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Post by Winters on Jul 19, 2012 22:53:15 GMT -5
Griffin had just listened to the entire radio conversation. Seemed that Tricell were even more dangerous than before, and this new group, Ascension, had been tracking down Waltz to kill him. At this, he wasnt really sure which side was better to take, but making his target stayed alive made more sense. "Good information, lets get out of here before we have to kill more... No matter how much you love it, Hunter..." It wasnt just a liking, or a lust, it was a passion for his brother. Because with every kill meant more food, and more food meant more energy to kill. It was a vicious cycle, one that he would never be able to get out of if it werent for Griffin.
The trio obviously werent really quite sure where safe was. If these soldiers could track down Waltz all the way out here, then there was no telling where they should be going next. Griffin almost wanted to say somewhere public, behind BSAA walls, but if a firefight broke out, there would be innocent bloodshed, and that would be worse for everybody in the end. Using a city as a meat shield wasnt on the top of his list of survival techniques, nor was he really up for taking Hunter back into public until he can get in control of himself. "Brother, if you can contain yourself for the next 48 hours, ill give you another one of my pills." It was the only way, treating him like a dog. No, not like a dog, like a drug addict. Only Griffin knew that Hunter wasnt strong enough to take them by force, nor would he even think of it, so unless he wanted to skip his weeks rationing of medication, he would have to play nice.
This time, Griffin aimed his attention toward Waltz, and got into escape mode. Whatever that was, getting away from here was the best idea, but it wasnt like they could just drag him along through the snow. "When you came out here, Waltz, did you get airlifted? Or snowmobile? Cant see somebody like you wearing snowshoes..." It was an honest question. He had all the backup he needed, now just a solid escape route. On foot, they might get out of the area in time, but the cold would most definitely work against a human after an hour. Bringing in his own contact would take too much time, and they would risk tracking the aircraft.
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Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on Jul 20, 2012 21:21:48 GMT -5
Harold Waltz didn’t really want to spill the beans completely on the total goings on, but nevertheless he managed to spill the truth without fail. Hell, what did he really have to lose?
“ We used some hopped up jeep-like snow-tread vehicles in a attempt to secure a location just south-east of here,” Waltz looked into the eyes of Adrian while discontinuing the emotional show of discomfort for the two. A comfortable tone was apparent, “ The problem was that when my squad made a move on the supposed target- they took rounds from behind. I dipped off behind some cover to notice that our own damn squad-mates were casually opening fire on the others. I don’t mean like accidental friendly fire- these guys actually seemed to enjoy every shot fired. When the smoke cleared, I heard some big husky voice calling out orders for securing Waltz. Namely me.”
Waltz continued after taking a heaving breath and coughing mildly- the apparent droplets of blood coating his lower gums and lightly expelling from his mouth in a brisk wave, “ I’ve been killing those traitor bastards only to realize that it was the faction I was avenging that wanted me dead. Practically, Ascension wants to capture me on behalf of their Glorious Cesar and Tricell Elite wants me dead on behalf of some protocol.”
The man took in the chaos of the moment only to realize that the worst was yet to come.
Heavily labored rotary blades chopped and diced through the brisk cooled air in a wa-wa-wa metronome before the air itself was disturbed by a violent rumble. The sound was coming from above and marked the entrance of the next wave of terror to plague the three inhabitants. The continuous rumble was met by the howl of a propulsion engine. The sound was that which matched the propulsion unit that Umbrella Corp used to navigate BOW Containment Pods to the ground in Codenamed: Operation Raccoon City. This sound was something that Harold had heard before when Marlboro intentionally sabotaged the Pantheon off the coast of Florida. These sounds were quick and clear, the propulsion agents bellowing the thick smoke of burning chemical fuel.
Pods smashed through the roof and to the ground like the dropping of a payload- thus splintering large gaping holes and bringing upon the addition of new skylights for the aged cabin. Pods laid dormant in freshly made craters through the wooden floors of the cabin. There were three separate PODS. Countdown timers labeled the number 15:00 in increments of minutes. What resided behind the glass was layered in large amounts of leather but resembled that of a distorted mutated creature construct more than anything. These things could easily be said to come straight from the nightmares of Old Umbrella or the sketches of a delirious artist fixated on Lewis Carol Novels. Those that paid attention to the foggy container would notice blinking goggles with vision shutters that masked a ghoulish face. The face itself covered by a varient of a combat helmet suited purely for itself with a opening at the mouth that allowed the massive jaws of the beast to hang low. Red fluttered from behind grayed out goggles and saliva dripped from extremely long, razor sharp yet highly deformed teeth. Out of the three POD inhabitants, one was more than eager to escape from the prison that was doomed to torment it for another fifteen minutes.
Harold was almost certain that Hammond Marlboro was sitting in a nice cozy desk somewhere while his weapons of war played Toy Soldiers on the battlefield. If these things were sent by either faction of Ascension or Tricell- chances were that escape would be the preferred option at this point and time.
“ Armored Jabberwock S3 Mach 2- engaged. Estimated air-pressure release function T-Minus Fourteen Minutes,” The Tricell radio blared in a computer generated voice.
Another little fact that blasted from the mouth of someone else on the secure line resembled a husky voice, a aged male, possibly someone of power- oddly unmasked, “ What the hell! I did not authorize that drop! Tricell Three Zero Seven Abort that release!”
“ Access denied S-S-Sir, system file on override via Tricell Command is filled with c-c-c-c-corruptive data- data loss imminent. Three Zero Seven no longer recognizes Tri-T-T-Tricell eyayayaya Tricell as Central Commanding File Log. Aborting all communications- Goodbye!” The computer generated voice that was remembered to serve ’The Speaker’ gave a general ’Screw Yourself’ to the Tricell Command before a large amount of static signaled the end of the voice transmission.
Harold did not know what to think as he edged for his weapon and sought refuge next to the crazed cannibal and his steadfast survivalist brother. The three of them stood at the ready while the pods displayed the timers above the reinforced materials. Harold spoke in a cliché western manner, “ We high tailin’ or skinning some smoke wagons?”
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Post by Winters on Jul 21, 2012 3:18:31 GMT -5
So Waltz was wanted by two of the largest groups still around, that was going to make things interesting. Tricell had been after everybody, or so it seemed. They had enough test subjects to do them another twelve years, so if they were tracking down a human, it was to kill it. The supers, however, they needed alive. Griffin avoided them for years now, they never got a close chance. As for Damian, however, he was most likely a Tricell reject. There was no good samples to be taken from him, his genes were already corrupt.
If Griffin went with Tricell, he wouldnt get the chance to ask the questions he needed answers to, and would end up either escaping with even more blood on his hands, or taking down an entire lab with him. If we went with Ascension, they might treat him with a little more respect, and he could get the answers, especially if he was in their debt, say for collecting Waltz. But that wasnt going to happen, it just wasnt how he operated. Griffin was a man of honesty and morality, putting his old life behind him.
The pods crashed through the building, breaking his concentration on a plan, and trying to figure out which direction the vehicles had been my sniffing out the motor oil. A thread in the containers caught his attention, it was something he hadnt smelled in a long, long time. Definitely was a strong BOW, much stronger than a good number of them in the past. But that was expect, they only got bigger and badder over time and research. These were no exception, sticking around to "collect combat data" would be pointless, and risky, no matter how much a good fight Damion wouldve wanted. "Lets rip them open and-"
Yup, just as he thought. Griffin quickly snapped back at his brother, pushing him away from one of the pods. "No, lets just get as far away from here as possible, I dont like the smell of these. Those vehicles you mentioned, Waltz, I can pick out the trail, but do you think they would be parked close?" Griffin could sense anything, usually up to a good mile or two away. But with the cold temperature, it was impairing his biological radar. None the less, the three of them left the cabin, or what was left of it. Out in the snow, a red tinge covered most of the banks, but had been darkening every minute due to the sun falling over the treeline. If they had to treck the Tundra, it would be next to impossible to move at night, so finding the vehicles soon was the first priority.
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Post by Dark Nomad on Jul 22, 2012 17:02:42 GMT -5
Connor had gotten calls from multiple contacts. A war had erupted ion Canada between locals wishing not to die, Ascension, a terrorist organization, and Tricell, basically Umbrella's replacement. Tricell and Ascension wanted control of the area for one reason or another and the locals just wanted peace. To achieve peace, one must be prepared for war. One name popped up with contacts in both Tricell and Ascension. Harold Waltz. One side wanted him dead, the other wanted him bound and gagged. Obviously this guy knew more than anyone else so hue was a good guy to start talking to. It was pretty easy to track someone who was already being tracked and getting a Gurkha modified for the tundra was a great deal. Word spread quickly on all lines of communication that he was not alone and everyone was fighting. He knew he would have to quickly earn his trust or be killed even quicker. The sun set was a nice pink tinge which made everything pink. He knew he would have to pick these three guys up before the sun passed the horizon or all three would be dead by the morning.
Connor had found what he presumed to be their vehicles before heading to where the coordinates of where the "Pods" were delivered. Code words were kept up while speaking over the radio frequencies but Connor knew that the Pods wouldn't hold anything nice fore anyone opposite them. He was sure he would find the trio along the path he was taking otherwise they were already killed by the contents of the Pods.
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Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on Jul 22, 2012 21:36:34 GMT -5
Ascension fired the first and last shot in Yellowknife.
Distance was something that Ascension had become comfortable with keeping when it came to tracking a wanted fugitive. Terrorism was a understatement in the calling of what these merciless bastards were. Nothing mattered in the sense of worry, especially in this day and age when it came down to controlling the masses fluidly and waving the best weaponry mankind had to offer. Ascension had the know how to openly use anything at it’s disposal as well as anything at it’s oppositions. In fact, due to the over-bearing confidence of Tricell, it was evident that Ascension was using Tricell controlled BOWs against Tricell itself through hacking devices. No one knew how or why Ascension was releasing BOWs through the guise of Tricell Operations- but one thing was definitely for certain- Tricell was scattered like a pebble falling into a ant line.
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The sky is on fire.
The skies had become a bigger war zone than the ground itself, Ascension Loyalists were using Tricell Elite Aircraft to engage un-verified Tricell Aircraft and continuously make gunning passes on Evacuation Vehicles that were attempting to leave the area. Metal and plastic were common debris found littered across the landscape and smoke was the most common element to labor the sky. Sounds of explosions and rapid machinegun fire sang out in a symphony of destruction while the screaming of jet engines and hum rotary blades created a steady base line. Bombing runs could easily be mistaken as cracks of thunder but the tremors to follow ruined the façade. The sky itself was to be set on fire and Ascension was steadily pouring on the gasoline.
The same aircraft that had dropped the Preservation Containers was the same aircraft that was about to take mysterious dive into the tundra below. As if to pull out of the scene quickly, the Helicopter made a pass over the tree-line and directly over a clearing in the wood within seconds. The slashing of rotary blades poured on thick as the helicopter almost mysteriously began to catch a downward tail spin along. Warning sirens blared a all too familiar tune. The metal bird whirled about into a full seven hundred and twenty degree twist before ultimately smashing into the tree-line with authority. Flames and smoke erupted onto the scene as the helicopter soon became nothing more than twisted metal. The event lasted little more than sixteen seconds and no distress signal was ever to be sent. No survivors were thought to have made it. The helicopter had been a grave to those onboard.
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Roads and large clearings are dangerous.
Ascension had expelled Tricell from Yellowknife and had begun to move armored vehicles to secure the surrounding area. When Armored vehicles had begun to arrive on the scene just Northeast of Yellowknife, people were certain that Yellowknife was now under the strict control of Ascension. The additional armor that did not reside in Yellowknife was simply put into place to create checkpoints between Yellowknife and the surrounding areas. The armored vehicles varied between lightly armored personnel transports with a decent amount of anti-infantry firepower to full-scale tanks with enough stopping power in the main cannon to level a sturdy building. The checkpoints as well as the armored vehicles were chosen strictly to match the situation of the terrain. Snow tread and chains used for all vehicles that were present and all personnel currently operating were fully trained to navigate and perform defensive and offensive tactics in icy terrain. Crossing the path of these vehicles without proper clearance or anything with enough ordinance to level them all is suicide. These vehicles tend to block large clearings and roads at Ascension checkpoints.
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Harold Waltz simply stood there for a second in complete awe of what had just dropped into the area around him. The thunderous crash of the helicopter in the distance added a certain sense of dismal curiosity to the mix. His face showed that of confusion as the eldest of the two brothers spoke to him in a semi-demanding tone. All of it seemed like something out of one of the films that he managed to get his hands on at the Facility, all of it seemed like something that took years to set into motion and only moments to execute. The question that constantly passed through his head was How much worse could it get before it got better?
Waltz half-heartedly answered the man as his eyes never left the pods that blinked countdown numbers. All of it seemed familiar, like déjà vu or a passing dream state. Something clicked in Waltz head and the expression showed on his face, “ Vehicles? The Loyalists have most likely already taken control of roads in a attempt to keep Tricell from retaliating or moving troops. Marlboro doesn’t cut corners in his takeovers and this has his signature written all over it. We’ll have to do something that he won’t expect. He knows I’ll stand and fight, he most likely calculated that I’d shoot anyone that came across me. But- That only means that his boys have this area under control cause he wouldn‘t risk lil‘ ol me getting a bullet put in my head intentionally.”
Harold pointed at the PODS, “ Those bastards right there- they’re incentive for us to haul ass. Either that, or someone else is playing God right along with that snake. Either way, I‘ve fought those damn things before- they aren‘t worth wasting the ammo or strength. We got us a trip ahead of us.”
Harold fished in his pocket to pull out a map and hand it to the eldest brother, “ There is a depot a few miles across the snow that will most likely have the vehicles we need to continue. The territory is in the middle of nowhere and it has no resource value to it whatsoever, Tricell will most likely have evacuated it and Ascension will be busy keeping the roads blocked. Stealing a supply truck or two from there should be cake.”
Harold’s newfound sense of preserving his own mortality kicked into full gear as the mental image of the depot appeared in his head. Even if there were a few scattered troops, he was sure that it would be nothing that a couple of Superhumans couldn’t take care of.
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Post by Winters on Jul 26, 2012 0:04:56 GMT -5
The crash was something that either of them had seen in a long time, but both had a very different take of then. Jesus, probably just evacuated out of infected territory and thought there were on the home stretch, Griffin thought to himself. Fireworks this late in July? Must be some hell of a party. I like it. Hunter thought out loud, wanted to get a rise out of his brother, but it didnt happen.
"So you saying the vehicles are a few miles in this direction, then? Well lets move, then we wont have to wait too long at night. If we have to do any sort of fighting though, id appreciate if I handled it personally, though..." Griffin spoke out to the both of them, not just his sadistic brother. Surely they could more than likely kill everybody in sight once the arrived, but bloodshed wasnt needed, they only needed a vehicle. "Right then, ill scout the area!" Hunter took off ahead of the other two, running faster than Griffin could catch him, even given his edge as far as stamina and speed went. "Hes not crazy, just likes to have a little fun. We'll see him soon, in and out with the truck right quick."
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Post by Dark Nomad on Jul 26, 2012 7:20:00 GMT -5
War had erupted since he arrived and nothing looked like it was getting better. Everything was spiraling into chaos and everything Connor had been told about the situation seemed like only a fraction of what was going on. He could tell by his own reactions that he had been in plenty of combat situations like this or maybe worse but he couldn't figure out when or where. Thee problem with his memory was that he had all the experience and know how but none of the memories.
The helicopter crashing just to his right was expected after hearing all of the noise on the radio. With it's explosion and flaming frame, he knew no one survived and kept moving. He would find them soon enough, get some answers, and shut down what was going on here since he was lied into becoming part of the situation. In the distance he saw a man running his way but the man was quickly identifiable as not normal. The distance between them closed within seconds. Connor didn't bother with his jacket staying in just his Kevlar vest over his black tank top. Many thought he was crazy for wearing so little but he felt too hot with too much clothes on. Either way he wasn't leaving his truck unless he had to.
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Medic
Alive
One way or another, I'll cure you!
Posts: 9
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Post by Medic on May 31, 2017 12:56:22 GMT -5
Gemma carefully maneuvered through Canada's Open Tundra. The chill of the wind bit at her face, even though it wasn't considered "winter" at this point. The convoy that she was riding with had stopped at the edge of the forest that they were driving through. One of the vans had a flat tire and the drivers were trying to fix it. As with any stop, a group of guards needed to be deployed to scout the area so that they would not be overrun.
Also, with this convoy, there was a small group of trappers, so any animals they came across that they could kill, would be skinned and the meat would be prepared and packed away with salt to preserve it for future use. Gemma looked back at the convoy for a second. It was a rag tag group of people - some mounted police, a family from Florida, how they made it up here, she could never figure out, a couple more families from Northern US, the trappers, some military, and a helicopter pilot as well as Gemma herself. The convoy was just as rag tag, a few vans, 3 school buses, a church bus, Gemma's Ambulance and two humvees rounded out their collection.
Gemma heard something move in the snow, its feet crunching on the snow and ice. Her attention back to where it should be, she pulled back her arrow and readied her shot. A flash of grey and white circled around her and she heard its snarl. As it came at her, she let her breath and fired the arrow. True to form, she nailed it gruesomely in the mouth and stepped aside as it fell to the ground, dying. Gemma approached the wolf and pulled out one of her axes. "Thank you for your sacrifice", she said as she slammed the blade into its skull, delivering an immediate kill shot.
She gave a whistle and two more guards joined her. They went to pick up the wolf, but Gemma stopped them for a second. Grabbing her arrow, she wiped it off and put it back in her quiver. Then they went back to the convoy.
By the time the trappers had the wolf skinned and meat packed away, the drivers had fixed the van tire. As was the custom with this group, the skin, once prepared, would be given to Gemma, to either keep or share. That was the way of things in the convoy.
(oc-just getting started. please join if you wish)
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Post by Rhinn on May 31, 2017 14:30:04 GMT -5
Jack's van was at the back end of the convoy. Being new to the convoy, he was alone while most of the other vehicles were full. In time, some of the people would move to his van, but right now, he enjoyed the relative quietness of being alone... well, almost alone. Jack had picked up a companion per say. In his passenger seat sat Granger, a mutt by most accounts, but Jack saw alot of Labrador and some German Shepard in him. As the convoy pulled up to a stop, Jack fell in line and got out of the vehicle. Grabbing his rifle and sidearm, he exited his van and locked the doors. At this weather, one didn't shut down the engine... it was too common for cars to just not start again. As he approached the group, he saw that one of the buses had a flat tire. They were complaining about not having an air compressor. The tire itself wasn't ripped, just a hole that allowed the air to get out. They had taken the tire off the car to fix it, but had no way of blowing it up. "If you have a can of compressed gas, hair spray or bug spray, you can spray it in the tire and light it on fire. The combustion should blow the tire up again." He had seen it on MacGuyver one time and thought it might work... Sounded legit anyway. The other drivers nodded and set about finding a can. Jack took his position at the tail in of the convoy, looking for predators or undead, waiting for the the all clear signal. No one really approached him and he was okay with that. Jack was a private man as such, and honestly, he didn't want anyone to be in the van with... especially with the cargo he was carrying from his time in Oak Harbor. He would share, of course... eventualy, but for now, it was best that they didn't know.
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Medic
Alive
One way or another, I'll cure you!
Posts: 9
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Post by Medic on Jun 2, 2017 8:02:50 GMT -5
Gemma continued to survey the area around the convoy. So far, there was no contact being reported and except for the tire being fixed, it was seemingly quiet. This might be a good place to build a travel lodge, a way station of sorts for travelers along this major highway. As she continued her patrol, she came across one of the newer arrivals to the convoy. She couldn't remember his name, but he had curly hair, which stuck out to Gemma. She approached him and started talking to him in her cute Irish accent. "Aye, there, I'm Gemma. What be your name?"
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Post by Rhinn on Jun 2, 2017 9:56:39 GMT -5
Jack turned around when he her someone approaching. Out of everyone, she was probably the most memorable in the group, with her flow, fire red hair and her accent. He hadn't really talked to her before, but figured it was happen at some point in a group this small. Newcomers, as he had seen were usually accepted, though with a bit of reservation, until they proved themselves to be an asset to the group and not a liability. He didn't know her name, just usually referred to her mentally as Red. When she addressed him, there was no denying the Irish Accent. He turned around and smiled, noticing the bow that she carried in her hand. Automatically, he thought of the Disney movie "Brave", with Merida. "Hello there, Gemma. My name is Jack", he said in his decidedly southern accent. "It is very nice to meet you. How long have you been with the convoy?"
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Medic
Alive
One way or another, I'll cure you!
Posts: 9
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Post by Medic on Jun 2, 2017 11:27:27 GMT -5
Gemma smiled. "Only a week before you joined. Don't worry about the isolation, they'll come around soon and before you know it, you'll be riding around with a whole family with you in your, uh van." Gemma had just now noticed that the van wasn't really a normal van. It sported off road tires and 4 wheel drive by the looks of it. It said more of a moving apartment, than a van, but Gemma fought the urge to look inside. "I drive the ambulance in the middle and I am a nurse." She strummed on her bow absent-mindedly as she looked him over. Her nursing took over as she looked at him, but he seemed to be in fairly healthy condition. Eyes were clear, so no drugs (at this time) and no jaundice. Color was good and he didn't seem to be starving.
Then she caught that she was staring at him and laughed, her face turning a shade of red. "Sorry, I have a habit if guessing how healthy a person is by looking at them. You don't seem to be suffering starvation, disease, so I would have to say you are in good health."
And that sounded a bit awkward as well. Luckily for her, the whistle blew, indicating the convoy was ready to roll out again. "Well, Jack it was good to meet you. I guess I will see you in a bit when we stop for the night."
Gemma walked back to her ambulance. The trappers were there, waiting for her. "It will be a bit before the skin is adequately cured, but we should have it to you in a few days."
"No problem", said Gemma. "I'm still thinking about what to do with it."
Then she got into her ambulance and waited for the vehicle in front of her to head out.
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Post by Rhinn on Jun 5, 2017 10:45:15 GMT -5
Jack watched Gemma and her red hair walk away, making a striking contrast with her hair against the snowy backdrop. Maybe there was something there, he thought. But then, maybe he was looking for things that just weren't there. Either way, someone had actually spoken to him and she was very pretty, so it was a win win in Jack's book and it was good to have someone with medical training and supplies along.
Others were beginning to get back into their vehicles. Judging by the position of the sun in the sky, they would travel another 4 hours and try to find a decent place to stay. Jack climbed back in his van and locked the doors. Nowadays, that was overkill for the undead, they couldn't open doors, but Jack had always been a cautious person. He put his van in gear and waited for the convoy to get started again. While he waited, he pulled out his map of the area and looked at it. If they could make good time and not have any issues, they should hit the small hamlet of Peace Point, Canada.
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Medic
Alive
One way or another, I'll cure you!
Posts: 9
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Post by Medic on Jun 5, 2017 15:29:14 GMT -5
As the convoy fired up, Gemma turned to the appropriately radio frequency. Typically, after each stop, they switch to the next channel down the list. As she turned to channel 4, she heard the convoy's leader, Carlos Garcia.
CARLOS: Okay everyone, we are going to try to make it to a small village named Peace Point and set up there for a few days. There is a lake nearby and some wildlife, so we are looking to build our food supply a bit and just settle down if we can. Also, a shout out to new guy, Jack, for his idea for fixing the tire. It is why there we are able to move out so soon.
Across the radio, whoops and hollers were heard for Jack. Gemma smiled. It was great to see them try to bring Jack into the fold.
The lead truck moved out and then one of the vans, then Gemma in her ambulance. She looked in the rear view and saw that everyone other vehicle was in motion.
Turning on the radio, she began to blast her favorite CD that she had managed to keep - Queen. Bohemian Rhapsody began to play and she sang at the top of her Irish voice.
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Post by Rhinn on Jun 6, 2017 11:20:49 GMT -5
Jack smiled at the congrats he was getting from the convoy and shook his head. A few more of those tricks, Jack and you might be honored with cooking supper tonight, he thought. "Just a trick I picked up from McGuyver", he said as a response. The leader, Carlos had told them where they were going, so if anyone got lost, which was highly doubtful, they could just meet back up with the rest of the convoy. Being the last vehicle in line, Jack waited for the rest of the cars to move out. The van right in front of him seemed to be stuck, but after a few wobbles, it was on the road.
Putting his van in gear, he started off slow and fell back in line, spaced out from the car in front. As he drove, he kept looking in his rear view mirror, feeling very exposed from behind. Silence fell over the comm system, like usual, so Jack put in a CD. It wasn't of music, no, it was a series of books, sci-fi in nature, named the Call. It was about civilization going insane after a weird signal was transmitted to every cell phone.
"A lot like here and now", said Jack, to no one. He reached over and grabbed some of his remaining beef jerky and opened it up. Ripping off a hunk, he put it in his mouth and savored the flavor of his snack. He didn't have many left, but if he came across some meat, he would be able to make some more.
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