There's another scream from within the Xtreme, this one from Namir, who nearly loses control of the vehicle. It lurches to one side, then starts to weave as Namir slumps over the wheel with a painful grimace. He's trying to keep it going, but it's probably not the best idea to have him behind the wheel right now. His sense of balance is very affected.

The Jeep jerks keeps going … but only because its driver it slumped over at the wheel, foot on the pedal. It's not going anywhere useful.

Niki hears Namir's shout through her own ringing ears. "Whoa, hey," she says with concern touching her urgent tone. She climbs to the front again, this time clamping a hand onto the steering wheel to make sure it stays steady. "Go on to the back," she cautions him, climbing over the man's lap to sit at the far edge of the seat in trying to control the SUV. There are, after all, rocks here and there as the desert becomes less sandy and more rugged.

Samantha leans forward. "I think they're done….we should…maybe we should pull over for a second, and see if we can get sorted. There's a canteen on this guy, we could each have a couple of sips, and then figure out where we are."

"Nnnh." That's all Namir offers up in the way of protest. He's not in much condition to fight Niki for the wheel, so he simply slumps over into the passenger seat, then slowly crawls into the back and falls on the floor, where he doesn't run the risk of flying out the open passenger door now that the world is spinning. He shakes his head at Sam. "Keep going. Follow the tracks," he mumbles, curling an arm over his head. He wants as much distance between them and their followers as they can get.

Niki settles into the driver's seat, both hands on the wheel, leaning forward a little as she presses a bare foot to the gas, clearly taking Namir's tactic to heart. "We're outside of Las Vegas. I don't know how far. They just— grabbed me and I woke up in the back."

As if they didn't have enough to worry about, the thrum of another helicopter begins overhead. This one, however, has the markings of a police 'copter.

Niki peers up through the windshield skeptically, worry lining her face.

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