I wanna run to you, I wanna run to you…
Won’t you hold me in your arms, And keep me safe from harm…
If horror films had taught him anything, it’s that you always wanna be able to run faster than your friends. You can always make new friends.
“How did you…?”
“I’m Bailey, I know everything.”
He felt a back-to-the-head slap, from behind him. “What…ouch?!”
“Also her,” Miranda Bailey motioned, thumb pointing to the backseat passenger.
“The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.” He tried a bit of levity, hoping to cool April’s ire. If you looked closely one could almost see the steam shooting through her head and ears.
“Duh. You don’t say? It’d be a terrific innovation if you could get your mind to stretch a little further than the next wisecrack, Jackass.”
He winced. He deserved the attack on his moronic level of intellect. He’d also earned every insulting jibe she could come up with. If it wasn’t for her, he knew that the least that would have happened would have been his arrest for multiple murders instead of the actuality of leaving Krista Mankles to the ignominious death she deserved.
Let that sick community try and explain what was about to be discovered there and how they were not complicit in the crimes of stealing Black Lives.
“Why are you doing such dumb shit, Jackson?”
“In my defense, I was left unsupervised…” Still with the jests. He couldn’t seem to stop. If he got serious, the true impact of what had almost happened would hit him. And he knew he would lose it.
To distract himself, he looked towards Dr. Bailey, whose lips were curled in a slight smirk as she listened to their bickering while driving them away from “The Sunken Hell”, and he considered the fact that April had managed to convince their Chief that he needed rescuing.
He reflected on a recent phrase he’d heard, “Don’t mistake meanness for strength. It ain’t.” Dr. Bailey might be gruff exterior, but she wasn’t mean. Or mean-spirited. And neither was April either of those. They both were the strongest women he knew, though.