Zash the Stampede is taking a nap while Yvette Marlowe drives. Not all is right with the world but at least it's not terribly wrong, right now.
...okay, now he can hear someone else. Faintly. And also "hear" them, even more faintly. This is definitely one of the more opaque human minds he's ever met. He pushes open the door to the main store and steps inside.
Morgan does not have such psychic powers, and instead is frowning, and watching the entrance suspiciously for anyone coming to ambush them.
And Yvette will go investigate the bodies themselves, because no seriously what killed them??
But Zash is walking over to the closet, now, slowly, with a very severe expression on his face. And he's still holding the gun, but—backwards? He's holding it as if he's preparing to hit someone with it, not shoot them.
Slit throats??? Really??? That's so bizarre, that implies a stealth or execution style of killing. Did... this couple upset some people?? And then get killed for it???
"Uh, hey, make sure no one's out to steal our car," she says anyway, confused and bewildered. Then she looks up and sees Zash, and figures he probably has a handle on the probable killer.
—finds a child in there, huddled into a corner, making themself as small as they can. They look up at him, looking absolutely terrified, and try to shrink into themself even more.
Zash immediately softens. "Hey. It's fine, you're fine, whoever did this is gone." He puts his gun away and kneels down to be eye level with the kid.
"Oh," says Yvette, who also softens. "Oh no. Okay, um."
She's going to immediately get to finding a blanket or something to cover up the poor kid's probable parents, so he doesn't. Have to look at them.
Morgan stares with an unreadable expression, then says, "I'm going to check outside for tracks or whatever."
And then she turns and leaves to go do that.
It's the middle of the desert, there's probably not going to be any, but then again she did manage to find the slavers so.
Anyway, yeah, let's try to get this kid out of this place filled with the smell of their parents' blood.
There is in fact, absolutely no sign of any retreat after the murders, even to their resident apparent-tracker.
So for lack of any kind of better idea, they can in fact bury the poor souls who were apparently murdered in their own home, almost in front of their child.
Morgan stays out of it, instead lighting up a cigarette and smoking at a removed distance, looking vaguely irritated. She will not be paying any kind of respects or cooing over the kid or anything.
That's okay, Zash can do the worrying about the kid thing. He does have a way with kids, usually, and he's been around his fair share of kids who have lost their parents recently.
The kid looks like they don't particularly want to... talk. They don't give their name, and at best answer questions with nods or shakes of their head.
That's okay. They don't need to talk if they don't want to. No one's going to ask this of them.
"We're on our way to Terminal," he says, gently. "Would you like to come with us?"
Yvette is also hovering anxiously over the poor traumatized child.
"Is... there anything from here you'd like to take with you?" she asks, softly. "Before we go?"
Probably it's bad wasteland manners to not immediately loot the place, but. But. .... she doesn't particularly want to.
But Zash immediately looks up, his face blanching, and cries, "Run!"
He picks the kid up in a bridal carry and starts running.