pendragon1980

Chance had also left town, just before the shootout occurs. But being dropped off at the saloon, she went straight to the stables, got Gambit and took off. Given her luck in Hazzard, she thought a new locale would be in order. Maybe New Orleans, or... A bit of red on the ground caught her eye, a red bandana lay in the dirt, surrounded by hoofprints and a spot of darker red. Chance felt a chill, there was no mistake what that stain was. If she had been smart, she would continue on her way. But something compeled her to follow the trail until the back of a familiar blaclclad form come into view. Coaxing the mustang into a trot, she came up beside Brian. "Bad day, huh?" Her eyes took in the glaze of pain on his face and the hunch in the shoulders. Although it will probably get her killed, she felt she needed to help. Reaching over, she grasped Damascus's reins. "I can help with that wound."

Chance could do nothing but monitor Riddick's reaction to the Hemogenesis drugs. His blood pressure, heartbeat , pulse, breathing...they are are spiking into the red and Chance couldn't do a thing to stop it. Another cocktail of drugs would only further Riddick's already straining system. But she held her hand over the red Code button near his bed. If he arrested, they would have only minutes to restart his heart. But for what? For him only to die hours later of his wounds? Minutes passsed. The EKG was going at a steady, rapid tempo, Riddick's heart was beating harder and faster than a marathon runner's would, the speed forcing with the generation of new blood. But would it hold out?

The nurse entered the room, carrying the drugs, as MaryAnne left. Chance also dismissed her, not wanting any else innvolved in what she was about to do. It was all or nothing, if this worked, Riddick would live and she would be in the clear. If the man died, a life would be lost and Chance guilty of murder, with a police woman standing right outside the door. Taking a deep breath, Chance pushed those thoughts aside, and injected the seemingly harmless looking liquid into Riddick's IV line. She watched the Hemogensis serum meet the IV fluid and then flow into his body. It was out of her hands now. Only time would tell. (cue Riddick)

It was the ulimate irony, here Chance was, one of the finer surgeons in Atlanta. But with the proper equipment or drugs, She could only perform basic CPR to keep Boss's heart going until the ambulance arrived. As long the heart was in Vfib, attempting a weak, albeit an erratic one, but if it went into asystole, stopped completely, it was be over. Handing over her stethoscope to Kristy so she could monitor the pulse, Chance placed her hands on Boss's chest and began compressions. It was now a race against time to keep his heart going until help could reach them.

Hey, MaryAnne, if you makes you feel any better. Me and my Sis got "Daisy Dukes It out" for the PS2 last week. We play the two player version and my patrol car trounces Sis's General Lee everytime we play. Pendragon

"The sooner the better." Chance called the nurse into the room and ordered the proper drugs. The nurse raised her eyebrows at the dosage but didn't question it. With the nurse gone, the young doctor turned to the deputy. "You may want to leave the room, MaryAnne. If this goes sour, I don't want anyone else held responsible but myself. That nurse..." Jerked her head towards the door"...will follow my orders to the letter. But if this man dies, there gonna be questions asked. Hemogenesis is not yet tested for trauma patients. And certainly not at the dosage I'm gonna inject Riddick with."

Well, congrats then, Sway. Mission accomplished. Cause with an atitude like that, you aint finding any. Doc

Well, I guess as Hazzard's foremost, and olnly physican, the medical exams fall to me. When was your last physical, Brian? Keep them pliers, MaryAnne, I may need them.

(coposted with Jax) Chance's musings were interruppted by the voice of her rescuer...only to be find herself looking at the woman whose earrings she has stolen. She sighed and closed her eyes. Her name may be chance, but her luck was running low in Hazzard. But a ride back to town couldn't be turned down. So she smiled, hoping the lady would'nt put two and two together and realized who had picked her pocket. "Yes, ma'am, we could use one. Kind of ya to ask." She also flicked a glance at Min, absently touching one of her own ears, hoping her partner got the sign of who they were dealing with. Min gave a nod in reply and put on her best charming smile. "We appreciate the ride ma'am." She then turned her gaze to Enos, who blushed hard and grew fidgety in his saddle. "Excuse me...we appreciate the BOTH of you helping us out like this." (Cue Val! Thanks for the lift!)

Meanwhile, Chance was absolutely fuming. She made a low growling sound of feminine rage. "Lookie there, Min. Something you don't see every day..." She raised her voice loud enough for the departing outlaws to hear her. "TWO horses with FOUR rear ends." Of course it didn't help their situation any, but the insults made Chance feel a whole lot better. She rolled her eyes at Min's dreamy sigh. Lord, the girl had it bad. "I swear...If I ever get my hands on that man..." Her lips curled with wicked smile as she imagined the kinds of torments she's impose on one blackclad Coltrane. "..Let's just say it would make what happened in your room look like a !@#$%ed tea party."

I happean to agree with MaryAnne. I have it on good authority that the Coltrane men have nice legs. Now excuse me while I go hide under my desk for saying that. LOL Doc

Chance sighed as she walked towards the unconscious man, kneeling next to him and uncapping the canteen. The young man was breathing and his pulse was strong, which was lucky for both of them but completely passed out from his ordeal. "You want to know our scheme. Fine! I'm a pickpocket and gambler" Chance nodded towards Min. "She's buys my lifts from me. That's all. Only reason this varmint got involved is he swiped me off the street and tried to convince me to gang up against you and your blonde buddy back at the saloon, or to help with those blasted racehorses he stole. And when I politly refused, I guess he'd figure he'd bait you with something a little closer to you." She wanted for that to sink it, hoping the outlaw saw she had nothing to lose by lying with his gun pointed at her. Although Chance did decided right then and there that in her next life she was going to be about as far away from being an outlaw as she could. Turning her back to Brian, she rather unceremoniously dumped the contents of the canteen on Chet's face, hoping the shock would awaken the horse thief.

Min saw the look in the darked haired man's face and she carefully climbed down from the horse. Standing on trembling knees she raised her hands in the air, swallowing hard. Chance looked at the barrel of the gun and then into the dark eyes and felt her stomach sink. Moving slow, she swung her legs off the mustang and lowered herself to the ground. Now was not the time to be cocky, or the game would really be over. Despite the fact she was weaponless, Chance stayed between herself and Min. She had no idea what the blackclad outlaw had in store for either of them, but she would be damned if she would go or let her friend and partner be hurt without a fight.

Chance was deceding whether to introduce Chet to a strand of cacti next to let him taste the nearest pile of horse dropping when she brushed by the blackclad man. But before she could consider slowing, the whip went slack, nearly startling her off the running horse. Using her good hand, she pulled Gambit to a stop and tossed her now useless weapon away. She turned in her saddle to see Brian PROTECTING the man who kidnapped her friend. Trotting Gambit to the outlaw, Chance spread her arms to show she was unarmed. She kept her body between the barrel of Brian's gun and Min seated behind her. For once, she also kept her temper in check. But there was a definite animosity in those blue eyes. "I wasn't going to kill him, just teach him how to behave himself."

Chance hissed in pain, clutching her injured hand, but the grip on the whip remained tight. Fury boiled over like hell fire, a gambler's hands were their lively hood, their tools "Alright, have it your way, I'm DONE being gentle." Chance only uttered a silent aplogy to the horse, the red bay had done nothing wrong, execept having an idiot for an rider. With a wild yell, Chance spurred her horse and cracked her whip, this time wrapping the leather around the animal's front legs. She turned the mustang quicky, yanking the whip hard to the side, among with the horse's long legs. The hard sudden pull sent the horse onto the ground and Chet with it. Shaken and frightened, it got up and bolted for parts unknown. Chance didn't even give Chet the time to stand up. Snapping leather again, this time the leather coiled around Chet's upper body, pining his arms at his sides while he was still on his knees from the fall. "I think its time for a you to eat your words, Chet Duke, and some dust!." No sooner did Chance spit those words then she gripped the whip hard and kicked the mustang's sides, commanding a run. And run the horse did, dragging the outlaw behind them, letting him sample some of the local dirt kicked up by Gambit's hooves.

The blonde gambler offered a hand down to her friend to help her on the mustang's back behind her. Min rubbed her wrists glaring at Chet as she took the outstretched hand and swung up behind the lady gambler. "Thanks Chance… Looks like I owe you one." "Put it on my tab." Now convinced the saloon girl was out of harm's way and unharmful herself, she turned back to the outlaw with blazing blue eyes. "What I want, is for you to stop godblasted snatching women off the street! Is this a hobby or something? Talk about getting carried away!" Chance wasn't stupid. Any outlaw worth two bits carried more than one weapon. She was watching Chet carefully, any unfavorable movements would leave him bleeding from other, more painful locations. The whip dangled low by the ground, ready to be used again at the second's notice.

Chance was quickly closing the gap. Chet's red had speed and a head start but he had stopped. The grey mustang had stamina and had started fully rested. She had uncoiled her whip, and let it hit the air, although at no point she let it strike the horse, the quicking snapping sound of leather urged it faster. She had lost her hat a while back, not noticing her loose blonde hair flying free behind her. The fresh hoofprints left an easy track to follow and soon Chance was coming up to the abandoned hideout. She entered it just as Chet was leaving, bringing up Gambit into a rearing halt. The near collision of the two horses startled two riders, but Chance was a hair faster, already having her whip out as Chet was drawing his pistol. A quick flash of leather deprived Chet of his gun, falling well out of reach into a rocky crevice, a second knocked the hat off his head. That was his warning. He would not get another. "Let her go or the next thing I crack off will be your head, or something equally imporant a couple feet lower."

Chance also decided to make an early night of it. Her encounter before had scared away most of her potential gambling victims, so she consoled herself with a drink. Before leaving, she decided to bid goodnight to Min, who had left the saloon floor a few minutes ago. Maybe just a few more details about her favorite customer... But entering the room, Chance grin turned sour. Min was gone, but there was no other way out of the bedroom, except the window and Min rarely used that method. She poked her head out the window just in time to see her friend being carried off by a very familiar outline. Chet Duke, the guy must have a habit of kidnapping. Now Chance's frown turned into a snarl. Kidnappin her was bad enough, but nobody messed with her friend. Alright, All bets were off. Chance whirled and ran out of the saloon and into the stables, where her own grey horse, Gambit, was waiting. But he wasn't the only one waiting in the stables. Chance also found the two men from the saloon standing here. Ignoring them, threw Gambit's reins on, forgoing the saddle in her haste and climbed on the grey's back. She was just about to give the prancing horse his rein when she turned him around. If Chet was half as dangerous, or stupid as Chance figured, she would need help, like it or not. She interuppted their conversation with the news. "Your buddy, Chet Duke, just kidnapped your sweetheart and my friend, handsome. " There was no time for an arguement so Chance didnt wait for one. She nudged Gambit's side hard, causing the horse to rear slightly before bolting out into the night.

"I say....I'm neither a horse thief or bounty hunter, so get yourself another girl." Chance glared up at Chet, hands on hips. If looks could kill he would be dead in the saddle. But there was also a code of honor among thieves and Chance stuck to that. "But you're secret is safe with me. Now git before those two see your face." When Chet offered a hand up to his horse, she shook her head and stepped back. "I'd rather walk." On a rattlesnake bed, she thought silently. Or rusty spurs. Besides, she had a meeting to get to and two better offers on a ride home coming up fast.

"Civilized?! You kidnap me and then threaten me with a gun!" Chance watched the man warily, but the whip never moved from where it rested on the ground. She knew the odds of this hand, lead beat leather any day. And as for his promise to return her to town, she trusted that about as far as she could throw a horse. Chance glanced at the two approaching riders in the distance. "Better talk fast, Yankee. We're about to have company."

Meanwhile, Chance was being no passive victim. "PUT ME THE HELL DOWN, YOU ! @#$@ing !$%@." As if her crude language wasn't foul enough, she squirmed and kicked, trying to get loose. The motions agaitied the horse, already excitable from the chase. When the horse slowed so Chet could looked at his pursuers, Chance took advantage of it. Bracing herself, she spun over so she was facing Chet and let her fist to his nose meet. The shout Chet made with suddenly having his nose broken accomplished one other thing, the horse spooked and dumped Chance to the ground. In a second, she was up standing and whip ready, blue eyes sparking with fury.

Chance headed down the street a bit before slipping into one of the alleyways. There she stopped and glanced behind her, she was half expecting a bullet in the back for how she acted. She had lost also all her gambling money when the table turned over... but...she grinned as she went into her vest pocket and pulled out the jade earrings, at least the encounter wasn't a total loss. She noted one of the silver clasps had broken off, probably from when she was showing off to blackclad backwater sonofa..gun, but the earrings would still fetch a good price, probably enough to make up for her loss at the table. Having a quick pair of hands aided in both gambling and pickpocketing. Sure, It wasn't the infamous way of life of a horse thief or gunslinger, but it wasn't half as dangerous either. Tossing the jewerly in the air lightly before, she pocketed them again and continued on down the street. She had a friend in town who would know where she could sell these.

...Brian figured wrong. Cause if the caviler attitude agitated Chance, the condescending one down right enraged her. The bartender had just set the whiskey glass on the counter when suddenly there was a crack of leather and the glass seemed to explode where it sat. And then the only movement was the whip settling back down by Chance's feet. To Brian, she only raised an eyebrow as she recoiled it then turned on her booted heel and stormed out of the saloon.

The man glanced from one gunslinger to the other. He may had been stupid enough to be fleeced by Chance's charm, but drew the line at trying to take down two dangerous men at once, esp with a gun barrel pointed directly between his eyes. So he muttered something ripely obscene, and jammed he hat back down on his head and stalked out of the saloon. Chacne, meanwhile, exhaled the breath she had been holding. Once she realized she was safe again, she found herself bristling at the fact that these two men took it upon themselves to protect her. She could have held her own..probably. She hoped anyway. Placing her hands on her hands, she frowned at the man dressed in black. "Who asked you to interfere? I had everything under control." There was alot of bravado behind those words, but Chance wasn't about to play the rescued maiden. In fact, her darkeyed rescurer looked as far from a white knight as possible. She crossed her arms in front of her. "But I'll suppose you'll want a reward for saving my hide. Well forget it, I can take care of myself." As if to prove this point, Chance reached for her own belt, but instead of bringing out the usual pistol, or even a rifle, she uncoiled a long leather whip. When she returned her gaze to Brian, there was a hint of a challedge in those blue eyes, as if daring him to prove her wrong. (Cue Brian! )

It seems now matter how good you are at cards, even if the cards are being stacked in your favor, very once in a while, you just pulled a deuce when you wanted an ace. Chance realized that had happened that suddenly the man whose wallet she was cleaning slammed a hand down over the money lying in the center of the table, so hard that dollar bills flew into the air, and he stood. Chance froze, getting a sinking feeling she had played one too many good hands and now the reason for her lucky streak was clear. To be caught cheating in cards often called for a deadly punishment, something Chance had always able to avoid. She hoped that record would continue past today. "Nobody's THAT lucky in poker, not even Lady Luck herself." She gave a one-sided grin, not giving any indication while the man was standing over her, scowling that he had hooked her feet around the table's legs. "I ain't Lady Luck, but damned close...." Suddenly she kicked out, overturning the table, which sent cards, money and their drinks flying, and also knocking her accuser backwards off his feet. The minute he hit the floor, Chance bolted like a mustang mare. She was a decent gunslinger and a fighter… but she relied on her intelligence, and here in a crowded saloon, where one misfire bullet could become a deadly gunfight, discretion was definitely the better part of valor here. However, when she glanced back to grin at her victim, she collided with a blackclad male chest, the force knocking the wind out of her.