2010-02-04: Unlikely Heroes for Haiti



Date: February 4th, 2010


Seperated from Claire, Adam and Hallis meet up with the Haitian and brave Samedi's men to save Sierra and the others.

"Unlikely Heroes for Haiti"


It's been quite a trip.

Of all the aid rushing into Haiti, those sent by the machinations of a matriarch in the United States are perhaps among the strangest, and for a cause that goes unseen by the media. The plight of women captured by a warlord returned to his homeland to prey on the suffering of its people without consideration that they're his brethren.

So welcome to the jungle, ladies and gentlemen.

It's midday but far from bright in the thick brush that covers this stretch of land. According to the map (where is the map?), the closest village is at least an hour away, and that's if you have a vehicle and have found the promised road. Beyond the village is a main road to Port-au-Prince, dubiously accessible. But right here, in the middle of nowhere — there's not even a hint of a path anymore. It is definitely not somewhere you can simply drop in by helicopter.

There is, however, sounds of activity that can't be attributed to wildlife in the distance. Shouts, vehicles. Samedi's Base?

"Come on, princess!" Adam says, giving Hallis's stick-thin wrist a not-so-gentle little tug. "Not only did you prepare for a trip to Haiti by showing up in pumps, but you didn't even think to bring long pants!" Fortunately for her, there's always military surplus to go about, and when you have the right connections and cash, it's really easy to come by. Outfitted in military fatigues, sturdy boots, and safari-ish vests, he tugs her along through the jungle. Call him a saint, but he's already given her the explicit instructions to go and hide if shooting breaks out, behind him if she has to. A sword of all things is slung over his back, between her and him (not his sword, but one he's had made recently), and an automatic rifle hangs from a strap about his neck, both courtesy of his time as a Yakuza boss. "I can hear them, just up ahead…something up ahead at least." Sneaking into Whitebeard's camp anyone?

"It's not my fault!" Hallis protests as she follows along behind as quickly as she can. He barely gave her enough time to find socks that matched the boxy trousers that he insisted she wear. "The girl that visited me said to just call her and she would bring the clothes, the shoes, everything. I thought I was — " She was what. " — What about you! You were the one that told me before that I shouldn't bother packing anyway." Military surplus or not, Hallis was able to make her icky military surplus look fantastic with a few accessories. A scarf for her safari hat, some well chosen beaded wrist bands, and colorful laces for her boots. Before the blonde man dragged her out into the middle of nowhere, she had managed to piece together a relatively L.L. Bean-esque outfit.

A shape up ahead is crouched against an outcropping of rock and ferns. It's a man — the assault weapon hanging over his back, along with dark skin, his camouflage pants and a shirt abused by time in the jungle would easily place him as one of the men who belong in Samedi's camp. Such could not be further from the truth. Though he is Haitian, the man is not one of Baron Samedi's followers; Rene is his brother. Hearing footsteps, he snaps to attention, standing up whip-fast, weapon pointed at Adam and Hallis. The look on his face is nothing but dangerous, but surprise and suspicion take over. The placement of his rifle only becomes more precise. "What are you doing here?"


The rattle of chains precedes the vicious Baron Samedi as he slams his heavy on the corrugated metal wall above Sierra where she has been trussed up like a slave. His face, sweating in the heat, looms at hers as he grabs her face. «The more you try to prove you deserve better, the more you deserve a good beating,» he threatens in French. «Hmm? You won't have such spirit for long.»

"Well, my friend, a mutual acquaintance of one Angela Petrelli sent us here to save some pretty girls from a very bad man. You know that I can't pass up the opportunity to save a pretty face," Adam replies to Rene with a cocksure grin on his face. "So, since we appear to be on the same side, I'd very much appreciate you not pointing that thing at me," he says while he stretches an arm out to push the barrel of Rene's rifle away from himself and his little tagalong.

Hallis just looks up at Adam while he condescends all over the man with the rifle. "We're looking for a village." The young blonde pipes up. "Some people need help and I was sent to save them." Like the angel of salvation that she is. The humidity is already doing horrible things to her hair and it's starting to frizz, not a pretty site. "Are you going there too?" She's not as sure as Adam that they're all on the same side. Not that she hasn't counted out the possibility, but she looks up at the very tall black man and gives him one of her best charismatic and reassuring smiles. She's just here to help.

If Hallis thinks her hair isn't a pretty sight in this humidity, she should see Sierra's. It's been stuck here longer, and has gone all sorts of crazy. As Samedi talks, Sierra rattles her chains in defiance as Samedi grabs her by the face. As he finishes up, she spits at him. Or tries to anyway. In the haze of the drugs she's been given, and with the heat, it's hard to muss up enough to do so. Her swollen and beaten eyes glare at Samedi. «I do not deserve to be treated like a slave! I do not deserve to be hung up like a common criminal! Unleash me, your horrid, horrid man!» She replies in French as well. «I see you for what you are…you're no god! You're a ruffian! A thief! A criminal!» She coughs, her throat dry. «Your men were scared when they saw what I could do! Perhaps they started to think I was a god like you! How would that be?»

Samedi smiles. It can hardly be called a smile, however. It's a leer, indulgent and cruel in the face of Sierra's defiance. "«I am those things,» he laughs, a dry and pitiless. «So are they. So to them I am a god among men. You're no god either but someone will pay me a heavy price for your little tricks.» He roughly lets go of the woman's face, only to hurl a heavy-handed fist at her already beaten face. He aims to knock her out— it'll be easier that way. Presuming she's out, Samedi unlatches Sierra's wrists from her chains, only to tear a strip of duct tape with his teeth to truss her up with in preparation for transport of some sort. Again.

Around Sierra are the whimpers of at least two other young women in dirty, white cotton dresses.

In the jungle, the dark, intelligent eyes of the man known as "the Haitian" narrow, fixing on Adam all the more now that he has spoken. He continues levelling the weapon at the pair, strong and firm against the intervention of Adam — until he abruptly doesnt, lowering it to his side. He nods; he understands. Yet… "You do not need to be here. Turn back."

Behind him is the distant revving of engines. Knowing this may mean action must be taken fast, Rene flashes a knowing look rapidly over his shoulder. He speaks with urgency. "This is not your fight."

"No, but, you can use my help I'm sure." Again, a knowing grin is flashed at The Haitian, the long-time male-companion of the Pretrelli family (is this guy on retainer, or what's the deal?, he can't help but thinking to himself). "Just…be careful how you use your tricks. I don't like, you know, getting shot. It rather hurts, and I'd be very, very angry should death turn out to be a permanent ailment." All caution is thrown to the wind in discussing what it is he can do, figuring that if the Petrelli matriarch sent Hallis along, she can't be too concerned with this girl finding out about abilities. "Besides, we're already here. Let's have some fun, eh?" He gives Rene a lopsided grin and doesn't hold up, striking off toward the sounds of the vehicles.

When Rene tells them to turn back, Hallis blonde eyebrows furrow into an angry little Vee. She doesn't even wait for dam to finish his little speech before she cuts in. "My balls this isn't my fight. I'll be damned if I'm going to let you stop me from getting into Heaven." The dainty little angel stomps ahead of the Kensei and the Hatian, she's not afraid of guns, death, any of that. She's already had a semi drive over and her be exploded. She's just doing what she needs to do to see the blinding white light again. When the motors rev, she breaks into a run to get toward them. She is… Fearlis.

Sierra is indeed knocked out by Samedi's wily punch. And now, being unconscious and carried, there's nothing much the girl in the cotton dress can do. She's can't move, she can't do much of anything until she wakes up.

"This is not a game," the man replies to Adam's light-hearted approach with passionate determination accentuating every fluctuation of his notable accent. He all but glowers as Adam and Hallis race past before striding after the British man and his tiny cohort. "Baron Samedi's encampment is up ahead. Help to get the women out, but Samedi is my responsibility," he insists with the utmost seriousness. He is my brother. He cannot get hurt; you cannot get hurt… she can." A pointed gesture is sent to Hallis.

And there's the encampment. It's small and makeshift, but it's efficient. A few low-lying buildings, pieced together with corrugated metal sheeting and flimsy structures. Heavy trucks and all-terrain vehicles are scattered out front. A low brick wall surrounds the encampment a few feet high, spray painted over and over and assaulted by the elements until, now, the colour of stone seeps through the blue paint… good for hiding behind in a firefight. Rows of propaganda posters have been pasted everywhere, featuring the stylized image of a man's face between rifles. MORT AU IMPERIALISTES, they say. SAMEDI.

The followers of the featured warlord swarm the place, every one of them armed to the teeth. At present, two of them are loading semi-automatic weapons into the back of a black pickup truck and hauling a canvas sheet overtop. Samedi himself, the tall, bearded man in military green steps out into daylight with Sierra slung over his broad shoulder. Other men follow him carrying other young women, all dirty and worn-down but none so beaten as Sierra. And unlike Sierra, they're awake and dragged out forcefully.

It's been a while since Adam's had the chance to shoot first and ask questions later, but those women captives make that a little hard to do. While he'd like to just take a knee and start rat-a-tat-tating the hell out of them with that assault rifle, he's not that damn good a shot. Plus, their first move is likely to be dumping the dead weight by, well, killing them. Enter the Sword, then.

"Here, take this. I assume you know how to use it. Flip the safety off here, aim, pull the trigger. Set for three round burst. Don't break your collarbone there Rambo," he says as he passes his rifle to Hallis. "Stay out of sight, don't fire unless it gets hairy, and don't worry about hitting me." In a low crouch, Adam starts out for the camp, jumping over the wall, vaulting over really, while he pulls the sword out to get up close and personal with his enemies.

Though she hasn't watched much television, she has seen almost every James Bond movie that starred Timothy Dalton there is (all three of them). Using this knowledge, when Hallis reaches the encampment, she ducks behind the closest thing she can in order to take a look. In this case, the wall makes a very handy barrier for her to make her peeks at irregular intervals. Her wide blue eyes take in her surroundings, first the signs, then the men loading the machine guns, and finally the little slave girls being led out to the truck. "Sierra!" she whispers, suddenly understanding her purpose for being here. She has to rescue her bestie (maybe the other girls too) in order to get to Heaven. When Adam hands her the rifle, she just nods and slings if over her back.

The little socialite isn't an acrobat by any means, so climbing over the wall is a bit of a feat. She picks a spot that's well covered on the other side, so as she rolls over the top she won't be seen when she falls. 'oof…' is all that she manages once she lands on her back, but on the other side. She's hoping that the commotion and the loud vehicles masked her little crunch but she's not too worried about it at the moment. Very slowly, she crawls a little closer, staying well hidden by various boxes, drums, and vehicles.

The moment one of the followers gets wind that there is an intruder in their territory, Samedi's attention snaps to the man with the sword. Who do we have here? He pours Sierra onto the back of a waiting Jeep without reverence for her well-being. His followers are more vocal; they shout and scurry. Those loading the back of the truck stop and point their rifles at Adam, as does every other. In a matter of seconds, he has roughly seven weapons pointed at him.

But Samedi holds up a hand. "Wait." he orders curtly. He spreads his hands out as if in a gesture of welcome, that cruel smile appearing slowly. He is unconcerned. "To what… do we owe the pleasure?"

As Adam rushes into battle, Rene looks sternly on, his features seeming cut from stone —-slick stone, in the Haitian heat. He crouches by that wall to regard the camp, but not for long. He's soon following Hallis, more agile and silent by far. He falls in a crouch behind a drum as she crawls along. "Come with me," if you want to live! He gestures, sneaking low in a jog ahead of Hallis to approach the camp from behind.

"Well…speaking god to god here, mind you…you'd like some fair competition for the lives of all these girls." Adam isn't exactly subtle in how he just barges on in there, sword drawn. With all the guns pointed at him, he doesn't flinch though, just smirking in Samedi's direction. "I mean, you aren't exactly secret about the fact that you fancy yourself a god. I wonder…what would happen if you men saw that you weren't alone in thinking that." To bait them into firing, Adam lifts his blade, and starts to drive toward Samedi, slower than he could if he wanted to try.

Hallis didn't miss Adam's brave little charge into the fray and her eyes widen considerably. "Bu-but Adam.." she whispers to Rene when he beckons her along. She follows though, not as agile as the man. It's the fault of the boots, the boots and these clunky militaristic clothing. Her hat slides over her eyes, making it almost impossible to see so when she gets behind the next bit of cover, she gets rid of it. Too bad, that scarf was really nice but someone will find it eventually and they'll probably wear it in some news footage. At least that's what she hopes. It's her bit of charity to the poor little people here.

Even if Adam had charged with all his strength, it wouldn't have made a difference. The sword's point meets Samedi as if it were but a toy — for practice, not for battle. "You call yourself a god?" he speaks with mockery, voice raising to a booming shout.

His followers know this man with the archaic weapon can't hurt their leader — but for the offense, they open fire.

For all his insistence and hurry, the Haitian on the nobler side of the line doesn't go too fast. He makes sure Hallis doesn't get left behind. "Your friend will be all right." Of this, he sounds sure. As they near one of the camp's buildings, he holds a hand up to the young woman to pause. In all the gunfire, more won't go amiss. He fires on two guards manning the building as they fire on Adam, enough to take them down. He seems to take no pleasure in firing his weapon like they do. Then, he nods at Hallis. The coast is clear to make their way around back.

Predictably, the bullets start to shred Adam's body. Bullet holes appear hear and there, clouds of crimson spewing out. Good lord it's been a long time since he's taken a punishment like this though. The volley gunfire does several things: it creates a nice little ruckus for Rene and Hallis to sneak around in, and it makes a hell of a lot of gunfire, so that Rene firing off a few rounds to kill a guard here and there goes unnoticed.

The trick is in selling it. He has to give it some flair. In true action movie style, Adam shakes and grunts and ohs and ahs as he gets plugged with lead. When they stop firing, all the wounds leaking out rivers of blood, he collapses to the ground. Hopefully, Samedi isn't smart enough to realize he's only feigning death; the baggy clothes should do a pretty good job of hiding the fact that his skin is already pushing the bullets out and closing up.
GAME: Adam has rolled IT'S JUST A FLESH WOUND!+HIGHLANDER and got a result of FANTASTIC.
The young blonde has to cup her hands over her mouth to stop from screaming as she witnesses the horrifying scene that is the death of Adam. She doesn't realize that he's just faking it, he's a good enough actor to fool her. When Rene nods to her, she starts running behind him, but trips at a rather inopportune moment, just a foot away from real cover. It is so good that Adam put the safety on her rifle before he handed it to her. Scrambling back up to a crouch, she shivers in the heat. She's never been in such a dangerous situation while she was alive and she's quite afraid that all of her friends are going to die before she can save them. Slowly, she pulls the rifle off her back and flips the safety off, she's ready to go Rambo if she needs to.

"Some god." Samedi gives a snort and a huff of air, unimpressed and, perhaps, too smug. His plan is to add insult to injury, for show with all of his devoted criminals with their eyes on the display. He swings a heavy boot toward Adam's ribs. Kicking a man while he's down.

Rene turns back and grabs the arm of the young woman, his long hand giant in comparison. "Come," he urges—

Because her trip has garnered the attention of a few of the closest men, who have formed an outer circle around the spectacle that is Adam.

As the gunfire and shouting picks up again, this time in the direction of Hallis, Rene hopefully takes her to safety around the corner, but they have to run. It seems an inopportune moment to ask the question he then poses. "Can you drive?" He looks back with an all-important stare, on the move. "Can you drive?"

Bingo. Well, maybe like bingo with 4 spaces in a row stamped; close, you can feel it, almost won the game, but…it's good enough for most. He was so hoping Samedi would kneel down and see if the Brit was really dead, but no luck today. The boot is swung at the ribs, rather than stomped down at the ribs, which gives Adam the chance to roll to the side, away from the kick, while at the same time throwing an arm out to help Samedi's kick. He gives the man a little upward push on the leg, to keep the kick moving upward and sending. The roll concludes with him hopping up and dusting himself off. "Well governor, have anything enlightening to say?"

A large smile spreads across Hallis' face and she nods quickly, "I can drive!" She sure can, she can drive right over every one of these bizznatches. She's had practice mowing people and objects over. Though the people practice was an accident, one that she's pretty sure she can make up for right here. "I can drive…" she breathes heavily after the Haitian. There's shouts and gunfire but she's too focused on Rene to do anything but let her adrenaline take her wherever he wants her to go. "Do you want me to take the truck with Sierra on it? I can do that…"

Shouts erupt from the followers of Baron Samedi. Surprise, awe, panic — anger. Who dares go up against him? Is this a clash of the titans? For some, the display is enough to draw their attention away from those sneaking around the encampment. The men carrying the other girls shove them in the back of the Jeep with Sierra; bound and too scared to move, they stay there. One is an American, while the other looks like a Haitian girl, and both are crying.

Samedi is a man rarely surprised, but there's always an exception for everyone. He goes down hard with a thud in the dirt. Of course, it harms him none and barely even jars him. He lumbers to his feet, glaring death at Adam; but within that hate is intrigue. "Ah. I see you have power. And yet… you bleed."

Breathing hard as well but swift-moving, Rene crouches at the far corner of the building, looking around: in sight is the Jeep in which the girls are is draped… and nearby, the back of Samedi. "Yes. There is a path— it leads to the village." He gets to his feet, standing tall, rifle at the ready. "When I start to fire… run."

"Well, it's like shades of gray, really. I have power. You have power. I bleed. You're puncture-resistant, it would seem." That having been said, it looks like they're going to have an old-fashioned brawl on their hands. So, why not get the dance started? Adam starts, trying to lead, by feinting to the left, then coming back with a huge right hook. Can't cut them? Just smash them!

The safety is still off on Hallis' rifle, whether it's on purpose or an oversight it unknown but when Rene starts to fire, she starts to run. Weapon in hand she sprints in the clunky boots toward the Jeep. Rene's a great shot because it seems like every man that she comes up on, he falls to the ground before she gets hit. It's like a nightmare she had a few weeks ago, except that instead of trying to escape an Earthquake, she's trying to escape people who suffered in an earthquake. Too bad Alex isn't here to teach these guys a lesson.

The Jeep is within a few paces and she jumps to clear it and clamber into the driver's seat. Then she looks down, three pedals, and there's a stick on a hump in the middle of the floor. "Shit… shitshitshitshitshitshitshit!!" Hallis pounds the steering wheel with her hands and throws a tiny princess fit. It's a stick shift. She can't drive stick.

Swords, fists; it's all the same. Baron Samedi is attacked and his response is to be as iron. His head snaps to one side with half the momentum a normal person would have after such a right hook. Unflinching, unhurt. With a gruff roar under his breath, the Haitian warlord returns a swing at Adam and charges full steam ahead. He plays dirty, trying to grab for the man's throat.

And all around, gunfire.

In the Jeep, the American girl, a latino roughly the age of Hallis, scrambles weakly to the front seat. "Please," she squeaks, hiccupping, terrified. "Please get us out of here! I— please!" As she looks at Hallis with doe eyes as though her very life depends on her — because it does — a trembling hand reaches out and clutches the stick shift. Team work…? "Together."

Dirty? You wanna talk about dirty? Samedi might go for the throat, but Adam isn't opposed to going for the jewels. "Let's…see…how…indestructable…you are…" he manages to gasp out, as he lashes a knee out, aimed directly for Samedi's (hopefully) soft spot. All the while, the bigger man's bigger hands start to choke the Brit, while he punches away at the side of Samedi's face; his knuckles get bloody, but heal as they get torn. He looks less concerned about the impending lack of oxygen, intending for that kick to bring the warlord down.

When the American girl scrambles into the front, Hallis just shifts to the side to allow the other girl into the driver's seat. "I've got the gun, you drive. Okay?" She has no idea how to work the pedals. Right means go, middle means brake, but who knows that magical combination to stop the vehicle from rabbit skipping across the encampment? Not Hallis.

After the girl situates herself into the driver's seat, Hallis winds into the passenger side and picks up her rifle again. "It's time to get G.I. Jane on these jerks." She mutters before pulling the butt snug against her shoulder. The Jeep jerks to a start and Hallis fires off a few rounds. If by a miracle she even hits anyone, she doesn't know it, because the recoil blows her right out of the vehicle.

The girl in the Jeep screams and stops. She's no expert driver either and she's half-conscious and terrified to boot.

The ruckus draws the attention of the men who haven't been shot down, and one of them fires at Hallis on the ground.

Samedi, while occasionally stunned by a hit, might as well have skin of armour. He stumbles back with a grunt, but it only seems to make him angry. He grapples tighter. In between being punched in the face, his twisting, glowering face looms into Adam's, his eyes growing wide with the fervor of what would normally be a kill. But not with this man.

Then, suddenly, one of Adam's punches draws blood and all the wind seems to go from Samedi's lungs. His jaw cracks. He lets go and stumbles to the side.

"Help your friend; take the women to safety!" Enter Rene, his figure where Samedi used to be before the other man careened to the side, having snuck up in his silent way behind his warlord brother. It's Adam he speaks to. "You have done well. I will take care of Samedi."

When Rene sneaks up, and the fight seems to go out of Samedi with one single punch. His fists let go of Adam's neck and his fit hit the ground, falling from the Vader-style choke hold dragging him up to his tippy-toes. Stumbling around a little, catching his breath, Adam turns his sights on the Haitian. "Good show…just…keep it to yourself, hm?" Clearly, he doesn't want to be negated, since those bruises on his neck are looking pretty vicious, growing to be nasty purple before they begin to shrink.

He claps Rene on the shoulder once, then bolts off to help Hallis and the ladies. Boots slam into the ground, kicking up dust as he makes for the chicks; the sword is an acceptable loss, not being his real sword, just one he can have remanufactured when gets back. "Get up, get in the jeep!" he yells, waving his arms. Better to make himself a target rather than Hallis…but there's always a backup plan.

She's a little slow to move, and holding her arm at an odd angle. It's possible that Hallis dislocated her shoulder when the rifle recoiled. The young woman smiles as she climbs into the back and settles in beside her unconscious best friend. "Thanks for stopping," she says, sounding a little bit grateful and breathless. Her rifle is still laying on the ground where she fell. She's dirty and when she finally moves her arm, a dark red spot at her side is starting to form. "I guess I wasn't dead after all," she says to Sierra, who can't hear her.

Samedi may be feeling a deeper pain than he has for many a year, and suffering from wounds heretofore impossible, but he's still kicking. The man gets to his feet. "Brother." He's a tough guy even without his ability … but the show of weakness has his remaining followers unsettled.

There are only a few left, and they do nothing.

It's a brother-to-brother showdown in the middle of the encampment as, in the background, Adam, Hallis, Sierra and the others try to make their escape, the American girl curling into a ball. With an expression too intense for words, Rene forcefully plants his hand on the forehead of Samedi, looming darkly, unwavering. "I stopped you once. The second time — it is over for you. 'Brother'." The warlord is pushed to his knees and the warlord starts to shake, eyes rolling back. Whatever is being done to him, he won't come back from it.

Beelining for the jeep, Adam reaches down low to scoop up the rifle from the ground. The jeep itself shakes and rocks side to side a bit as he quickly climbs in. He levels the rifle at the remaining lackeys, but he doesn't fire; they seem too shocked and practically catatonic from the sight of their 'god' having his brains scrambled like eggs. "Go go go! Drive!" he calls to the woman in the driver's seat. He seems…well, desensitized to the fact that his own shirt is bloody and punctured with bullet holes, yet he doesn't even have a scratch.

The Jeep rockets out of the emcampment like Meatloaf's bat out of hell with all the passengers bouncing along on the inside. Hallis is clinging to Sierra as if her life depended on it. She's as white as a sheet and it's not just the heat of the Haitian sun that's making the sweat bead along her forehead. With every jar of the vehicle, she winces and bites down on her lower lip not to cry. It's her penance and she's more than willing to take it for everything she's done.

* * *

"Village" was an overstatement. Maybe once, it was a small, running village of several families and interlopers, but that has all changed. Not so far from the epicentre of the earthquake to rock Haiti, the village that was spoke of has been turned upside down, already poor and now ruined. Buildings that were mostly shanties are replaced by destruction and by tents for refuge and medical aid.

But the mood of the children playing in front of the medical tent is good, and inside a nurse — doctor — volunteer? — fusses with checking a patient.

The jeep comes rumbling up the dirt 'road,' if it can even be called that. It's more or less just a flatted, opened walking path through the thick jungle that's wide enough for a car, and denoted as such by the tire ruts in the dirt. "Over there…over there!" Adam directs, pointing the girl driving to come to a halt in a cloud of dust right outside that medical tent.

The rifle is slung over his shoulder, which isn't uncommon around here. Scary, sure, but not uncommon. At least he doesn't look like Samedi's men, right? "Inside…get inside the tent," he tells the driver, sliding out to get the others out of the back.

Sierra is still unconscious and leaning against Hallis, who in turn is leaning heavily against her. The blonde woman's eyes are closed but when the vehicle comes to a jolting stop, she opens her eyes halfway. Her teeth are chattering and her body is shivering almost uncontrollably. It seems almost as though she's been 48 hours without a drink, in her hayday a withdrawal would have done that to her. But her stint in the hospital provided all the detox she needed.

"Sierra needs help, I can't carry her." The socialite says, her voice sounding just a little bit hoarse and whispery. She keeps a hold of the brunette, just until someone comes to their aid. She's not letting that one out of her sight.

Adam doesn't look like one of Samedi's men, but the Jeep is Samedi's, and those lingering at the outskirts of the village seem to recognize it, as they get undeniably nervous and skittish; even the children.

The Haitian woman, a middle-aged maternal type with incredibly long, dreaded hair in the medical tent realizes the difference, and alarm strikes when she sees the girls. "Come in, come in, bring them to me, bring them!" She and others helpfully swarm the tent to take the girls inside carefully— Hallis included. "Samedi's doing?"

"Yes…Samedi. These girls were going to be sold. I came to rescue the brunette, specifically, but the others as well. The blonde's with me." He keeps the gun close at hand, but follows into the tent. Hallis is pretty clearly starting to go into shock, and while a tiny little transfusion of some blood would patch her right up in minutes, the medic sort of interrupted that. Looks like he'll have to rely on traditional medicine for the moment!
The dark spot on her clothing has grown quite a bit during the trip, but Hallis isn't complaining. She helped, sort of, just a little bit. Maybe she provided some moral support. When the woman helping her lowers her onto one of the cots, she smiles a little, seeming a bit satisfied. «"Did I do well? Is Sierra safe?"» She says to the woman, «"I'm going to go to Heaven, you know. The Angel saved me so I could come here.»" She's still planning on making that big trip.

"He and his men — they've been coming in, stealing what supplies we get. What food and water and everything we had left." Maybe that's over now. The woman smiles at Hallis. «Are you sure you're not the angel? Anyone who comes here of their own free will is an angel, darling.» She helps Hallis to the tent while the others carry Sierra and urge the others. The younger Haitian woman who was among the captives is hugged by a villager — it was here she was stolen from.

It's a while later that a truck rumbles up the path. Like the Jeep, it's a vehicle from Samedi's camp — the one full of weapons. And like the Jeep's arrival, it stirs fear in the people, a fear that doesn't depart as the Haitian man steps out. But Rene raises his hands and speaks a few words in French, and they calm, though none can truly be said to be calm for long here.

He comes to stand inside the tent without greeting. Simply stands, hands behind his back, stern; otherwise expressionless.

"Well…here's the Haitian champion," Adam's quick to say. He'd been occupying a rough wooden bench near where the two girls are being tended too. "I take it you dealt with your brother…sufficiently for our purposes?" By that he means, does he remember his alphabet, and can he still tie his shoes, and all that sort of stuff. From the bench he rises, not wanting to be loomed over by Rene, especially not while he quips.

«"No, no, I'm not an Angel."» Hallis utters, not yet anyway. Maybe the next bell that rings will be the one bringing her wings, but not yet. When Rene arrives, Hallis twists her neck to look at him from her position on the cot and gives him a rather apologetic smile. Things could have gone very, very wrong because she's incompetent, hopefully no one will notice that part.

The answer is simple and final. "He won't be bothering any of these people again." Rene looks to Hallis; if he thinks ill of her abilities out there, no indication is made. He doesn't even seem like he's going to speak again until his rich voice crops up out of the blue again. "Was it Angela Petrelli who brought you here — or was it faith?"

"Speaking only for myself," Adam starts, leaning to the side a bit to get in Rene's field of vision. "It was Angela Petrelli, of all people. Used that annoying ability of hers to know exactly what needs to be done, and unluckily, it showed her to me. Boy, was that a meeting I wasn't expecting, considering the past we have."

Hallis' lips purse into a straight line as she considers the question. "I don't know anyone named Angela Petrelli," she says slowly, she knows Nathan, but it's New York, there could be a hundred Petrellis there. It's Italian and living in New York, she knows there's an entire little city of them. "I was in the hospital. A girl told me I had to come here with her." She never did catch Claire's name, the girl wasn't very forthcoming with information at all.

Understatement: the Haitian is not especially chatty.

Though the man does not reply to Adam, he is not irreverent. He regards the immortal man without surprise, knowingly. It's the petite blonde he speaks to once more. "In the jungle, you said you were trying to reach Heaven. Those are the words of someone looking to pay penance. Perhaps you have come to the right place."

The Haitian woman in the tent finishes tending a cut on one of the previously kidnapped girls, the other American, and after flashing a smile at Hallis and Adam, moves on to a to holding small child who was already here. One of many.

Only then does Rene turn to speak to Adam. "You have a way back?" he assumes.

"We're expecting a chopper, I do believe. They should be able to find this village, since they were provided a copy of the same map we had. I told them to rendezvous with us here in about 2 hours. I imagined that would give us more than enough time to get in and get out. Looks like I was right!" While he talks to the Haitian, he looks at Hallis, raising a brow at the idea that she's here for penance. "Seems a strange way to earn find your absolution, if I do say so myself. Doesn't the church sell favors anymore?"

Sucking a breath through her teeth, Hallis gives Adam a small shrug. "Buying a favor is cheating. If you really mean it, you have to work for it." Her hand moves to her side and she slowly sits up on the cot, wincing as she moves. She looks around the tent at all the people gathered inside and notices the almost obscene amount of children. It's quite possible that Sally Struthers will be putting on infomercials in the very near future to beg the world for Twinkie money while they suffer under the shadow of her corpulence. At least she'll provide them some good shade.

With that, the Haitian nods slowly. "I hope you find your way home," he says to both of them. In his voice, it sounds much deeper than a simple wish of safe travels; perhaps it is. He begins to stride out of the tent, quiet for such a strong looking figure. Though he travelled as well to get here, he gives no indication of a return trip.

Samedi and his men are bad news, but our heroes (so to speak) kicked their fictional butts. As you know, just like our fictional Haiti, the true Haiti really is in trouble and Heroes MUSH is doing our part in reality too. Check it out.

Be a Hero for Haiti at FirstGiving.org

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