Destiny's eyes go a little wide at the whole bike thing, "Not running, just expected to run." But she gives it her best try.
There's an old joke. It goes like this:
Bob and Jim are camping. Why are they camping? Who knows. Maybe Bob's going through a divorce. Maybe Jim watched Deliverance and thinks that civilization has made them soft. Maybe Jim didn't really understand Deliverance. Maybe I'm getting off track.
Anyway, it's nighttime and they're ready to turn in. They've both taken their shoes off and are dressed however it is you're dressed when you go to sleep out in the wilderness. I'm picturing those one-piece old timey underwear jumpsuits with the trapdoor for the butt.
Right at that moment, a grizzly bear shambles out of the dark.
Bob gets up to run. Jim calmly sits down on a rock and pulls on his sneakers, taking his time to get them laced up the right way.
"What the hell are you doing?" Bob yells. "That's a grizzly bear! You know how fast those things are?"
And Jim gets up, cool as you please, stretching first one leg and then the other. "You're missing the point, Bob," Jim says. "I don't have to outrun him. I just have to outrun you."
...which is the situation Ren shortly finds himself in.
The three employees of the Burger Emperor carry the bikes into the shaded avenue between high and middle schools. All around they see the shambling forms of ricos, but none spot them. They emerge onto 15th Street and mount up.
And here's where a rico or two spot them. They let out moans and begin that dinnerbell trot to take a taste.
As for Ren, he puts his weight on the pedals, and he's off. He'd have made it all the way to Bradford's if he could.
The problem is Bradford. He hasn't really ridden a bike in a minute, and it's true that you never forget how, but you can be out of practice. The front wheel wobbles and he comes to a resting stop against a beat-up Nissan Sentra.
And two ricos close in with more on the way.
Time for initiative, morsels.
"Don't stop moving," Ren helpfully advises, as he cuts to circle back.
Ren's going to attempt to lure off / distract the ricos so that Bradford can get back on the move.
"O.. Okay." Destiny pants out as she tries to continue to put distance between bitey crazies and herself.
Ren springs into action. He's really, really good on a bike. Like a bike centaur. A bicentaur. Wait, that could be a... never mind.
Point is, Ren sweeps back on the bike and the two closest ricos immediately peel off to pursue him, but Ren is always juuuust out of reach.
This gives both Bradford and Destiny a little breathing room to get moving again... but boy are they bad with bikes. Bradford is having trouble extricating his bike from the car he ran into, and Destiny is wobbling all over the place.
The other ricos are closing in. Everyone give me a bike riding roll to escape!
With the assistance of Ren's distraction, Destiny and Bradford are able to get the bikes started up, and all three of Burger Emperor's graveyard crew is able to make it up the street and away from immediate danger.
Immediate is, of course, the operative word.
The ricos haven't massed, so that's something, but they seem to be everywhere. As the three bikes pass, the ricos are distracted from their hungry wandering, heads turning like curious prairie dogs. And then, begin to shamble after in slow but inexorable pursuit.
After losing EPs, the graveyard shift finds themselves on Bradford's street. The ricos are denser here, and continuing on the bikes will mean combat. There's still the opportunity for a stealthy approach through backyards, but it does mean leaving the bikes behind for now.
Ren reluctantly sets aside the bicycle and changes to Stealth Ren mode.
Mostly that's just Ren thinking quietly. He turns to Bradford as the guide for the rest of the trek.
Having a history of sneaking out at night, and of sneaking in after a party, Bradford knows the best ways to get to his house unseen. He motions for Ren and Destiny to follow him.
Bradford does have a route. It's lengthy, but it's served him well whenever he had to get out. It traverses the entire length of the street, using a couple backyards, a single wall, and even a short almost-alley that Bradford is pretty sure shouldn't be there. The start... or finish, depending on which part of the night you're in, is right here.
Bradford reaches over the wooden fence door that belongs to the Marinkoviches and lifts the latch with practiced ease, leading the way into their backyard. The elderberry trees grow thick here, along with dense rose bushes, that basically make you invisible from the house, so long as you run hunched-over. All you need to do is get to the end of the yard, and hop the fence into the next one. Easy peasy.
Bradford leads the way in. A sound, like something being dragged through a living room, emanates from the Marinkovich residence. Bradford gets to the end of the yard and prepares to hop the fence.
Bradford easily vaults the fence and comes down in the backyard of the Tenerelli home. One of the smallest houses on the block means one of the biggest backyards, which includes a pool. The route here goes behind their cabana, shed, and laundry room. Only problem is, there's a rico back here. It looks like Paul Tenerelli, wandering around back here with syrupy blood coming from his nose and mouth.
Bradford has a split-second to react before he's spotted. Paul's about 15 feet away. Oh yeah, and either Destiny or Ren is coming over that fence and they have no idea what they're about to run into.
What does Bradford do?
Bradford feels like one rico, especially Mr. Tenerelli, is something he can handle.
Just loud enough for Destiny and Ren to hear on the other side of the fence, Bradford stage-whispers "We've got a rico!"
Bradford sprints to the cabana where the pool tools are kept. He's going for the long pole with the brush used to clean the algae. He'd like to push Mr. Tenerelli into the pool. That should slow him down, and it will test the theory that ricos can't swim.
Bradford runs for the pool house, but he's half a step too slow. Mr. Tenerelli turns around and a sepulchral moan claws its way from his throat. He lunges forward right as Bradford drops the baseball bat and gets his hands on the pool net.
Up and over the fence! Clearly Bradford needs Ren's help.
Ren attempts to vault the low wooden fence, but doesn't quiiiiiite make it. He scrapes himself across the top and comes down a bit funny on the other side to the tune of damage.
Bradford grabs the pool skimmer. The other tools fall to the floor with a loud clatter. He hooks Mr. Tenerelli, and for a single, sweet moment, looks like he's going to pull off his awesome saving-the-community-center combat move.
But he steps left when he should have stepped right, his feet get tangled up, and instead of Mr. Tenerelli going into the pool, it's Bradford. The splash is loud.
Mr. Tenerelli, focused on the now dunked Bradford, lets out another moan. Ren can hear answering moans coming from the direction of the street. Mr. Tenerelli takes a step toward the pool. Then another. And SPLASH!
Now Bradford can contend with an underwater rico.
"Ow ow ow," Ren says, hopping toward the pool. He looks for the pool skimmer, or some other adjacent tool, so he can pull Bradford out of the--
Ren remembers his attempts to haul ricos off people in the past. He looks for something he can use to poke the rico and keep it away from Bradford while Bradford swims to safety.
Bradford swims for the edge of the pool, in the opposite direction of Mr. Tenerelli.
Mr. Tenerelli sinks to the bottom of the pool like a stone that also happens to be a bad swimmer. He is quickly surrounded by a frothing pink cloud as both he and Bradford thrash around in an uncanny impression of a shark attack.
Bradford doesn't see a whole lot. His eyes burn from chlorine. Mostly he sees the blue-white of the water swiftly changing color as the bloody mess that is Mr. Tenerelli starts changing things. And... let's be honest here. It's sheer, blind luck that Tenerelli doesn't get his mitts all over Bradford. One inch one way or the other, and Bradford would be learning how to breathe pool water.
...but he doesn't. A kick, maybe two, and he has a head start on Mr. Tenerelli. He's not out of the woods... or pool... but he's on the way.
Ren runs for the pool tools. The skimmer floats on the surface. Bradford's baseball bat sits on the ground by the side of the pool. There's some barbecuing tools, including a big meat fork and a giant spatula. There's also one of those basket orange-pickers, which is on a long wooden pole.
Destiny clambers over the fence and sees the usual chaos. Bradford is at the surface of the pool, splashing around as he swims hard for an edge. There's definitely a human shape walking along the bottom of it, reaching for him. And Ren's trying to decide on a tool.
It's days like this that make Bradford wonder why he didn't go in for swim team like he did track. There's only so many hours in the day, he'd guess. But with Mr. Tenerelli walking along the bottom of the pool hoping to nab him, Bradford redoubles his swimming efforts.
Ren grabs the orange picker basket.
And attempts to plop the basket over the rico’s head.
Bradford momentarily loses his bearings in the churning water and doesn't get much of anywhere. The basket on the orange picker isn't really big enough to fit Mr. Tenerelli's head, but Ren puts it in front of where his face kind of looks like... refraction making it kind of hard to really tell. In any case, Mr. Tenerelli is momentarily distracted, but he does manage to get his hand on the pole.
Destiny runs to the side of the pool and leaning over, she grabs Bradford by the wrist and hauls him to the edge. Bradford gasps for air, his heart hammering.
Ren loves the water, but has no desire to be yanked into the pool with Mr. Tenerelli. If the rico's hand is on the pole, Ren lets it go.
Bradford grabs his bat as he gets to his feet. "Thanks, guys," he says to Destiny and Ren. "Let's get out of here before more ricos figure out where all this noise is coming from. We're almost to my house."
Mr. Tenerelli continues to flail at the bottom of the pool, but it doesn't look like he'll be out of there any time soon. Most disturbingly, he doesn't seem to need to breathe. He's still moving, albeit slowly. The water around him is a deep pink fading out to the light blue of normal pool water.
Bradford is soaked, head to toe. As Burger Emperor's graveyard crew catches their breaths, they hear the moaning from the street is much closer now. A gate leading into this backyard rattles.
Bradford leads the way over the next fence, and from here, there's a short semi-alley that will take them almost the length of the block. But right before hopping the fence, Ren hears a tapping sound.
He turns, and after a moment of hunting, sees the source. A girl, about 14 or 15, in an upstairs room. Her eyes are wide, pleading. She taps again and clearly mouths the words Help me.
Ren holds out his hands in a Stay There type of motion. He goes back to the barbeque tools and picks up the large fork skewer. He looks for a way into the house.
The house has a couple ways in from the back. There's a back door and several windows. What Ren does not see is a way to climb the house to get in through the second floor.
The door is unlocked, as are the windows.
Ren takes the easy way and goes in through the door. He attempts to be quiet , keeping on the lookout for any ricos in the house .
The door opens and sliiiiiiiiiide a broom that had been resting against the jamb rakes across the wall and lands on the floor in an impossible racket. Did that thing have an amplifier? Seems like it.
Ren pauses, his head cocked, the barbecue fork clutched in his hand. He hears a thump upstairs... something heavy and dragging. And a crunch, like a foot on broken glass maybe a few rooms away.
Ren is not one for introspection. He searches for the stairs, hoping to avoid the direction of the broken glass footstep.
Bradford was content to wait a minute if Ren dropped something. But that clattering sound.
"Dammit, Ren," mutters Bradford. "We should see what he's up to," he says to Destiny before hopping back over the fence.
More concerned than annoyed, Destiny climbs over the fence, following in Ren's very stealthily path.
Ren finds himself in a laundry room. One that still has a plastic basket of clothes sitting on top of the dryer. He creeps to the doorway that leads into a kitchen. The remains of breakfast sit on the table: half-filled bowls of Froot Loops.
...and of course the dead guy. He's on the floor, his skull cracked, and a bloody meat tenderizer laying next to him. Ren makes his way to the door leading into the house...
...and a rico lunges! Ren's reflexes are cat quick, and he lurches backwards. She's a woman, in a bathrobe and a flannel nightgown. A bite mark, covered in gummy blood, stretches on the webbing between her thumb and the rest of her hand. A moan issues from her mouth as she reaches for Ren.
Ren is now a combat monster. But the monster may be Sulley.
Ren stabs at the woman with the oversized bbq fork. As dangerous as the face of a rico is, he stabs toward her eye with the fork.
Bradford follows the sounds to the kitchen and Ren's predicament.
"Dude!" he says to Ren. "Don't just wander off!"
Swinging his bat, Bradford engages the rico fighting Ren.
"There's a girl upstairs, she asked for help," Ren says, focused in his intent to skewer the advancing rico.
Ren pokes the rico. The tine of thee bbq fork scrapes along her skull. It doesn't do a whole lot, but it opens up a bit of space between him and the lunging dead woman...
...enough for Bradford to do his batter up bit. She drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes and is still.
"And you couldn't have said that before disappearing?" Bradford shakes his head. Is he turning into his father? That sounds like something Dad would say.
"Whatever. Let's rescue the girl and get the hell out of here."
Ren shrugs. "They seem to notice when we make noise."
"Also it sounds like something is shuffling upstairs."
Ren nevertheless continues to look for the stairs.
Ren and Bradford creep into the living room. A big picture window opens out onto the street. The glass has been shattered, and covers the couch in front of the window and the carpet beyond. Blood is spattered around.
Perhaps more importantly, there are the ricos on the street. Most of them are facing broadly the direction of the house. They're staggering toward the house next door, but it's pretty obvious that any sight of you or errant sound... say, walking across some broken glass... could very well attract their attention.
The stairs, leading up to where Ren spotted the girl, are on the other side of the living room. Gonna have to cross... somehow.
Ren goes back to his point of entry into the building, and picks up the broom that fell over when he opened the door. He returns to the living room, holds it toward Bradford, and raises his eyebrows in some sort of silent question.