Ch. 16g Working for the man (Lawrence)

[Philulhu]

”He was out on the plantation, somewhere. Some of the workers brought him in, said he’d been bitten. We couldn’t do nothin’ for him. He was too far gone by then,” said Hank with a sad shake of his head.

[Bullfrog]

"Well, I wish he'd made it... If only so I could have a word with him about all these tools he left me." 'Neil' remarks, looking back at his unfinished work.
"I guess I'll stick to getting my preaching from Daigle. Good man, real pious- now that I think of it, why do you suppose Brian raised such a fuss at church if he was so deep in religion? Seems real odd to me."

[Philulhu]

”I really don’t know,” replied Hank, ”But once he got the idea of snakes into his head, he just wasn’t the same.”

[Bullfrog]

"Mind's a funny thing. It fixes on the strangest of things... It's like blinders on a horse. Your eyes fix forward, and that's that..."'Neil' remarks, although it would be more accurate to say that this is Lawrence's own thoughts on life itself. He'd worn blinders his whole life, unaware there was anything but the forward march of time towards the same quiet life his father had lived, but now they'd been torn away, and he wasn't sure what direction was the right one. If nothing else, he knew what to flee from.
"I think I'll get back to work. Last guy definitely wanted to keep me busy."

[Philulhu]

Hank left him to it and ‘Neil’ made good progress in tidying up the workshop. That proved to be both a blessing and a curse; the room certainly looked the better for it, but it was also much easier to see all the snake carvings now…

At 6.00pm, a whistle sounded from the direction of Henry Jones’ cabin and ‘Neil’ could hear the sound of voices as men started leaving the oilfields and heading back to their cabins.

What’s Lawrence doing? Heading to his bunk? Something else?

[Bullfrog]

I think Lawrence is going to be returning to the boarding house to speak with the others.

[Philulhu]

Packing up and rinsing his hands under the water pump, ’Neil headed out the main gate towards town. About half way back, he heard a commotion in one of the fields adjacent to the road.

A young, dark-skinned woman woman - one of those who worked in the cotton fields - looked over the fence at him. ”Mistuh, can you help?! It’s ma brother! I think he’s bin bitten by a snake!”

[Bullfrog]

Lawrence hesitates, staring blankly. He was an out-of-towner, as far as anybody knew- but could the truth have already escaped? Nyatanga and his agents could be anywhere, and they certainly wouldn't have forgotten the face of the man who had slain one of their sacred snakes...

Lawrence blinks, and rubs his temple. This work was getting to him, and always had been; but whether this was a trap or not, he couldn't stand to leave a possible innocent to die. He'd done it too many times already.
"Sure thing," he says, "I could see what I can do. Where's he at?"

[Philulhu]

”Jus’ here,” the woman replied, pointing in the direction of a nearby tree, where another woman knelt by a young man with light brown skin, who was sitting propped up against the trunk. His trousers had been torn up as far as his knee and Lawrence could see twin trickles of blood running down his calf. His skin glistened with sweat.

The woman knelt by the man was talking to him. ”Stay wit’ us, Ezekiel. Dis man’s gonna help you.”

[Bullfrog]

"Sit still, now. Did you get a look at that snake? And more importantly, have you got a doctor in town?" Lawrence comments, kneeling down to have a look at the bite. He'd done his fair share of wound-stitching and bonesetting on the farm--sometimes on himself, no less--but there was only so much you could do about a snakebite without antivenom.

First Aid 50%: 1d100

[Philulhu]

Lawrence cleared the blood from the wound, then stopped. The twin puncture wounds he expected to see, weren’t there! Confused, he looked up into the face of Ezekiel who grinned wolfishly, his teeth red with blood.

As Lawrence was still trying to process this, he heard sudden movement behind him and he felt himself grabbed from behind. Hot breath on his neck and a deep voice behind him said, ”Don’ stroggle, mon! Don’ make me knock you out! De boss wont to see you…”

[Bullfrog]

"Oh, damn you. That's a good trick..." Lawrence mutters, cursing his own generosity. He should have known better, being in enemy territory... But he wasn't dead, not yet. He could find an opportunity, still, if he could keep from panicking. If he could get this one's guard down, then put an elbow through his teeth...
"Let's talk, then- no need to make things get any worse. What's your boss's name, what does he want from me?"

[Philulhu]

”You find out real soon,” came the reply. Lawrence could feel the man behind him, the sour smell of sweat filling his nostrils.

In the distance, the sound of an automobile could be heard approaching.

[Bullfrog]

Would it be a Grapple roll to break free and make a run for it?

[Philulhu]

Yes, it’ll be opposed but go for it.

[Bullfrog]

Grapple 33%: 1d100

[Philulhu]

1d100

Lawrence tried to twist out of the man’s grip but was rewarded with fists like two iron clamps, gripping his forearms tightly. ”Don’t be a fool, man,” came the voice from behind him, pushing him forwards, towards the fence. ”Climb over,” came the instruction, and Lawrence could feel the man’s grip every moment that he did so, like he was shackled and couldn’t escape.

On the other side of the fence was a motorcar, to the rear of which stood a young, dark-skinned man in an ill-fitting suit. The trunk was open, and Lawrence found himself pushed in that direction. A foot tangled with his own and he found himself falling forwards, the grip suddenly released so he collided with the mudguard and hit the floor. As he tried to recover, he found himself lifted up and thrown bodily into the trunk before the trunk lid was slammed shut, cutting out the daylight and leaving him in darkness.



The car doors opened and shut, then the engine started. The car was put into gear at the second attempt and it lurched off down the road, with the driver seemingly aiming for every rut and pothole he could see. Lawrence felt the car turn from time to time but he lacked the knowledge of the local geography to attempt to guess where he was being taken. The slow build-up of fumes in the trunk wasn’t helping his concentration either…

Sometime later, a groggy Lawrence heard the crunch of car tyres on gravel and felt the car come to an abrupt halt. The trunk was opened and he was himself lifted out bodily and dragged inside an imposing looking, colonial mansion. Two large doors were pushed open and he found himself deposited in a chair at the end of a long table, laid out for fine dining. At the far end, a neatly attired older man sat, smoking a cigar and sipping at a glass of red wine.

”Well, well, well. Now who do we have here?” he said in a distinct Southern accent. ”So who are you and what brings you here?”

[Bullfrog]

"The name's Neil, Neil Armstrong, and I'm here for work," Lawrence remarks. All the while, he keeps his eyes peeled, looking over anything and everything- most importantly, a quick way out.
"And who have I got the honor of dining with tonight?"

[Philulhu]

The room was tastefully decorated although minimally furnished, with just the table and chairs and a sideboard. The heavyset man who had dragged Lawrence into the room stood behind him. Off to one side, by one of two large windows overlooking a carefully manicured lawn, stood another man, tall and dressed in a suit that suggested he was a butler. Behind the man who had spoken to him was a second closed door.

”’Armstrong’, and here for work, eh?” The tone suggested that neither his alias nor his cover story was being believed.

”Strange that you should resemble one of the visitors staying at Mrs Hebert’s home. The ones posing as journalists and authors, going around and poking their noses in other people’s business.”