Seldom Six Feet Under

Chapter Thirteen: Reunited

          Despite the unavoidable clinging of the keys, the two did their best to be as quiet as possible. The doctor had his back arched, leaning over the doorknob with the pilot at his side. Chris didn't let his hand stray too far from Ryder's back, just hovering over it. He had his sunglasses folded in his free hand, scoping out the hallway anxiously. His tongue roamed the front of his teeth, then clicked against the roof of his mouth when he lowered his gaze to the one in front of him. "You're positive this is the right move?" He questioned, keeping his voice down.

   "Absolutely," Ryder grumbled back in response. With a click, the door unlocked and the doctor straightened his back. He stuffed the set of keys into his pants pocket as he twisted the knob, pushing the door open quickly with a bit of force.

      The two slipped in, one more hesitant than the other. Chris grabbed a hold of the inside doorknob and pressed his back to the door. He leaned backwards so the door would shut as he did, then spectated the other as he browsed through a variety of weapons. The pilot flipped his sunglasses back onto his face and folded his arms. "I dunno, RyRy," he hummed. "This whole plan seems a little far fetched."

      His words went through one ear and out the other, evidently more focused on selecting the necessary tool. The selection and variety of firearms and melees was a bit overwhelming, even if they were aware that not all of it came from the military. It was actually rather sad knowing they weren't. Even if some belonged to those stationed in the parking lot, it was sickening to know some were no longer there. But that's exactly what it was all about. It was about putting a stop to this. It would all end with this. All of it.

      And it was only a matter of time 'til the doctor realized his co-pilot, and the only pilot, was still blabbering on edge. "Even with all the noise in the world, would it really be possible to draw in a ton of freaks from the city to here? You know how high security is here! And-And if we fail and Dennis catches us, our heads are going to be displayed on steaks! Steaks, I tell ya! Our heads!"

   "You're seriously still going...?" Ryder growled to himself, delicately picking an assault rifle off the rack and examining it thoroughly. He shut one eye and aimed the gun up towards the wall, then lowered it again and gazed around for ammunition.

      His eyes landed on Chris, who'd started pacing around the room with his hands clenching his hair. Ryder narrowed his eyes behind his glasses, just watching and hardly having the nerve to care. "That man is going to kill us, Ryder. We'll quite literally BE toast!" He then spun on his heel to face Ryder. "You're not still high, are you?!" He rose his voice in clear panic.

   "What? No," Ryder replied with a hiss.

      The distressed ridden man continued to shout. "Are you sure this isn't the weed talking?! People get crazy ideas sometimes, man! Tell me you're not one of them!"

      Defeated, Ryder huffed and shook his head. "No, Chris. I-I'm not high. Though I am craving pretzels still," he then held a hand out towards him in attempt to calm his nerves. "You need to turn it down a notch, though. Especially if you're so worried about them finding out."

      With a squeak, Chris slapped his hands over his mouth and nervously eye'd the door, that was just the same as how he left it. "Now I need you to listen to me," Ryder went on, regaining the other's attention. "You seriously need to calm down and get level with me. I can't do this without you, Chris. I need your full concentration, you got that?" He nodded quickly, eyes locked on the other's. "There's going to be a change in plans. Can you relax so I can tell you? Will you be relaxed?" He nodded again, waiting eagerly with sweat forming under his bandanna.

      Although they tried so desperately to prevent it, they were soon interrupted when they realized the doorknob was turning. Chris twirled over to confront the door, however not whoever was behind it. He squealed and ducked down behind a table, holding his head with his arms. Seeing as though the firearm in his hands was already loaded, Ryder swiftly held it up again and aimed at the door as it opened.