Lana continued trying to hide herself with her hands, trying to drown out her thoughts.
There were always going to be other bodies, without a doubt. And she had the feeling Venice wouldn't be the last. So what do they do, give all the bodies burial? That seemed very overwhelming. And then what? People were just going to continue to make more. She only heard bits and pieces of the announcement, but she got an idea.
But what could they do for Venice at this point? Lana hurt her. She didn't mean to, but she did. And now she was gone. She and Dave. Gone. Nothing was going to bring them back. That was reality.
The poor luck that they all had. They were supposed to be at Disneyland right now, not killing and dying. Maybe in another world, she would be somewhere safe on a ride or somewhere. Something that was supposed to be thrilling, and perhaps only simulate danger. Not actual danger, or actual death.
Lana wanted to talk about what happened. Stephanie and Ilya probably saw her as no different than anyone else who killed. Deep down they were thinking of her as someone who was a killer, who deserved the blame, who needed to be locked up somewhere or worse. She was going to be seen as bloodthirsty, no matter who she talked to.
Her mouth almost opened, asking the questions that came. Am I one of them? Did I have to start too now? Do you blame me?
But as the questions almost came out, she stopped herself.
It was inevitable that they were going to instead comfort
her. Don't worry Lana, it was an accident. It's not your fault. You were just shaken up by Dave. Somehow that seemed worse. Instead of casting her out they were going to try to make her out to be a victim. Lana didn't want to be, especially now that Dave had committed suicide and Venice was no longer moving. People, feeling sorry for her
? It was going to be a terrible experience.
Lana was snapped out of her thoughts by Stephanie's hand, and she turned to look. She nodded in agreement. They should move on somewhere. Anywhere.
She slowly reached for her bag and her gun, only to stop once her hand was an inch away from the rifle.
"Someone else should hold it", she mumbled.
((Lana Torres continued in Midnight, The Stars, and You