One of the stories/legends that has haunted the backroads of the Fallcoast region is that of a biker gang that roam eternally on the little used highways and byways kidnapping lonely travellers and doing all kinds of horrible things to them. Of course it’s just a legend…the reality is much worse. The ‘Society for the Uplifting of Humanity’ has records dating back to the 1960s on this gang – The Psychomaniacs – and there have been encounters over the years. It seems that the members are dead…and still riding around on their motorbikes. Through ritual unknown they have returned to life as intelligent, communicating (though usually in grunts) zombies with a hunger for human blood and the criminal life. Pale, super strong, aggressive and stitching themselves back together after any injury, they also have an unusual allure for young college girls. The promise of eternal life is hard to resist for a pretty teenager woman.
The Psychomaniacs have been under regular surveillance but no concerted effort has been made to take them out. They are a criminal power out in the backwoods and have allies amongst the living that protects them from erasure. But they’re up to something big tonight and it’s been decided that they have to be stopped. From the various compacts and conspiracies have been recruited the best drivers, undead experts and gun fighters as decided by their bosses (though there are probably a few ringers with other priorities).
The word is that the Psychomaniacs will be making a run down an old highway using a large fuel tanker to transport…that is something the Hunters will need to discover. It is known that it is important to the gang as they intend protecting it with a full convoy of bikes. Stop them. And be careful out there.
It’s dark on the side of the road where Beatrix is parked with her crew. The night is silent. No animals disturb the bushes nearby. Then there is the faint sound of rumbling engines approaching. A farm house a mile away must have heard the noise too as the inhabitants react by turning off all their lights. A few minutes pass and two Harleys drive past. Riding each one is a huge, pale, bearded man…with no helmet! They drive past and onwards – the scouts. Then the rumble of a truck approaching, competing with the growl of more bikes.
Beatrix made sure to do the rounds and pick up those coming with her for the run. The girl's Dodge Charger, a beat up looking old beast with one hell of a roar under the hood with enough room to seat everyone and just enough to pile weapons and ammo between them. A set of earplugs put in in the expectation of very loud noises while she keeps her hair out of her eyes by pulling it into a pony tail. The girl otherwise dressed for work in some comfy if tight old jeans, a grey Dodge tee and work boots. The windows and sunroof open to let the cool air in and the hot lead out. When the first few scouts on their bikes roll past she looks at her passengers and grins. "You ladies ready?" she says softly in a whispery French accent.
Aurore has done her best to tool up for combat - in other words, she's dressed up in her well-worn biking leathers, and is clutching a shotgun borrowed from Beatrix. At least she's been shown how to chamber and empty rounds, and knows which end's the dangerous one... but it's clear that she's not at all comfortable with it even *before* the undead bikers show up. Still, as far as the local Loyalists are concerned, she quite possibly *is* the 'expert combatant' when compared with Hope. In response to Beatrix's question, she mutters something in what doesn't even sound like an Indo-European language, then cracks a shaky grin. "I doubt it, but as much as I'm likely to be."
Having taken off her cowgirl hat and stuffed it on the floor, Jolene appears to be going through her guns, making sure they look good and set. She glances over at Beatrix and grins a bit, "More than ready, 'hon.." Her accent is rather thickly Texan. She also has her long brown hair in a high ponytail, to keep it out of the way. Otherwise, she's in a normal pair of jeans with a simple button-up shirt tucked in it. She looks over at Aurore and smiles at her, "Don' worry, this'll be int'restin' at least... yeh?"
Carla drums her painted nails on the dashboard. She went with a French manicure. Not a hair out of place like usual. Dark red lipstick. She wears a frilly black tank top and shorts about the length of hot pants. On her lap she has a scoped rifle that she's casually inspecting. It was clean, new, large, and with a black finish. "I'm ready as I'll ever be I guess." the woman says with a nervous laugh.
"Okay, so aim for the bikes, not the bikers. We only need to knock them off their wheels to take them out of the game. I will do my best to keep things steady enough for you to aim." Beat says as she pulls the car onto the road and starts towards the bikers. "We can worry about the truck once the convoy protecting it is out of the way." she states and leans forwards to kiss the steering wheel. "I'll fix you up really nice when we're done!" she adds... to the car itself.
With a squeal of tyres on dirt - which takes a really good driver or a really bad sound effects person - the Dodge Charger lurches onto the road. Behind it are the two bikers disappearing into the distance. In front is a rapidly approaching tanker with two more bikes in front and another to either side. They can't have helped but see the new arrival, one of the riders even pointing it out to the others. The Harleys in front roar and accelerate as the riders reach into their open jackets to draw their pistols.
"Good plan, not like they can chase us, but I would like to take them out as well eventually. They should not exist." Jolene says slowly as she watches out the window, staring and waiting for the tanker. As the tanker comes into view, Jolene makes sure the window is down as far as possible and she holds on as the dodge charger lurches forward. As soon as she sees the Harley's in front reach for their pistols, she begins to take aim.
Aurore shoots Beatrix a somewhat worried glance in response to her wheel-kissing routine... before finding herself pressed back into her seat as the Charger accelerates out onto the road. She gulps quite audibly, then makes absolutely certain that her borrowed shotgun is angled towards the open window, and firmly away from the people inside the vehicle with her.
Carla chuckles lightly and glances at Beatrix. "Alright. Looks like we have company." She said getting a little more serious. She pops out her laser sight and sticks that rifle barrel out the window as the zoom through that road into the craziness. Her expression was calm but her hands seemed a little shaky as she aims her oddly large and flashy weapon.
Beatrix starts to concentrate, "We worry about killing zombies later. We make ourselves some room first!" she says and starts positioning the car so others can line up their shots. Thank goodness for ear plugs. Another whisper coming from her lips to the car as she sees the bikers drawing pistols. "Please be okay!" the charger is going to need a lot of work when she's done and home. Assuming she gets everyone home.
The Psychomaniacs (aka The Death Wheelers) prepare for battle. A hatch on top of the truck cabin opens up and a biker clambers out to sit there, reaching down into the cabin and pulling an AK47 out. He flicks the safety off.
The bikes on either side of the truck keep pace with it. Not breaking formation yet.
The passenger in the truck leans out as far as his waist, a huge grin on his undead face as he aims his pistol at the Charger.
The two bikes in front accelerate even more, heading straight for the Hunter vehicle, pistols in their hands as they guide their bikes with only one hand. When you're dead there is no fear of death.
At Beat's words, Jolene nods and says, "Yeh... alright, let's gett'm!!" Her Texan accent gets even more thick the more excited she gets. Leaning out the window, the wind whips her hair and she aims at the biker she has the best chance at, Biker #1. Aiming a brief moment, she lets out a quick burst of three bullets and as the tire is hit and pops, she holds her breath a moment to watch as the biker begins to squeal and then crashes. "Yeeehaw!!", she says cheerfully.
As one of his escort bikes crashes off to the side of the road the driver of the truck puts his foot down and the huge tanker looms towards the Dodge. There seem to be spikes arrayed down each side to prevent anyone clumsy leaping aboard.
Anya comes up behind the convoy. It's a smooth ride in her air-conditioned cocoon. She has a hand on the steering wheel, a hand on the console to fiddle with the volume while Aretha Franklin spells out the word respect. She focuses, pushes her foot down, and the engine smoothly feeds power to the wheels, in no hurry, slow but steady. She puts both hands on the wheel, sings along, "All I'm askin' is for a little respect when you come home...", worries about insurance for a moment, then swerves, driving the family car into the Harley. At these speeds, that's a lot of family car, and the outside finally makes some noise as the motorcycle clunks and screeches across her side, then spins off, leaving a big dent. And her rear view mirror is gone, too. "Just a little bit, just a little bit..." she grunts and steers back the other way, sluggishly, so she doesn't go off road after the undead thing.
Wondering what on Earth she has done to merit winding up in this situation, Aurore leans over to poke enough of the shotgun out of the window that it's possible to take aim at the nearest pistol-wielding zombie biker - or his steed, to be more specific. Having precious little idea of how accurate she might be or of how much damage her weapon might do, she doesn't try anything fancy. Instead, she simply hopes that it'll either wreck his bike or unbalance him enough that he falls off.
The result is much better than she'd feared - she not only avoids disaster but even scores a hit of sorts! - but vastly less than she'd hoped. Putting a few extra holes and pock-marks in his jacket and messing up his paint-work was not quite what she had in mind, but (unsurprisingly) the novice firing from a fast-moving platform at a mobile target sent most of the pellets disappearing off into the night.
Carla takes that rifle, closes her eye and in one careful motion tries to pick off one of the tires with her rifle. "I hit it!" Carla says in surprise and elation once that ringing in her ears wears off, but before she realizes something. "OH this may make it hard to study them." She frowns and keeps herself in shooting position. "And the creature's still moving."
Beatrix grins as two of the bikes are taken out. One by car, one by gunfire. "Someone call the Mazda if we know the driver and thank them!" she says brightly as the first stage of the convoy joust is done and the blonde French girl is locking up the steering wheel to turn the Charger around to start moving up from behind and once more begins baring down on the convoy, from behind. "There's shooters on the truck so start being careful aiming for the bikes." she calls to the others. Raising her voice while her ear plugs do their job.
As one of the bikes is thrown into the air by the impact of a...Mazda 6?...all Hell breaks loose. The truck guard unleashes at the Charger with his AK47, the bullets clinking on the metal skin. The truck passenger and the bikers also unleash on the Charger - maybe a Mazda can't be taken seriously? More bullets hit the shell, one of them piercing the engine bay.
As the AK47 and bullets come towards them in the Charger, Jolene ducks slightly, as if that'd help. She whoooo's loudly as things plink off and Beat does her elaborate driving donuts, "Awwlllllright!!", she cries out, clearly in delight. She's having a blast. Crazy maybe? Probably. She leans out of the window again with her 45 and takes aim at another biker that Beat set them up for and fires a short burst, hitting the tire square on and causing it to explode. "Yeeehaw!", she cries out again, clearly the Texan in her enjoys this fast-paced shooting.
As another of his escort explodes in a ball of petroleum flame, the smell permeating everything, the trucker guns it to try and run down the Charger. But an 18 wheeler driven by a zombie is not the most agile thing and Beatrix manages to turn out of the way...just.
Anya steadies the Mazda and eases off the accelerator, humming and ducking slightly behind her wheel to look up as she hears the sound of gunfire from the truck. "I don't think Ais has insurance for that." she murmurs, hands tighter on the wheel. The car falls behind the truck, then shifts as she puts her weight on the pedal again, this time aiming her bumper at the back of the remaining motorcycle. There's no singing now, just humming or grunting along with Aretha, depending on how tense things get. The Mazda rolls up, with a quick jerk on the wheel at the last minute to try to clip the bike with the already damaged corner of the family car. She might as well preserve the paint elsewhere. But the zombie steers out of the way and she overshoots, knuckles turning white, pumping the brake lightly. The car swerves, but she maintains control, glancing over just in time to see the shot blasting off the last biker.
With just the one biker left on his mount, and no desire to draw the personal attention of the operator of the assault rifle, Aurore focuses all of her attention upon the remaining rider. Though she's still acutely aware of her complete lack of combat experience she *does* have her previous attempt to draw upon... and is aided by the highly effective distraction provided by the Mazda. Just as the zombie biker completes his evasion of Anya's efforts, Aurore lines him up just right - and lets out a whoop that is at least as much astonished as it is delighted, when she hits him solidly on the shoulder with a rising mass of pellets. Both lifted and turned, the zombie parts company with his bike.
Carla carefully aims a shot at the window but for whatever reason it just doesn't punch through, ricocheting off the side. She sighs exasperatedly. "I can't believe I spend so much money on this thing!" She says as she keeps her sights trained on the windshield. "But it can't hold up forever!"
Beatrix keeps on driving steadily, or as steadily as you can when you're being shot at. The burst from the assault rifle getting a nibble of her lips while the one shot that does penetrate the hood of the car gets a mean looking snarl out of the Blonde French girl. The truck itself even trying to put her off the road gets a growl before she feels some relief from watching the two remaining bikes get taken out along with their riders.
With a little more room now to move the driver of the Charger puts the foot down and with a really wicked grin she says to the girls riding beside her. "Hold on tight, I'm going to give you a really good shot! And no throwing up!" she says with a giggle. With some fancy work with the wheel, pedals and a shift of gears the car gets ahead of the truck and spins. The car turning one hundred and eighty degrees so everyone and the car is facing the truck while the Charger itself is now driving backwards. Which should give everyone a better line of sight of the zombies in and on the truck. And vice versa.
As the truck roars forward it runs over the biker blown from his bike. The heavy tyres popping his head like a pimple, brains spraying out over the asphalt. The truck shooters fire. The AK taking a nick out of the Charger windscreen but the shots at Anya merely plink against the metal.
The driver laughs as one of his tyres is taken out and he puts the pedal to the metal to try and catch the annoying Charger. That Mazda is half a wreck already. But he still can't catch Beatrix, yelling angrily as she flips him off.
As Beatrix does her fancy manoeuvring, Jolene smiles from ear to ear, having a blast. She leans out of the window and aims for a tire, blowing it. "Woo, now only a billion more ah reckon!", she says cheerfully.
Anya steers her car over to the passenger side of the truck and accelerates. She can accelerate to truck speeds, at least, and the dents and missing paint aren't impeding her driving yet. When the bullet rams into her door, she flinches away from the impact with a "Damn it!" and the car swerves left and right before she gets it steady. Maybe it's the music. She draws her .45 and waits patiently for the window to roll down. Then, one hand on the wheel, just to keep the car steady on a stretch of straight road, she points the gun out the door, across her body, and squeezes off a shot. There's recoil, there's the wheel jerking slightly in her grasp, but she holds on as the Mazda threatens to swing offroad, while Aretha advises her: "You better think." Indeed, Aretha. Indeed.
Carla takes a deep breath and squeezes the trigger, sending a rifle bullet right through the windshield of that truck, shattering it. She whoops and calls back to the others. "I got it!" The sound of gunfire ringing through her ears while she sees that windshield go down. "You're now free to get at that damned driver." Carla says just a little bit giddy and proud of herself for once during this rather difficult stint of 'field work'.
Beatrix watches the truck speed up and try to run her down. Staying in reverse she just keeps the pedal down and keeps on reversing. The girl even taunting the driver by extending both hands and giving middle fingers. "I bet they make him ride bitch normally!" she adds to the girls since the truck zombikers won't hear it.
With the others taking their shots, including Aurore taking aim at the biker on the roof with the assault rifle and doing little as the pellets spread a bit more than is needed to harm and get through the zombie's leathers.
With both hands back on the wheel she gets right back to concentrating, the car stays in its current position, reversing and staying lined up so that her passengers can shoot out the driver once the truck's windshield shatters and leaves him and his passenger riding shotgun open for business.
The AK guy opens up on the Charger, ignoring Aurore's shot, bullets weakening the windscreen that it will only take a light breeze to crack it open now. The zombie poking out of the passenger window has been having a hard time but he still ignores Anya even after she shoots him. Though with his wild shooting it is unclear what he was /trying/ to hit...other than the sky.
Unable to stop herself from laughing at Beatrix' antics towards the driver, Jolene takes careful aim with a shouted out, "Thanks!", to Carla. "Lesse if we can't take care o' this lil' problem 'ere.." Aiming as best she can, she focusses and then a loud round is shot from her .45. Blasting into the zombies head, and clearly taking out a chunk of gibbage, Jolene curses, "Fuckin' zombies! Hope he can't drive with NO head!"
The truck driver is not a big fan of immortality at the moment. With half his face converted into a jelly/jam that decorates the cabin he knows there won't be any sewing that back on. As his brain continues to drip down the shredded remnants of half a skull he tries to roar his challenge...but no sound escapes half a mouth with his tongue now resting on the bobbing-head dog on the dashboard. He guns the truck.
That was very stupid. Anya's acutely aware of the statistically likely effects of a crash at this speed, given the security features of the car she's in and the scenery zooming by. She regularly sticks her gloved and prepped hands inside the victims to patch them back up, after all. That was very, very stupid. But car crashes are things that happen to other people, little people, small and frail and stretched out on the operating table. She's not one of those, she's a surgeon! That, and the music's hitting a crescendo, with Aretha bellowing out: "Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! Yeah, freedom!"
Thus, Anya steadies the Mazda again, foot careful on the pedal to match the truck's speed. The gun points out the now-open window, every little bump throwing her aim off. She bites her lip, narrows her eyes, looks away from the road for far too long and depresses the trigger again. As the bullet from the .45 slams into the zombie's head she hoots to herself, then squeals as the tires squeal too, the family's car thrown off-course to skim the side of the road, shedding some paint along a railing as she loses speed and twists the wheel violently to get back on track.
Aurore reaches forwards and with a nod from beat pushes the shattered windshield out so it drops down and onto the road under the truck. With a much better chance to shoot the shot gun is aimed as upward as possible at the driver and the shot taken. The shotgun empty and needing reloading while that last bit of buckshot heads at mostly headless behind the truck's wheel.
What remains of the driver's head liquefies under the onslaught of Aurore's shotgun. There is no keeping the truck on the road now. As the driver slumps off the wheel it swerves, out of control, towards the embankment - thankfully in the opposite direction of Anya. It slams into the earth by the side of the road, its impetus allowing it to bump over the first contact and send the semi-trailer into the air. Semi-trailers, however, are not very aerodynamic and it soon comes crashing down again. Metal screeches and crunches as the cabin buries itself in the dirt, the biker atop being hurled through the air and finding himself impaled on the sharp, bare branches of an autumn tree.
Metal groans as the trailer rises higher and higher as the cabin buries itself into the ground. The trailer is vertical now, still for a moment until the sound of metal snapping betrays the destruction of the hook-up with the cabin. The trailer falls forward now, slamming down to the ground and crushing the cabin underneath. The smell of petrol fills the air as fuel lines are ruptured and the explosive liquid spills over the shattered truck and the earth beneath.
Carla pulls her weapon out. "We did it!" She says ecstatically, looking around at the others. "Everyone did great. I'm super proud to be a part of the team!" She says with a smile. "Now if I can just get at the remains. Or I could make some phone calls? Where are we again? Which road? Eh I'm sure I can get the GPS coordinates. It doesn't really matter." She smiles brightly again. "Sure looks like a mess...."
Beatrix pulls the Charger off the road away from the truck when it goes out of control. Just once it would be nice for a dead body at the wheel to not plant a foot down. Turning the car forwards to pull up once the truck is rolled and the tank leaking she keeps just enough distance, keeping the back of the car to said wreck in case of explosions and shrapnel. "Don't get out just yet. It will not be safe." she says and turns to look out the driver’s side window. To Carla she grins. "We'll need clean up. The wrecks can be brought to Crash and Burn once we have a truck or two to haul all this."
Jolene cheers as the tanker driver's head is shot off. "Yeehaw! Guess those fuckers' can't drive headless!" She grins and pulls back in the vehicle, sitting down with her gun still ready as she looks around. "Did we get them all, or there more out there?" Searching, seems she's hunting for another target.
The back door of the trailer slowly creaks open. The impact of the crash smashing open the locks. From inside spills out some green eggs, about nine inches high and covered with some kind of fungus. Beatrix has seen one before. The fuel spilling everywhere does not come from the trailer contents.
Up the road the two scout bikes have stopped, the riders staring back at the crash site. They are probably out of range and are making no attempt to come closer.
Carla takes out her phone. "Hey James. Darling. I just need to get the cleaners here pronto! We have a wreck alongside the highway with some subjects for slabbing. The vehicle parts can be taken to this...Crash and Burn place if you have the time. There's a couple motorcycles and a truck. Come quick and come prepared. Oh I'm sure you'll be fine. You always do such great work! You're an artist. No. No stop. You are. You. Are. Okay. Your supervisor doesn't know it. But I know it." Carla chuckles. "I'm sure my good friend here will appreciate it. You can drop the subjects at the regular place and I'll take care of the rest. Say hi to the wife and kids for me. Hugs and kisses!" Carla hangs up after her little jovial conversation. "I think it'll be taken care of. This went well I think. I was skeptical about the subjects at first, but they are in decent condition..."
Anya manages to retain control of her car, already losing speed, and actively hits the brakes as the semi runs off the road. She comes to a halt on the opposite side of the road, some distance back, and takes a few seconds to get her breathing and heart rate down to normal. The gun is set aside on the passenger seat, and she hits a button to make the window slowly glide up again, enveloping her in the calm, cooling, and controlled environment of the Mazda. When she sees eggs spilling out of the trailer, she stares, raises an eyebrow. Then she sets the car into reverse and begins to back away, humming along.
"Just keep your ears peeled for motorcycles. Of the chopper type." Once it's clear the fuel is not in the tank. She winces as she sees more of those eggs she recognizes. The sound of the scouts stopping and getting a frown. "Treat those egg things as extremely dangerous. They can sprout and turn a person into a shambling big plant monster." she warns. "Bad stuff!" the shot gun is taken from Aurore once it's reloaded and finally she gets out of the car, keeping it between her and the crashed truck just in case.
Jolene glances at Carla and her conversation and chuckles a bit but then her attention is on Beatrix and then the eggs. "What th' hell are they?", she asks as she also gets out of the vehicle, her .45 still ready and always loaded. "Can we set fire to it? Ah got some flares we can jus' throw towards the fuel and set th' entire thing sky high....", she offers, reaching into her jacket to pull out a road flare.
"Oh really. That can't be good." Carla says as she texts rapidly. "Oh...I suppose you can torch one of them if it'd make you feel better. But James will take care of it. Plus we need them for research. Who knows, we might find a better way of killing them. Lord knows I did that after my last dissection." Carla laughs. "Just exploded everywhere. If you're good I might show you the video. Anyway...I'm sure the team has it covered. I just need to send the information to the team. They're good at what they do. I vouch for them. For all that's worth. You've already done so much. And so well too."
With a rumble the scout bikes start up and turn away from the site. They have soon roared off into the night; to relay news and plot revenge no doubt.
Anya puts a little more distance between herself and the eggs, scowling dubiously at them, but eventually decides to the car. She cracks the window open again, leans out to inspect the bullet hole on the side of the door, then yells down the road and over the din of the fire, "Is everyone OK? Does anyone need medical assistance?"
The tiny blonde with the shot gun nods her head in agreement. A quick look given to the scouts riding off out of range of even that sniper rifle by now. "Think I will be keeping my girl off the road a while." she says to herself and pats the still warm hood of her muscle car. "Lighting the truck on fire will just set the rest of the place on fire and I think we should avoid having the fire department coming out this way." she says. To Anya she smiles and waves a free hand. "I think we're fine. Maybe just need some body work on my car. New windshield, I think I might have to check the engine too." she says and keeps on petting the Charger like a hurt puppy.
Jolene looks over at Carla and purses her lips in thought. "Ya' sure these things are safe t'research?" She sounds a bit worried and the looks over at Beatrix and nods a bit, "Yeh, yer prolly right." The flare is put away and she looks over at the eggs again, staring and burning the image into her brain. Anya's question causes her to look up and over and she smiles, "Ah'm right as rain... that's some fancy drivin' there.. was a good run, though ah reckon we're gonna have some clean up later." That is said as she watches the bikers ride away.
"Don't worry. I try to take precautions. Strap them down. We keep them nice and secure, get backup if necessary and as soon as it becomes impossible to contain, destroy them. I've been doing this a while. I think the more interesting question is could we afford NOT to research things like this? Think where we would be if we didn't." Carla finishes up texting. "I promise you I will be very, very careful. Not take any unnecessary risks." Carla turns to Beatrix with a smile. "Let me know if you need any help with getting this fixed."
Beatrix beams a proud little smile at the compliments for her driving. "Just glad I was able to keep the car intact for you girls to get your shots. Next time I might have to go for something a bit heftier. And with extra doors." she says brightly. "I'll stick around to give directions and play bandit for the clean-up crew if they need it. And get anyone home that needs to get home after." she offers to the group. "And I am so not kidding about handling those seed egg things with care. They sprout kinda vine tentacle things. So tongs and steel boxes." she adds.
"Alright! Stay safe, then! Catch you at the usual place, maybe!" Anya yells back out in response to the news everyone is alright, a hand over her eyes to see who's there past the flames. Then she slams back into her seat and looks around, contemplating the scenery. One hand hangs out the window, a finger carefully tracing the edge of the bullet hole and the chipped paint all around it, face set into a small scowl. That won't be easy to explain away. For a little while longer she stays there, keeping a lookout, but eventually sets the car to drive, and does a slow, careful U-Turn as the window glides back up. Now to drive very, very safely and unassumingly back to Midgard. She lowers the volume on the music, and skips ahead to slower, more saccharine ballads. Nothing that'll encourage her speeding.
"Uh huh.....they have tentacles....so tongs and steal boxes for the 'egg' things. Wow I'm glad I know that. I'm truly curious about what we'll learn. These awful things make my skin crawl." She shudders. "I definitely want them as secure as possible. Alright. I want to get them in the secure place. Not the temporary holding place." Carla sends out a couple more texts and puts her phone away. "Thank you for the input."