Fear and loathing in Mexico

The two of them had crossed through the border only an hour ago, driving now down the long road that cut a swath through the desert. A long stretch of sun scorched earth without much thriving, hell if Samael had ever seen it. The sun was not exactly pleasant upon his skin, though he was lucky his skin couldn’t really be hurt by any kind of burning regardless of source. Booted foot pressed against the gas, they had been gunning it down the long highway for a thirty minutes now, likely putting some strain upon the poor trucks gas stores at some point. Sleep had become nothing more than a distant memory, something nice he enjoyed fully once but not much lately. Not like he was exactly in a place he enjoyed or even in a state of mind he liked to be in. His head had been swimming with thoughts, too many and not all of them pleasant.

Knuckles turned white from grasping onto the wheel, pale as bone as some music Ashley had put on flowed through the vehicle in a hum that lost all lyrical composition to him at some point. It was all pointless noise,  something that filled his ear canals and likely kept him from going into madness. ”I swear this country is nothing but sand.” He spoke up, eyes black behind sunglasses scanning over the horizon for anything that would resemble civilization but nothing close came up got ten minutes. Few vehicles even save for the odd eighteen wheeler they drove past, not even turning to consider them until they came upon something. Not what they were looking for, but there was always the odd stop before reaching their main destination. That was an hour from here, where he was supposed to meet their contact and hopefully get what they came for without much more of an annoyance.

Finally breaking through into the squalor of a larger city made it all feel more like the states, the streets below offering only really a few bumps along the way.  All public streets had those, luckily none of them were the people. One thing he did not need was more trouble with dead people, especially  considering that the US government were looking for him as it was. Eight counts of murder and breaking from prison, now that was not a way to get ones sentences dealt with. Their place in the city wasn’t any of the bustling business portions, but the seedier places that all cities had at some point. Criminals working together,  and sometimes the supernatural crime crossed over into the more mundane kind.

Weaving through the streets they came upon what could be charitably be called a seedy bar. ”So Ashley, how good’s your spanish?” Samael asked, arcing a single brow, hoping for an answer that wasn’t not very good or some sarcastic variant of that. Regardless he had leaned over digging through the glove compartment, regardless of how close he did get to breaching Ashley’s space. Revealing that the space itself was able to hold more than what it looked like, returning to sitting in his seat. ”There are a few weapons in there, just pick something out. I’ll glamour you afterwards.”

I asked these to be deleted. Instead I got banned. Great friends, eh?

He looked at Ashley as he removed a few weapons from the glove compartment, choosing something simple and easy to conceal should they need to fight. ”Who knows, might end up fighting us a Chalupacarba.” Samael noted with a wry smirk, silently checking his weapons kept within his clothes and the few that were hidden within a glamour that likely even Ashley could not see through. ”Be careful with that gun. Bullets blow up, might take us and them with it. Don’t want to get blown up, not exactly my thing.” Sammy added in, to make sure that Ashley understood the circumstance he was putting himself into when holding that weapon. ”Grab some body armor out of there too. Don’t need you getting shot up.” Checking the thin sheet of ballistic armor under his shirt, augmented by the rune Sammy stepped out of the vehicle, feeling the crunch of his boot meeting street.

”let me do the talking then.” Samael said when he mentioned not being able to speak spanish, sighing in a slightly annoyed sense but offering a smile that showed he wasn’t actually angry at him. Walking through the front door, he took in the smell of dirt and alcohol, burning his nose and causing his eyes to water slightly. This was not something he enjoyed walking into, but there was little that he could do as far as needed things. People turned towards them, some with half lidded eyes and likely hands upon their weapons. ”Follow my lead.” He said, sidling up to the bar and holding up two fingers as they were brought two beers, settling down the money and resting elbows on the bar.

Martyr turned very serious after mention of his most hated enemy. ”Don't joke about that. My cousin in Alberta said that he was almost ripped apart by
one… Man, I didn't think they went that far north…” Martyr went ahead and checked the gun to make sure it was loaded, then nodded at Sammy. ”While normally I’d just make a stupid remark about my survival rate; but considering our current arrangements, I will just follow your orders. After this Martyr grabbed some armor from the back and took off his coat. He strapped on the armor, then put the coat back on. Sure, the coat was incredibly hot in the desert; but Martyr wore it for intimidation. He shoved a black cowboy hat on his head and followed Sammy.

Martyr grinned at his faux annoyance and gave Sammy a little peck on the cheek before wiping the stupid grin off his own face. He took in the sights and smells, seeing that someone was glaring at him from the corner. Martyr glared back; and the man quickly looked away. He was used to the smells of a bar. Martyr followed Sammy’s lead, and sat at one of the chairs. He took his beer, and gagged it down. Tasted like swill, but he did his best to act as if he was enjoying the awful beverage. He really hoped Mexico had better alcohol somewhere…

”Just tell her not to keep any goats around.” Samael noted with a half contained grin, cheeks taking on an odd tinge of black when the peck had been settled onto it. Hiding the black blood part was always the hardest part, though a few people found it intimidating. With both of them settled into the table and downed the beer brought to him. A few people glared at them, and a pull down of his sunglasses managed to make them look away, some even making the sign of the cross with their fingers.  All so very funny, though he didn’t know if that would actually do anything to him.

It took a few minutes, and a few beers for someone to sit down at their seat. Looking dressed for the dive bar, with a weathered face and a few scars dug into tanned flesh. ”So, you’re my contact.” His finger tapped against the table, briefly revealing the black talons his fingernails could become with a thought.

”I am. I had heard The Son of the Raven would be here but not The Martyr of Vegas.” He spoke in spanish, Sam translating to Martyr in English only when he asked for it, but he did make sure to give  a proper one.

”Let’s focus on what I wanted. You said you knew someone who could return something that was lost.” He returned on spanish, causing the male to smirk.

”Well, the only thing I can promise is to take something away.” As if following a signal, the doors were thrown in and people rose with automatic weapons. His leg jerked up, kicking the table over and quickly whipping something out, drawing a rune over it with a rather practiced quickness. Enough so that when the bullets started flying it didn’t break apart.

”Ashley, we need to get out of here!”

Martyr was surprised by Sammy not taking the threat of a Mexican food based nightmare seriously. The Chalupacabra was a genuine threat to farmers everywhere! Though he kept his mouth shut and stewed over it into his beer.

The man that had arrived looked to Martyr like a helpful bandit from an old west film. Or maybe he was the guy that was going to betray them and make the plot more interesting. He supposed it could be that he was just a kindly old man that was here to help Sammy out of the kindness of his heart.

However, when Sammy translated that he had recognized Martyr his hope fell. No one who would immediately recognize him probably had good feelings towards him. Sounded like a fight.

Martyr kept his eye on him, but kept his hopes that the man would turn out to be a good person just wanting to help out an old pal.

It was no shock to Ashley that the man quickly pulled out an automatic weapon when the man smirked. Ashley quickly fell behind the table, hoping for the best.

He looked at the marker that Sammy put down and had a bright idea. He took one leg of the table and hoisted it up into the air. He knew he couldn't hold it for long, but hoped Sammy had the same idea as he quickly hoisted Sammy to his feet behind the table and started moving towards the only exit.

"I knew he was the Judas!" Martyr yelled from behind his makeshift shield.

Bullets ricocheted off the table, seemingly unable to make break through the otherwise flimsy surface. Damn did he enjoy demon magic right now, when it was what he needed most of all. Keeping Ashley and him safe from a hail of sharp metal that would have otherwise fucked them up. Reaching for one of the weapons at his ankle, Samael fired off a single shot when he had the chance into the ceiling, colliding with thick materials and catching half way in. Letting off a few more shots, burying into the floor and one of them into a leg.

”A pain in my ass if you ask me.” He shouted loud enough over the hail of bullets, quickly spying a way out of this situation they were in. ”Stick close to me!” Pressing the flat of his foot against the table, a hard push sent the thing careening forward with all the force that he could put behind it. Slamming into a few people and likely severing one in half.

Wrapping an arm around the other males arm, he seemed to effortlessly hoist him up into a standing position and make a beeline towards the back of the bar. Smashing through the door like matchsticks and seeing the place beyond. A small little room, with a few people huddled as if to hide from the bullets that zipped around.

”Get the hell out of here now!” He shouted in their native tongue, From there was dashing through the back entrance, smashing out there as he said one single thing.

”Thirty.” With that an explosion rang out from the building, the people he had shouted out running out ahead of the as flames began to lick up from the windows and smoke poured. Something had exploded in there, and Sam looked pleased with that. ”Well...that was a train wreck and a half. Looks like I...totally forgot to interrogate the fucker. Goddammit.”

The ceiling of the dive bar caved in then.

Martyr couldn't believe the chaos surrounding him as he moved through the bar. The table seemed to be handling the bullets quite well, and Sammy was certainly following Martyrs improvised plan to the T. Everything seemed like it was going to turn out fine. Sammy threw the table across the room and killed at least one person, and distracted plenty more.

Martyr didn't quite understand what Sammy had said, but he did manage to catch the jist of it as the people exited the bar so fast it made his head spin.

It was then that the explosion happened. Martyr liked explosions and he threw his arms into the air to celebrate. "So cool!" He yelled, before people started getting frisky and started shooting at them.

Martyr dragged Sammy to the truck and jumped into the drivers seat. He threw it into reverse, but the ceiling collapsing seemed to discourage a majority of them from shooting at the car.

However, someone did manage to hit the radiator as he rode up from the front on his bike. Martyr shot back, a good shot to the mans upper spine. It most likely wouldn't kill him. Just scar him for life...and maybe make him a vegetable.

Martyr drove out onto the road with the car blasting white steam.

Ashley had a similar idea to him, which involved running away before they got themselves killed by someone. Rather, kill Ashley and leave him shit out of luck. He was the whole reason they were down in New Mexico in the first place and that meant getting the hell out of here. So the two of them made their way back to the truck as quickly as possible, likely slowed down by the fact that Ashley was slower than him.

Pedal to the metal was the order of the day, and so they were driving off. Bullets flying at their vehicle while he tried to get them going. Something was hit likely an important thing but they were already flying like the wind, with Ashley returning the fire that rang out through the air, mingling with something popping and banging around in a noisy way that his ears could not ignore.

With one hand on the wheel he shot one of the people down, not caring much for pulling his lethal shots as the motorcycle went tumbling and knocked a stand down somewhere around. This driving would not last too long as the vehicle itself began to swerve and crash itself through the front of a building, Samael quickly reaching out to steady himself and prevent Ashley from being propelled forward, unable to keep himself from doing the same.

Smashing through glass and into brickwork with a resounding crack.

Ashley had barely avoided flying out of the car. He could feel his lower half sliding towards the floor, if it weren't for Sammy's hand and also super strength; Ashley was certain he would be part of the paint job of the place. Ashley had to be careful now that he was entirely human.

He had secretly brought some of the metahuman drug - Spark - but he wasn't sure if it would even work on him now that the serum had completely destroyed his powers. And if it did; how did he know it wouldn't just overload him like he had about it doing to so many others? No. For right now he would rely on Sammy. Sammy knew what he was doing. Ashley just had to rely on him. Never let him down before.

Ashley got out of the car and popped his shoulder back into place manually. It certainly wasn't easy, or painless. But when you deal with stuff like that on a daily basis; you end up getting used to the pain.

Ashley walked over to Sammy and opened the door. "You good, man?" He asked as if they hadn't just almost died.

Like the immovable wall it was, bricks came to meet his hurtling body with a loud thud. A low groan issuing from him as he began to slide down the wall, eventually touching the ground and flopping onto it with the sound of a few joints popping from the sudden impact, Luckily there was nothing important broken beyond a few ribs which were likely cracked, proving this body of his was by no means indestructible. Each movement lead to s spine screaming in annoyance, not stopping him from slowly moving to his feet and wiping away the small trickle of black blood from the perforated forehead already sealing itself shut.

”I’m fine.” Fingers ran through messy ginger hair, looking up to Ashley and then the people that were already running from the person that crashed into their shop. Looking to the vehicle now smashed into the front of the shop with an almost forlorn expression, he approached it and sighed. ”And now my trucks fucked up. This is just brlliant.” pressing the flats of his hand against the front, a large grunt of exertion came from Samael as he began to push. Unsettled fragmented brick from its position, and causing a few to fall against his head with no real result.

Eventually after a minute or two, with beads of sweat trickling down his forehead the truck itself dislodged from the building and rolled back a few feet before stopping entirely. ”We probably have a few minutes at most before they catch up. Not sure if any runes I have can actually fix this damn trash heap up in time.” He leapt into the passengers seat, volently ripping through a small rune that was carved under the dash board. He did not want them accessing the little subspace of weapons he fixed into the vehicle. Claws faded back into fingernails as he jumped out, hands resting on his waist.

”We’re probably going to have to ditch this trash heap. Find something a little...less broken.” That was when he noticed the sun was beginning to go down and he was  getting a little tired. ”but, let’s find us a hotel first. While going non-stop sounds nice and all I would rather not have to deal with the fatigue that comes with it.’ Taking the back entrance of the shop with the expectation of having Ashley follow, he helped himself to the money in the register and slipped it into his slightly ruined jacket pocket. ”Not like this place wasn’t going to fail anyhow. Wonder if this city even has a luxury hotel.”

He had a feeling the answer was no.

Ashley nodded to Samael, and looked at the environment. They'd need to move quickly, most likely before someone called the authorities... if they weren't busy with the mass murder, that is.  

Ashley nodded to Sammy, and pulled out a wad of cash. The remaining money he had lifted from Vegas. He checked it. "We've got about... 500 Pesos." He said nodding towards the town. "Let's see if we can find a hotel that doesn't advertise exclusively towards roaches." Martyr said with a smile.

He looked towards the town. "Think we can make it there before some cartel finds us?" He asked. He had a good amount of drugs on him, and he certainly didn't think it would be great if they had found them with those.