Someday, I will write the story of the zombie overlords of Witchita.

I love it Victor But there are too many t's in "Wichita"

Someday, I will write the story of the zombie overlords of Witchita.

Oh yay!

Fixed, and this is the most discussion Wichita has had EVAH!

The date in this part is different than in Part I. Is she from 2023 or 2015?

It's awesome, btw. Just read all the parts.

Yikes! You're right! I'll go fix that.

Victor -- this is so much fun!

Victor -- this is so much fun!

Thanks. Hopefully, it will go interesting places...

BTW, I came across the Ferret Tarot online and immediately thought of you.

Sounds like just the thing the frustrated ferret owner (or companion) could use to try to understand what the ferrets might be planning.

Yesterday's Guitars

Part Six

It took every inch of willpower she had for Faith to not leap into the fight, but she needed to see what Justine could do. And she was doing OK.

One suit-wearing zombie was coming up behind her, but Justine disengaged from the one she was fighting, flipped over it, bringing her foot down into its head. Nice. The one she had been fighting was still shambling toward her, but it didn’t take much time for Justine to recover and knock it down.

“You could help here,” said Justine, annoyed.

“Nah,” said Faith. “You’re on it.”

Wesley needed to get back into the Wolfram & Hart offices to hijack some access codes and data from the old computers before the team left for Europe, so Connor was in with him, playing bodyguard, and Faith and Justine were supposed to be holding the fort. But Faith hadn’t had a lot of time to just watch Justine go, see what she was made of, and she figured she might as well do it now.

There was only one zombie left that she could see, and Justine was already eyeing it. Faith wasn’t watching the fight anymore. Mostly, she was watching Justine’s eyes, the way they fixed on her target, like a hawk targeting prey. It pretty much confirmed Faith’s suspicions: Buffy was a hero, and Faith was a warrior, but Justine? Justine was a hunter, and that bugged Faith just a little bit. It was an easy way to get disconnected from the world.

Faith folded her arms and leaned back against the wall, making herself more comfortable. The zombies were in slow motion compared to most people. Next to a slayer, they might as well be standing still. The only thing they had going for them was sheer numbers, and there just didn’t seem to be that many left here. Maybe they were whittled down the last time the team was here. Maybe they’d started wandering out into the city, and wouldn’t that be interesting.

“Or maybe someone’s come back to collect them,” she said out loud, although too quietly for Justine to hear.

The slayer jabbed right, and then right again, and then spun, her foot connecting with the monsters head. There was an implosion of rotted flesh, and the undead thing fell. Faith clapped. Justine just glared at her.

“So, teach,” she said, “how’d I do?”

“Passable,” said Faith, looking at the three dismantled corpses. “Very, very passable.”

Justine just glared at her as she wiped the dust and bits of skin off her hands. For the most part, she and Faith got along OK, but Faith knew Justine wasn’t terribly happy about her decision to stay in Los Angeles to help train her. Justine had turned down every previous offer from the Council, and really, Faith knew that Buffy and Giles hadn’t been terribly keen on bringing her on board in the first place.

“Yeah,” thought Faith, “as if it’s the first time they’d brought in someone who tried to kill one of their friends.”

Wesley, wearing his patented stone face, walked out of the computer room with Connor.

“Get what you need?” said Faith.

“Yes,” said Wesley. “Hard to believe all of this information was left sitting around with only zombies to guard it.”

Wesley’s eyes went straight to the piles of meat littering the ground.

“Speaking of which. Problems?”

“Not really,” said Faith. “Only the three. Justine took care of them, I watched. It’s a lot easier than you and Giles always made it out to be.”

That almost got to Wesley. Faith could tell. His face was still taciturn, but his eyes still flashed when he was pissed.

“You’re not a Watcher, Faith,” he said, his voice cool as metal in a snowbank. “I agreed with your decision to stay and train Justine, but you’ve not had the years of training Rupert Giles and I have had.

Faith smiled.

“I’m just ragging on you, Wes,” she said. “Lighten up.”

“Yeah,” said Connor. “And speaking of light, can we leave?” It’s 9 a.m. and this place is still pitch black. I want to see some sun before I pack.”

They began to walk toward the entrance.

“So, you tell the folks you’re taking off to Europe?” (continued...)