Re: Ora Noc Terrol: The Road to Paradise

[Guilty Carrion]

She turned around, her eyes locking onto the man who addressed her. Her eyes quietly sized him up for a moment, before she flashed a grin and took his hand. “Doctor Evelyn Goins. Pleasure to met ya.” She gave his hand a firm shake, before the shopkeeper ordered them to get out so he could go for his lunch. Eve snickered to herself as she left, smiling wide as she followed behind the small bot. Second you’re done paying, customer service just goes out the window. Never changes, no matter where you go.

The heat was bad, but several ruins she had studied had been on similar worlds, so it wasn’t that much of a bother. The light, however, was almost too much for her sunglasses to filter, causing her over-sensitive eyes to squint in discomfort for a few minutes, before finally adjusting, at least somewhat, to the glaring sun. Dust was in ample supply, she noted, judging from the layer that had already settled onto her clothing. Ugh. This is going to be a pain in the ass to wash out. Provided I can actually find something to wash my clothes with…

The group slowly began to space itself, some separating themselves with those they knew, others simply falling behind because of an injury. She paused, letting the group pass by as she studied the injured man for a moment, a look of confusion settling across her features. Last time I checked, this planet is a supposed death trap…who the fuck decides to go for a stroll with a bum leg? Someone has some serious balls…or a few missing brain cells. Maybe both?

She broke into a slow jog, catching up with the group and slowing her pace to match that of the wounded man’s. “Well, I gotta ask. What the fuck happened to your leg,? Do you think it’s a very good idea to be hobbling around on that thing?” Her voice was sharp, and the amused tone didn’t try to hide how little she truly cared for the man‘s wellbeing. At the moment, he was just the thing that held her interest. Her gaze flicked down to the wound, and Eve suppressed the urge to poke it with the tip of her new machete. His face would almost be worth it, but with such a high-strung group…the risks were a little high for a simple dose of fun.

“If anything, it just makes you the easiest target of us all. Aren’t ya worried about the bandits? I hear they’re some vicious fuckers.” She chuckled, smiling wide at the stranger.

[The Melancholy Spirit]

Osiris blinked as the feminine voice broke his concentration. What, precisely, he had been concentrating on prior to her questions escaped him the very moment the interruption occurred. “A scrap with the gun merchants door…” he replied casually, as if nothing had happened at all. “Needless to say the door won. And no, I don’t find it very intelligent to be hobbling around as I am. But to be honest I find it slightly more intelligent than sticking around this place.”

He looked over at her, noticing the tint of her eyes behind the glasses. He blinked, then furrowed his brow and started at them for a moment. A curiosity… he thought to himself as she continued to talk. Surgical, perhaps? Mutation? Genetic engineering? He brought a hand up to idly scratch behind his right ear. Wonder just how useful they are. What spectrums they see, if they can bring up vital signs… perhaps a computing system for geological purposes…

“Uh, yeah I assume I am the easiest target. Though on the flip side it might mean they go after all of you first, seeing me as the least threatening. Not too worried about them either. Bandits are bandits. You get in on the bad side of the worst bandits on any world and you get slightly more prepared. What I’m worried about is the lack of obstacles to take advantage of in the case of a hasty flight…”

[World Traveler]

The gel was colder than Alex expected and he shivered involuntarily. As he got used to the chill, he held still as Dae applied the gel and for the first time since leaving the gun store, Alex took a discerning look at his surroundings. His well-trained eyes never focused on a single person, but rather the snapshot aspect of the whole scene. It had already become clear to him that he was not just being asked to leave this town. This seemed more like a forced recommendation to him.

Alex watched as the group milled together and started to head towards the open land that spread out in front of him. He was somewhat intrigued by the group. They were mismatched and illogical and Alex really didn't know what to make of them, beyond that they had supposedly joined forces; or at least, they were making progress towards joining forces, what with the slow mingling, meaningless small talk and awkward frowns. As he watched them attempting to interact, he was reminded of the Hollu Conflict, in which a small army of mercenaries were hired by a wealthy resource company to clean up a colony that had the unfortunate luck of setting up their new home right on top of a very promising resource mine.

"Ok, I'm done." Dae's voice startled Alex out of his musings. He smiled and started to turn around. He hadn't expected her to be so caring and it made him a bit suspicious, but he pushed those thoughts away when she inquired about his weapon selection. Her curiosity and delight surrounding the topic of guns made Alex think of a kid showing off his favorite toys. Bending over and picking up the PA-PA, he checked the ammo converter, grabbed a pre-made salt clip and pushed into the rifle. Then, he grabbed his light shirt and put it on, followed by his backpack. He almost smiled as he watched the gel tube make its way into Dae's bag and silently wished for a different excuse to let his hands wander around Dae.

With his rifle in hand and his backpack filled with all the tools and resources necessary for a week-long trip, Alex turned back to the beautiful and deadly woman. Having sat silent for what felt like an unnatural amount of time, he felt the need to converse with a friendly face. "You should know better than to ask a journalist for his sources. Besides, it's not like your organization is the only one." He paused, grinned and added, "But don't be jealous; you are easily the cutest gun-runner I've met." Alex knew that "cute" wasn't the look that Dae aimed for, so it was the perfect word to use to both compliment her and push her buttons. She started to head to the rest of the group and he followed. It was easy enough to see where they were headed, with the towering female in the front of the group. Once he was walking again, Alex could almost hear his brain click as he started to transform.

It wasn't a physical transformation, but a mental one and one of astonishing skill. When he was on vacation and not working, Alex was usually casual and carefree. He'd smile at silly things, frown at unpleasant ones and just be a normal guy. However, once he was on the job and in the field, everything changed. Because things could go south in a second, he didn't want to get caught looking at something silly. His contact lens camera was already starting to film. Oddly enough, he started to focus on the people around him. Moving from face to face, he tried to imagine why each person was there. Most had prison tattoos or former military markings, which made their reasons more obvious than others.

[SpaceWheeler2.0]

After the brief introduction he had received from “Doctor Evelyn Goins,” Nydin was slightly disgruntled at the quite sudden command to leave from the shop-keep. He didn’t have time to fill his last magazine, and he wasn’t going to do it out in the dust if he could help it. The helical mechanisms were sensitive and easily jammed if dust got inside. It’d be best to wait at least until the gusts died down and he could keep the springs clean. Nydin removed his pack quickly and scooped the remaining two boxes of ammo into the little room he had left to fill. He tucked the second magazine he had filled, along with the empty third, into round pouches on his vest where they fit snug. Hefting his pack over his shoulders, the young man made his way out the door in about the middle of the group.

As he stepped outside, he pulled his floppy hat down a bit farther to cover his forehead and eyes. The heat didn’t particularly bug him as much as the dust did, but they both made him think of home. Luckily, his long sleeves kept the dust and direct sun off of his arms, and the light pants did the same for his legs. Despite the light materials, covering himself completely might eventually bring his body temperature too high, but he was fine for now.

“Where in the blazing sun did that little bot say we are headed?” Ny mumbled to himself. He looked around, taking in the positions of the group and noticing that most of everyone else was doing the same in some degree. He could see the tall woman leading, still followed by the man as short as Nydin was. Behind him was Evelyn, talking to the limping man. And then the feuding pair took up the rear, although they seemed to be getting along fine now. Out of both discomfort and slight distrust, Nydin was hesitant to approach any of the others near him. For now, he’d just keep to himself and follow along.

[Shadow Moonseye]

“Well, I once knew a very tall girl by the name of Ashley. She wasn’t as tall as you, but then again, a lot of people are tall compared to me. She was a nice enough girl, beautiful too. Refused to talk to me though, seeing as I wasn’t exactly part of the ‘in’ group; so how about I simply call you Ashley?”

“Ashley?” 708 frowned. The name felt foreign on her tongue, alien and utterly wrong. But she couldn’t turn down his suggestion without raising more suspicion. “Yes, you can call me that.”

She raked her hair back with a hand, feeling beads of sweat forming on her scalp and brow. The back of her shirt starting to stick to her skin underneath her jacket, but she was torn on whether to take it off or not. To do so would bare scars and could cause questions to be raised. Which could lead to her being found out. Then again, inside the leather she was boiling under Sheol’s sun. She cast a quick glance behind her, teal eyes sliding over the group, silently weighing the risk.

None were military, of that she was sure. There was the pair that brought up the rear--they had a history--both seemed capable in their own right. Next her eyes landed on a shorter man with a large hat and a SMG in hand. He looked like he was at least familiar with the weapon. Her eyes continued to roam, taking a moment to flick over the local with the improvised cannon, before landing on a positively tiny woman. It wasn’t her stature that caught 708’s attention, rather it was the bright purple hue that her hair had. In the year she had been free she’d seen many people with strange colored hair, but had never figured out what caused it. Could it be a random mutation? A purposeful manipulation of the genome?

After another moments scrutiny she tore her gaze away, looking to the man that the purple-haired woman was speaking with. She noticed immediately he was favoring one leg; it was bleeding. He must have injured himself. Not even out of the town and he was already bleeding. It didn’t bode well for his survival. Her eyes jumped to his hair next, which appeared to be twisted into ropes. She couldn’t fathom why someone would style their hair in such a way. Her eyes moved on to a woman dressed almost entirely in brown. She walked alone, and carried with her a rifle, though from the way it was carried she couldn’t be very accustomed to it. Like Luke.

Her eyes flicked down to her companion and she tipped her head slightly to the side, noticing for the first time that he was jogging in order to keep up with her long strides. It hadn’t occurred to her that the short man wouldn’t be able to keep up with her normal pace; she was so used to traveling alone or being around others that could keep up with her that the thought hadn’t entered her mind. She made a small noise and slowed her pace. If they were to travel together to help defend one another they both needed to be in good shape, he wouldn’t be capable of much if he was exhausted from jogging all the time.

Examination of the group complete, she turned her eyes to the sky once more, squinting at the bright light. A frown etched itself into her features. I would rather chance it than continue to bake in this heat. In a place like this scars shouldn’t raise too many questions. Not from this group. She pulled her pack off, holding its strap in one hand, before worming her free arm out of the sleeve of her jacket. The back shifted hands and she repeated the process; catching the jacket before it could fall. She her walk slowed further and she quickly unzipped the pack and stuffed the jacket inside. A few swift movements later and the pack was over a shoulder once more, zipped up and puffed out from the bulk of the jacket.

Ahead of the group, the gates of the town appeared. They were tall, covered in dust, littered with dents and several suspicious stains. They looked to have seen the end of the world and stood all the stronger for it. It was obvious to see why the populous of the small town trusted in them to keep unwanted visitors out. Nothing short of a tank would be able to knock them down, and from the dents it appeared that many had tried over the gates’ lifetime.

Jack the bot zipped forward, skidding to a halt at a small keypad mounted next to the gate. He quickly punched in a code, before turning and beaming at the people he had escorted. "Here you are, good people!" Behind him, the gate gave a mechanical groan before it slid open. "I escorted you safely, yes!" He bounced up and down as the group drew closer. "Remember, keep following the road," an arm extended and pointed in the proper direction. "And you'll hit Kel's Garage and Outpost. Please enjoy your stay on Sheol!"

708 picked up her pace, eager to leave the town behind and start on her journey. Passing through the open gate, she cast a quick look around, though the only things that stood out in the bleak landscape were a few rock formations down the road and a few spiny desert plants. Her face relaxed ever so slightly. An enemy would have a difficult time hiding out there in the wastes.

Finally. No fences, no buildings, no ship walls. Just open skies. 709, 715, 707, 710... I'm on my way. I'll find Paradise for us. I promise.

As the rest of the group filtered out onto the road behind her, Jack shouted his cheery farewells and inviting them to come back for a visit in the future; blissfully oblivious to the fact that chances were he would never see them again and that they might very well die within the week. Once he waved the last person through the gates he punched in another code, and gate slammed shut behind the group with an echoing finality.

A heavy silence settled over the group, making the heat seem all the more oppressive. The hard-packed earth below them radiated heat and there wasn’t a cloud in sight to offer relief from the harsh temperature of the sun. Sweat could been seen breaking out on foreheads and trickling down backs, staining shirts dark. The heat haze on the horizon only grew worse the farther along the road that they traveled.

The rock face reached up towards the sky, dominating the horizon and surrounding desert. The shadow stretched out across the land, long and promising a place to rest for travelers along with relief from the bitter sun. 708, a yard or so ahead of everyone else, raked her hair back with a grunt of annoyance. She frowned. I wasn’t expecting it to get this hot here, and my hair is only making it worse. She looked to the rock face, before glancing back at the group, half tempted to ask one of them if they had anything she could tie it back with, but dismissed the thought soon as it formed. She didn’t want to engage in conversation with any of them.

Once we reach the rock face we could stop for a time. Enough to cool down. Maybe I could rig up a hair tie from something.

It had been a good hour since the last words had been spoken amongst the group. It might have had something to do with the heat and that talking only served to waste energy, or perhaps it had to do with the fact that no one quite knew if they could trust one another. Not that it mattered much in the end, for the time being the motley band was forced to travel together along the dusty road.

Time continued to pass and the sun dropped lower in the sky, though it did little to ease the heat. The distance between them and the only landmark in sight being rapidly eaten up by their pace. They all moved rapidly, the allure of the shade urging them on. At the rate they were currently traveling they’d reach it in a few moments.

708’s walk slowed until she came to a halt, one foot half raised to take the next step. A frown etched itself across her features as she examined the stretch of road just ahead. A few more steps would bring her into the cooling embrace of the rock face’s shadow. Running parallel to the road it beckoned her with a seductive siren call.

Something was wrong.

Scattered across the road were pieces of wreckage, and on the opposite side of the road directly across from the rock face were two burned out skeletons of trucks. The metal was twisted and scorched; making it obvious that something explosive had to do with the vehicles’ destruction. The road itself was stained dark in irregular patches, looking suspiciously like long-dried blood.

708 took in all this in an instant, her teal eyes narrowing in suspicion. So focused on examining the road and its surroundings was she that she failed to notice that the rest of the group had caught up with her. With the frown carving itself deeper into her face she took another step forward, then another.

Her head suddenly snapped to the side, and her eyes locked on a spot high up on the rock formation.

Shit.

Seconds after, a loud crack sounded, a cloud of dust rose from the place where she had been standing not a second before. A second crack sounded and there was a gurgle from the front of the group; Festus falling, a hand jerking up to grasp at his throat. Crimson gushed between his fingers, bright and hot. The man fell to his knees, trying in vain to stem the tide, but even as he took a ragged breath he could feel his lifeblood cascading from the wound.

She caught this from the corner of her eye, but another crack pulled her attention away from the dying man. She jerked slightly and let out a soft grunt; her pack sliding from her shoulder as she leapt into movement-- far faster than any normal human possibly could.

“Sniper!” A warning, torn from her lips by force of habit, all she had time for before she was on top of a man leveling his gun on Luke. Everything seemed to slow for a moment; crawling by at a snail’s pace. The look of shock twisting into fear on the man’s face, his swinging the gun to her, the sounds of the group’s reaction to the three shots.

In the next instant one hand shoved the gun down while the other crashed into the man’s face and time returned to its normal speed. The air erupted in a rain of fire, bandits made themselves known and turned their shots on the rest of the group.

[The Melancholy Spirit]

Osiris ran a hand over his hair, tied back in a large twist and held into place with what appeared to piece of pointed, sanded wood. He glanced up, looking at the wall of earth in front of them again. He looked along its length and tried for an accurate estimate of its girth. Eventually shrugging and going back to the map he was sketching on a piece of graph paper. He took note of the trucks before they reached them, having a sense of nostalgia from another planet several years before come flashing against his eyelids as he blinked. Shaking the thoughts away he added them unto the mostly barren piece of paper with a guess of their distance from the road and ridge jotted down beside them.

When the first shot rang out, breaking the nearly overbearing silence, Osiris acted quite opposite of what one would assume from looking at him. His head shot up from the roughly sketched map even as his hands set about tucking it and the pencil into his bag. He was already moving for the trucks when he caught one of the members of the group flopping on the ground, grasping his throat and gurgling blood. The movement was sending up a moderate torrent of dust into the air. Not even a slight distraction.

Pain shot through his leg as he half-ran, half-hoppled toward the closest truck. Thankfully these bandits weren’t much different from your casual thug; big guns, lots of ammo, but without a sense of how to properly fire a gun between them. Of course that didn’t mean a hail of bullets flying every which direction wasn’t deadly. Had his mind not been concentrated on survival Osiris would have recalled a few times where it was probably much more deadly.

Osiris reached the truck and made his way towards the front, coming face-to-face with a rather sickly looking bandit that was rounding the hood. Attempting to back step he felt his leg give out from under him and collapsed onto his back. In mid-grunt he rolled to his left, under the truck, just in time to avoid the slow reaction burst of fire let off by the bandit. Without thinking he attempted to push himself to his feet, slamming his head into what was left of the drive shaft. “Shit…” he cursed loudly. A string of swears followed as the drive shaft creaked and crashed from whatever had been managing to hold it up, landing firmly on Osiris’ back.

Fighting back the pain he glanced to his side, seeing a pair of legs and the barrel of a gun pointed toward him. In a panicked rush of thought he shifted his weight to roll the drive shaft toward the bandit where he could grab it and swing the heavy object in an arc. It caught the bandit just below the ankles and sent the man falling. A burst of rounds from his sub-machinegun sprayed into the truck above Osiris, sending flakes of sharp metal raining down on him.

Covered in several small cuts he crawled out from the truck, hefting the drive shaft and slamming it down on the bandit. Satisfied that the man was dead, or at least unconscious, he looked to the slightly ajar door to the truck. “Good as any place,” he muttered as he forced it open fully. Just before he dove into the cab he looked down at the sub-machinegun. For the first time in his life he found himself excepting the fact that a gun would be very useful. He quickly snatched it up before taking refugee in the what remained of the floorboard.

[quakernuts]

“Ashley? Yes, you can call me that.”

Luke opened his mouth to say something, but wisely closed it almost as quick. He could tell that, for some reason, she did not like the name. Whatever her reasons were for such a thing, he was probably better off not knowing. She seemed like a person either hiding from something, or running from something. Luke would have put money on both had he been given the chance, but now was not the time for prying. Luke was now concentrated on keeping a steady pace while not passing out. Sure, he could have asked for her to slow down, but that would make it seem like he was being a nuisance. As he continued to jog through the small town, he wondered just exactly how he was going to make it through the rest of this adventure. Sure, he had tall and lethal beside him, but he doubted that was going to get them through all of this. If only he was asked to fix something, then he wouldn’t seem so useless.

Sweat was literally pouring down the man’s face now as he realized he was the only one jogging in the entire group. Maybe its cause my genes hated me when I was born and gave me short stubby legs. Luke could grumble all he wanted; it wouldn’t change a damn thing. Even as he continued, he heard a small noise come Ashley, and turned slightly. To his relief, she slowed her pace slightly, and Luke was able to keep up with a simple brisk walk. “Thank you.” Luke said quietly, not wanting to be overheard by anyone else and showing signs of weakness. Then he noticed that she removed her jacket, revealing multiple scars, but yet again he held his tongue. There would be a time for questions when they really knew each other, or trusted each other, or were dead. Luke preferred options one and two.

If Luke had any hope of a peaceful expedition, which he didn’t, it would have been squashed by the sights of the town gate. Dirty, dented and most likely bloodied. This piece of salvation probably saved the town several times over. Luke shifted uncomfortably in his vest, but refused to back down. He was not going to go running scared back to the transport because of a bad omen that was making his spine crawl like a thousand ants at a picnic. His hands tightened around the gun, and he let out one long breath, but quickly returned to normal. He would need to be strong. He would need to be quick. He would need to be able to kill. He needed a mind set right now. If he went out there, and couldn’t pull the trigger, he was as good as dead. So, he started with few simple rules.

1) If it’s trying to kill you, you kill it! Period!
2) The dead on Sheol will never haunt you!
3) Morality is for the weak!

With these rules in mind, he watched as the little bot bolted forward to unlock the door for them. With a groan of tired metal and a cheerful goodbye from the oblivious little machine, they were out the gate, and out of safety. Luke took one final look back into the town, and stepped out into the wilderness of the planet. Unfortunately for him, Ashley resumed her previous pace, and Luke was back to jogging for awhile. The gate slammed shut, and all feelings of safety instantly left Luke like a one-night stand. He continued to jog to keep up with Ashley, replaying the rules in his head like a broken record. This was how he was going to survive.

As the entire group continued forward under the unrelenting sun, Luke found himself wanting to take off his vest more and more. It was causing unwanted heat attention, but held everything that he carried. He was screwed, and wished he had brought a pack or something. Nothing he could do now, except hope that the rock formation brought some well needed solace from the harsh sun. However, as they continued to creep closer and closer to the place, he had an uneasy feeling. The rocks were tall, and easily able to hold a few bandits in perfect positions. He wasn’t going to go ahead and say he was a soldier, but common sense and luck kept many people alive in situations like this. He liked to believe he had at least the former of those two. Time seemed to stretch, and Luke cared not to mark down how much of it had passed. All he knew was that when they started to enter the rock formation, he felt relief. At least, he felt relief for the first few moments.

He noticed Ashley start to slow down, and he did so in turn, more out of rest than caution. The road was littered with broken trucks and patches that looked like blood. He didn’t like it, and he could tell she didn’t like it either. The group caught up to them, and everyone seemed to slow it down. Ashley took another few steps, then snapped her head up.

That was never a good sign.

Shots rang out, and Luke instantly shielded his face, even though his arm would be useless against a bullet. Another one rang out, and one of their members dropped to the dirt clutching his throat. Shit Shit Shit! Luke nearly panicked, but the one word mentioned from Ashley managed to take him out of his near hysteria. “Sniper!” She yelled, and Luke instantly returned to reality. Bullets impacted on the sand in front of his feet, and he immediately made for the first truck. His short legs making incredibly fast time, in fact, faster than anyone would have guessed from someone of his height. Bullets trailed him as he sprinted for the truck, diving behind its protection before sliding himself up beside it. As he breathed hard, he realized he was close to hyper-ventilating, and forced himself to calm down; yet another rule to add to the list.

4) Keep a calm and level mind.

Once he was calmed down, he saw one of the members of their group, the one with dreadlocks, manage to take down a bandit and dive into a truck. Luke had no such luck for two reasons. One, if he was to prove that he was able to do something, hiding in a truck wouldn’t help the trust factor between him and Ashley. Second, his truck was completely torn to shreds. This vehicle wouldn’t protect against rocks, let alone the hail of bullets impacting around him. Loud pings and scrapes could be heard all around him as he flinched with every impact. He needed to do something, and so he did. Once he felt there was a break in the fire, he stood up, took aim, and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened, not even a spark. “What the fuck?!” Another few rounds impacted around and Luke was forced to drop back behind the truck. As he looked over the gun, trying to avoid getting shot. He finally noticed what he had done wrong. “The fucking safety. I would do something like that!” Once he flicked the safety off, he waited for another break in fire before reaching back up once more. This time, when he pulled the trigger, the gun fired. The kickback though, was a lot more than Luke expected, and his shots went up and wide. He cursed himself as he felt a bruise start to form on his shoulder, and prepared himself more accordingly. His stance widened, and his arms became steady as he sighted upon his first victim.

Rule number one: If it’s trying to kill you, you kill it. Period!

Luke let loose with one three round burst, but his aim was still slightly off. The bandit, who was about twenty yards away, spun around as one bullet out of three managed to hit him in the shoulder. Luke fired once more, and this time managed to peg him in the chest. A sniper behind one of the rock formations turned, and they spotted each other at the same time. Luke aimed and fired, as did the sniper. Luke’s shots went wide, but managed to scare the sniper enough that so did his. The bullet impacted on the truck, ricocheted, and scratched along Luke’s head. It created a deep gash above his left eyebrow to his scalp, but did not penetrate further. Luke ducked down once more. He was bleeding, but since he wasn’t dead, it was only a flesh wound. It hurt like a mother fucker, but what could he do at the moment? Keep fighting, that was all he could do. He burst back upwards, aiming at the sniper once more. This time, he fired burst after burst in hopes that the sheer amount of bullets would simply take him down.

Lady luck was on his side as after the third burst, the bandit clutched his stomach, and then snapped back as his eye exploded. The man fell backwards almost dramatically, and what Luke felt was not disgust, but accomplishment. He had just proven himself better than that man, and it felt good. More bullets impacted on the truck, and a few managed to make it through the weakened metal of the vehicle. Luke cursed himself yet again, and fell back to the second truck where the dreadlock man had taken refuge. It was in better condition, and hopefully would help him stay alive more than anything. Luke rolled over the hood, and braced himself against the side of the truck. He hadn’t managed to get a bead on Ashley after he had taken cover, but if he had survived this far, so had she. He simply had a feeling.

[Shadow Moonseye]

The man’s head snapped sideways under the force of 708’s punch, and as he stumbled back her hands shot forward and she gave his neck a swift twist. The bandit’s bones gave a sickening crackle-snap and she let the body drop. A shout and a line of fire cutting across her cheek sent her diving behind the small rock outcropping that had been previously occupied by a bandit.

How many? At least five, probably more. Heavily armed. She snuck a quick peak over the top of the rock--dropping back down almost immediately as a spray of rounds peppered the area of the rock. Three on me. Shouldn’t be a problem, just have to time it.

Another quick peek over the top, and she dropped down once more. A grimace twisted her features; the movement sending lances of fire shooting through her left shoulder. She gave it a quick look, but the wound would have to wait. She needed to deal with the situation at hand before anything else. Her hands moved quickly, upholstering her gun and flicking the safety off. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and waiting for a brief lull in the fire.

Now.

She poked around the edge of the rock, lining up a shot, and squeezed the trigger. Three rounds center mass on the first bandit; he didn’t have time to react, falling with a crimson flower spreading across his chest. She lined up the next shot, recovering quickly from the recoil of the gun. She pulled the trigger and-

Ch-click!

The woman’s eyes widened and she ducked back behind the rock seconds before the next volley began. Of all the fucking times for it to jam, it has to be now in the middle of a firefight!

[Gunneh]

Anoch had watched them, followed them, since they had left town. To see so many people, all of them looking for Paradise, it seemed, fascinated him: Why would they come to the wastes of Sheol to search for something that may or may not exist? What in the world made them bold enough to look all of those legends in the eyes and question their validity? Was it stupidity or just natural human curiosity?

He guessed the former, but wasn't it oh-so intriguing to think about the latter as well?

By the first hour of their trek, they were haggard and wilted, their lungs probably gasping for air and their throats screaming for water. He couldn't help but smirk at their weakness as he pulled the waterskin free from his belt and drank deeply from it. He wasn't entirely thirsty, but it felt good to his soul that he knew the ins and outs of survival in the wastes and that they did not, and he relished in the feeling.

Suddenly, the group stopped in their tracks, the female that stood in the point position of the caravan taking a few steps off the beaten path. His eyes caught the bloodstained sand and the wreckage of past caravans that had made their way down the same path and his mind lit up with frantic terror for those below him. Anoch looked ahead to a familiar cluster of rocks, his eyes catching fleeting glimpses of hair and blood red bandannas, the same color as the ones he had worn in his time with the bandits.

"No," he said breathlessly as the first longshot bullet spiraled out of the rifle and smacked helplessly into the ground where the female had been standing just moments before. Another shot rang out and connected with an elderly male's throat, causing the man to drop instantly, blood spewing from the wound on his neck. He cursed silently to himself as he watched the group scatter this way and that to avoid the gunfire, wishing that he'd have noticed the similarities sooner than later instead of laughing at the group of travellers.

He swung out right in a wide arc, his back hunched to avoid the gunfire as best he could. He needed a long range weapon to take out the gunmen that were laying down the suppressive fire and he was guessing the fallen male would have something on him, he just wasn't prepared for the magnitude of the man's patchwork cannon as he hefted the thing to his shoulder and aimed down what he was guessing would be considered the iron sights and pulled the trigger.

The sniper grabbed cover just quick enough to miss the hail of debris that shot towards him, but his comrades weren't so lucky: They fell quickly, most of their upper body mutilated by the glass and rocks that has struck them at breakneck speeds.

He'll run now, Anoch thought as he tossed the cannon down and looked around for the rest of the survivors. All was quiet now, but it wasn't over completely: A rogue bandit was making his way towards one of the hulks of metal that they were using as cover, his rifle hefted into the ready position. Anoch growled and took off towards the man at full speed, drawing his scimitar from his belt as he did. The blade connected with the man's back and ran through with the ease of a warm knife through butter, but Anoch still grabbed the man's skull and yanked it hard to the side, the crack of his neck breaking comforting him just a bit.

He let the man fall, his chest heaving and his heart pounding. Pain rippled through his arm as he looked down at his shoulder and saw the blood dripping from a gunshot wound. He stared at it momentarily before shrugging it off, resigning himself to clean and care for it later. He made his way around the wreckage and saw the blonde female that had been leading the group before the fire fight.

"Are you alright?"

[Guilty Carrion]

With every step, she found herself growing more and more bored. It crawled up from her guts, nipping and pulling at the fringes of her mind, before being swat down with a focused thought. She had to keep her eyes open, after all this was Sheol. Her eyes flicked over the barren wasteland for what had to be the hundredth time, forcing herself to stifle the yawn boiling up from within her chest. It would have helped if the scenery would actually change during this mind-numbing trek of theirs.

“God, nothing but rocks and sand on this damn planet.” She had heard the stories, of course. The Devils Parlour was rather famous. Of the murderous bandits that lurked the wastes, preying on travelers who dared to wander the roads. She chuckled at the memory of her mother’s horrified face when Eve had told her the destination of her next dig. Oh, that had been a FUN argument. She stifled another laugh, as they finally approached the rock face.

Her humour didn’t last much longer.

The gunshot shattered the still, and her body locked up as the man in front of her fell to the ground, clutching his throat in an attempt to stop the tide of crimson that now spilled from his wound. She felt the ground around her burst into a hail of bullets, as the others began to move quickly, fighting back against their assailants, leaving her and the dying man behind.

Her legs failed her, dropping her roughly to her knees, as her hidden eyes locked with the fallen man’s. She stared, her body numb and cold, unaware of the bloodshed erupting all around her, of the bullets tearing the earth apart, or of the crimson staining the sand and earth. Slowly, agonizingly so, the light began to trickle away, slipping from sight into the inviting darkness. Her stomach knotted; a shaky hand slowly reaching for the man’s face. His eyes never left hers, studying every detail as they dulled, before her hand reached his cheek. For a moment, the world stood still, as something warm slipped into his and a bloodied smile crept onto his face.

And then it was…gone. She watched quietly, the dulled black staring through her as if she was nothing but a window. Somewhere in the dark, she saw the flicker of orange, and the outlines of a face. Her face. Staring back.

The world came rushing back, as Eve squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hands against his eyelids. The dark was blocked, and she rose into a low crouch on wobbly legs. Her mind raced, trying to find a calm within the tempest now raging within. Don’t puke. Safety first. Limper when to the trucks. He seems to know what he’s doing. Find him.

Waiting for a dull in the firing(she thanked whatever the hell was up there that the bandits had focused on her companions), the young woman broke into full sprint, her eyes locked on the her goal and unwilling to waver. Ducking past a man with a rifle, she scrambled past the still warm corpse of a bandit, and into the relative safety of the truck. And Limper was there to boot.

Sinking low in the cab beside him, she nervously fingered the handle of her machete. Now the gun was looking like a smarter option, dammit! “We just gonna hide in here till someone wins?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the proximity allowed it to be heard over the roar of the gunfight.

With a hurried glance, she spotted the SMG lodged firmly in his hands, and fixed her eyes upon him, a scowl settling across her face. “You’ve got a fucking gun! Use it, you twat! Look, there’s a bandit ri-” A monstrous figure burst into view, running the bandit through with a blade, before breaking the man’s neck like a twig. Eve’s mouth dropped, before she roughly yanked on the back of one of his many dreadlocks, panic creeping into her voice. “Shoot it! Shoot it now! Drop it! Do something to kill it!”

[The Melancholy Spirit]

Osiris remained, for the most part, perfectly still in the floorboard. The only movement was that of his head as it remained in near-constant motion so he could keep an eye on every opening of the truck. He was about to let out a sigh of temporary relief when the very door he had used to gain entrance flew open again. His heart leapt and he made an attempt to level the sub-machinegun at the form that was… diving into the truck as well? It only took another split second for him to register the hair color and the obvious feminine qualities of the tiny frame now smashed into the truck beside him.

“We just gonna hide in here till someone wins?”

He blinked. “That was rather the ide-” It wasn’t a moment later she was scolding him, with a rather vicious scowl to add a nice intensity to her words, about not using the weapon in his hands. Osiris parted his lips to respond something about wasting ammo when the woman went into a tirade, pulling forcefully on a lock of his dreads. Osiris growled in pain. He felt tempted to slap her arm away. Then he saw what had set the woman off.

“Christ…” he muttered, pushing himself up enough to rest the end of the gun on the dash. Reacting in a panicked haste he didn’t bother aiming. He squeezed the trigger, sending a spray of bullets out toward the giant of a man; if it was indeed a man. A second later and a serious of grating clicks were all that came from the weapon. Osiris cursed and dropped back into the floorboard. It was in that moment he realized his foolishness of bothering to grab the weapon and not at least one extra clip.

[SpaceWheeler2.0]

Time had been the only thing that plagued Nydin’s mind since the group had left the town. Well, it wasn’t really the only thing, but he sure had a hard time thinking of much else than the long walk in the torturous sun of Sheol. In an instant, everything changed.

“Get down!” he shouted, just following the first echoing gunshot.

His first instinct was to jump for the dirt, but he withheld himself. It’s not particularly effective to hide from a sniper above you by jumping to the flat ground without cover. No, it’s not intelligent at all. Instead, he waved the members following him forward while dropping to a knee, aiming up at where he thought the sniper was. He fired two small bursts, maybe four or five rounds each. Nydin wasn’t expecting to hit the shooter from below with a primarily close-quarters weapon. The intent was just to buy time for the group to move by getting the sniper to duck.

“Everyone move!” was his next instinctual command. He didn’t take the time to even determine if anyone had stopped in the first place, and it wasn’t like the command was really even necessary. In law enforcement and, he assumed, in the military as well, you didn’t take chances of someone not getting the message.

He stood up in a fluid motion, twisting toward the two wrecks of trucks before taking off at his full pace. Before he made it, though, one bandit swung out from behind a large rock about twenty yards away. Nydin stopped, dropping to his knee to steady his weapon. In the heat of the gunfight, time slowed from his perspective as all the necessary thoughts went through the young man’s mind. ’Line up the sights… center mass… breathe out… tap, tap, tap, tap, tap… now get your ass back up.’ All of the actions followed. Four red holes appeared in the bandit’s chest, walking their way upward, the fifth shot probably moved too far up and passed right over the dead man’s shoulder. Nydin didn’t pay that much attention, though, and couldn’t let himself think to hard about having just killed a man. It wasn’t his first. He was sure, though, that the dread and shame would wash over him as the adrenaline left his system when it was over. That is, if he was alive when it was over.

Nothing stopped him from finishing the dash to one of the trucks. He took refuge down near the end of the bed, making sure he could see if any of the thieves were trying to flank from that side. A pair of them were, so he raised his weapon to let loose a few short bursts from his weapon. The cover they had with the rocks, though, gave them a better position than he had, and it forced him to move back.

“I have two moving around this flank!” he shouted, hoping to get the attention of someone, though there was enough going on that his report might not have been heard.

[wakeangel]

“Cute?? Seriously. I think I really am going to shoot you now.” Walking behind Alex, she didn't bother to hide the bit of a smile the compliment gave her though. He didn't respond, an intentness coming over him as he scanned the group ahead of them.“Oho,” she teased, “puttin' on the game face. Is that your 'Don't mess with me! I take pictures!' look?”

Personally, she was amused that he was getting so serious so early. There was no way anyone in the town would attack a group this size within the town walls after they'd had a chance to arm themselves. There were just too many unknowns and too many ways it could come back and bite the townsfolk in the ass. No, the ambush she considered a solid possibility wouldn't come until they were well beyond the comparative safety of this little shithole. Still, she watched the goofy little bot carefully as he entered his code. 'It never hurts to leave yourself options, just in case,' she thought..

She and Alex settled into something she refused to classify as a companionable silence on the trek away from town. The blazing sun beat down on them, bringing her quickly to the determination that this was a shitty way to traverse a hell planet. This Garage place was going to offer her better alternatives until she reached the city or there would be hell to pay. She snorted in amusement at the irony of her choice of words and sped up a bit to fall into place beside Alex.

Now that the gates had fallen behind them, she took her duties as rear guard very seriously. Trusting the forward vector to Amazon, the guy with the floppy hat and the Local with the crazy cannon, she continually scanned the sides and rear of the group for signs of attack or dangerous animals. She knew she could count on Alex for his side, but she made a show of double checking it just to fuck with him.

To pass the time as they walked, she took her fledgling plans for him out and re-examined, refined and finalized them. The finished plan didn't look nearly as much fun as her original version, but the end result would be much more desirable. She wasn't yet ready to examine why exactly she had chosen to do things this way, she just trusted her instincts.

Even with her bio-mods, the sun grew damned hot as the hours passed. The rock face looming up ahead looked like a slice of heaven to her. To distract herself from the sweat trickling down her back, she decided to pass the last several hundred yards by putting the first part of her plan in motion.

“So, Alex,” she leaned a bit nearer so their voices wouldn't carry across the desert and put as much evil amusement into her voice as she could at a near-whisper, “I've decided what I'm going to do to you.”

Her eyes crinkled up in amusement, but kept wanting to rest on the beckoning cool of the shade ahead. In her experience, though, the moment you let your guard down was always when the shit hit the fan, so she kept them moving.

“Don't look so nervous,” she laughed, even though she hadn't looked at his face. “Okay, maybe you should look nervous,” Her eyes swept ahead again. Not far now. Her eyes squinted as a spark of light glinted off the rock cliff to brand her retinas “But I'm going to have a lot of fun with-”

What she'd just seen registered, and she stopped, reaching out to slap a restraining hand on Alex's chest. “Wait...”

She saw that the Amazon had already stopped and the others were piling up in a bunch behind her. This wasn't good. The group was a herd of sitting ducks. Even as the thought formed, the first shots rang out and the Local went down in a spray of blood. 'Did I call it, or did I call it?' she thought, ignoring the fact that she'd also put her money on Dreds to be the first down. “Damn, I'm good!'

Tugging at Alex's shirt, she sprinted to use a nearby boulder for cover. Ducking low behind it, she unslung her bow and checked her pistol in its holster. She heard Amazon's cry of 'Sniper!', and muttered “Huh. Well let's see what we can do about that.” Reaching for a smoke arrow, she knocked it and peeked over the edge of the boulder.

“Shit!” She drew back as three bullets spit across the top of the rock towards her. A sliver of rock sliced her cheek, but she barely noticed.

A few moments later, she tried again, popping her head up from a different place. When no one shot back, she stood, took aim and fired one smoke arrow into the rock face about twelve feet up, and then another twenty feet to the left of the first. “Whoo!” she cheered, ducking back down. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as great clouds of billowing smoke started roiling up from her arrows. “Now that's how it's done!” she shouted to Alex over the sounds of gunfire.

The thermals coming off the desert would carry the smoke straight up the cliff face. With great luck, the pillar of it would draw help, though she doubted it. With any luck, some of the fuckers might lose their grip on the wall and fall, but at the very least, any snipers left up there would have a hell of a time getting off decent shots.

Twin motors started up started up from about a hundred feet on the other side of the path. Two cycles, each sporting a driver and a gunman spurted out from behind a fall of rock, spitting up clouds of dust as they gunned for Dae's position behind the boulder. Hastily, she re-slung her crossbow over her shoulder, and pulled out her pistol.

“We're gonna have a round-up crew on our ass any second now, Alex, so I hope you know how to use that Poppa of yours!”

[Shadow Moonseye]

Her fingers wrapped around the slide and with a swift movement pulled it back, freeing the jam. She didn’t dare pop out to fire yet, there wasn’t a proper lull. She set her shoulder against the edge of the rock and readjusted her grip on the hand cannon; waiting for her chance.

Quite suddenly the sounds of battle changed. They weren’t firing in her direction any longer. 708 frowned; what could have drawn their attention away from her? She risked a quick peek around the rock and her eyes widened. A mountain of a man hefted the dead local’s cannon and fired it, debris shredding through the unlucky targets in a matter of seconds. Inhaling sharply, she ducked back down.

The man was nearly as large as 715 had been, and darkly tanned. He had to be native. His attire was similar to the bandits that were trying to kill her, Luke, and the others. Yet, he appeared to be killing his own kind. What set them apart?

Red bandanas. The thought leaped into her mind immediately. They’re wearing red bandanas. He’s not. What’s the significance of the bandana? It marks them as the same. As allies. A means of identification. He’s not with them. What does that make him? A member of a rival faction? She frowned. Too coincidental for him have jumped out of nowhere to help. He couldn’t have just been in the area. He must have been following us. The thought set her heart racing. How long has he been following? How did I not notice? I’ve been letting my guard down, I’ve been too re-

”Are you alright?”

The voice broke her reverie, rumbling with a rough edge: definitely male. She started, leaping from her crouched position and leveling her one on the center of the man’s forehead. Her finger hovered over the trigger and cold teal met with dark brown. A second later her mind caught up with her reflexes and she lowered the gun--not completely, but enough to show she wasn’t going to shoot him then and there.

He hadn’t tried to kill her, or made any hostile movements. He had asked her a question, seemed concerned about her well being. She need to make a decision. Answer and accept him as another ally in the fight, or kill him before he did the same to her. Another capable body in the battle couldn’t hurt, but he had to have been following them and that raised alarms in her mind. She frowned and lowered her gun further.

Now or never.

“I’m f-”

The area around her and the man was peppered with rounds, cutting her off. What 708 did next was instinctual: her free hand shot out, wrapped around the man’s arm and she ripped him into cover behind the rock. A second later the hail of bullets stopped. She couldn’t tell if the man had been hit, even if he had it would have to wait. The direction of the onslaught had come from directly across the road, it couldn’t have been bandits, that was where she was certain several of the group were taking cover. The idiots had shot at her! She might be able to heal quickly, but she didn’t take any pleasure in being wounded. Especially from those that were supposed to be on her side.

“Friendly fire!” She roared, her voice carrying across the distance easily enough. Hopefully one of them knows what that means.

Almost as if her shout had been a trigger the remaining bandits resumed their assault. Twin roars of engines, two bikes, four riders. A shout from one of the group, another pair flanking. The smoke seemed to be throwing off the sniper though, so that was one less problem to deal with. The riders split, one pair bearing down on the couple that had been bringing up the rear, the other aiming for 708 and the man she had just marked as an ally.

More rounds shattered against the rock that served as their cover and she shot the man next to her a look, releasing her grip on his arm. Only then did she find the time to finish answering him. “Ask me when we’re not being shot at.”

[quakernuts]

Everything just seemed to get worse from that point on. He had managed to get eyes on Ashley, and as suspected, she was perfectly fine. Bullets pinged the truck and dirt all around Luke, and he flinched with every single impact. This was something he simply wasn’t used to, and he had to visibly force himself from entering the fetal position and just laying there. He saw her gun jam, but there was nothing he could do at the moment. He could most likely fix the gun, but chances are she knew how to do that, and he didn’t feel like running into a hail of bullets. The one thing that did catch his attention was the bandit making his way towards him. Rounds ricocheted off of the truck, keeping him from firing upon the bandit that was damn near right in front of him.

Suddenly, the rounds stopped, and Luke looked up to see someone as tall, or taller, than Ashley kicking the guy’s ass. The situation started to look up, granted that this guy was friendly. Once he was done, he went to Ashley, and started talking to her. Luke didn’t register the words, seeing as the man in the truck he was hiding behind started firing upon the man that had just helped them. Luke slammed his fist on the door leading to where Dreads and the other girl were holding up. He yelled at them with more of a warning then anger. “What are you doing?! He just saved our asses!” Even as he said this, Ashley managed to pull him into cover from that point on.

So many things were happening that Luke couldn’t keep himself from spinning in his mind. There were snipers, but they were being obscured by smoke. There were a couple of bandits flanking behind them, and there was a couple of bikes now trying to run them down. When shit hits the fan, it gets spread everywhere. He wondered just exactly where he would be the most use to, well, anyone really. The bandits that were flanking were a fair distance from him, and would require an open ground sprint in order to get any decent position on them. The bikes had split up, with one aiming at the rear group, and the other for Ashley and Hulk. Considering that they were nearly right next to him, on the other side of the truck, he decided that the bike was the better target. As he propped himself up for a decent shot, he muttered to himself. “If I kill him, I call the bike.”

Burst after burst left the barrel of Arichon Rifle, to no avail. Sparks could be seen hitting the side of the bike and the front, but either from lack of skill or abundance of luck, no round found either the driver or the gunner. Seeing as a new threat had sprung up to meet them, the bike’s course changed slightly towards Luke. He continued firing, but soon rounds peppered the truck, and a few made it through the metal. The dirt around him exploded like cherry bombs, and he ducked and held his head. He stole a glance upwards, just in time to see the bike start to swerve around the truck. “Shit…” Panic started to grip his mind, and instantly he was on his feet. As the bike finally rounded the truck, Luke threw himself over the hood, and felt the rounds massacre the air behind him. He was up and firing while trying to get to some better cover. His aim was incredibly lousy as bullets were going everywhere but at the bike. Running backwards, he managed to trip over a rock, and nearly on top of Ashley and her new friend.

Despite the fall, he was up and still going before anyone who wasn’t already watching would have noticed the fall. He kept firing even though it wasn’t doing him any good. The bike finished its strafing run, and started to drill its way forward towards all three of them. Luke had to stop, take off his glasses, and wipe the blood from his head wound out of his eye before he could continue to fire. At least I don’t have to reload every five seconds Luke thought to himself as he continued his useless barrage. “Help, please?!” Luke yelled at the two as he used the rock to prop up his rifle and fire. He was not one to hide his faults; he knew he wouldn’t be able to take this bike. It was moving too fast for an amateur to take on, and he was panting hard from the exertion placed on his body over the past couple of minutes. Sweat was pouring down Luke’s face, along with a single stream of blood from the gash on his head. If he registered the pain from the wound, he didn't pay heed to it as the adrenaline coursing through his body refused to let him stop.

[Gunneh]

Anoch dropped - rather, he was pulled down - behind the rock face as the shots rang out, the female screaming to her comrades to cease fire. The roar of the motorcycles suddenly became audible and he growled, his free hand already inching its way towards his back, his fingers gripping the cool handle of the scythe that was strapped there.

“Ask me when we’re not being shot at.”

"Fair enough," he replied coolly, his eyes locking onto hers for a moment before the presence of another broke his gaze. He looked to the bleeding man as he asked for assistance and nodded. "You take that one. I've got this side."

With no more words, he stood, his head poking over the top of the rock. He could see the motorcycle and its rider nearing them quickly, a sub-machine gun attached haphazardly to the handlebars of the vehicle. Bullets exploded all around him as he dropped once more and focused his gaze on the female once again.

"Stay put," he ordered, giving one swift tug on the handle of the scythe, freeing it from its makeshift harness. He stood once again and spun the thing once in his hand, the sun gleaming off of the polished bone before he stepped out into the open once more. The riders eyes widened for just a moment, as if he had just recognised the giant man and the weapon he was wielding, but the surprised expression was gone just as soon as it came and the rider squeezed the trigger once more.

Anoch moved swiftly from his position and sped towards the oncoming assault, zigging and zagging to dodge the bullets as best he could, though he felt the sting of one or two striking his already bleeding shoulder and several more grazing his skin just enough to open up more wounds. He spun the scythe once more, bellowing an unearthly, ear-shattering yell as he neared the point of impact with the rider and his vehicle. As planned, the motorcycle swerved, the rider freeing the gun at the same time, his gaze following Anoch as he passed, his finger still hammered down on the trigger.

Anoch stopped and pivoted on one foot, his arm extending to its fullest point as the rider met the polished blade neck first. It sliced through the flesh with ease, but met resistance at the man's spinal cord. With a swift tug, however, the blade completed its task, yanking the man from his bike, his head landing a few feet away from its body.

He wiped the blood from the blade and onto his pants, then pried the sub-machine gun from the man's death grip before making his way back to the rock. He tossed the gun to the female and nodded.

"That one shouldn't jam."

[wakeangel]

When the second bike peeled off for the main group, Dae breathed a sigh of relief. Good. Not her problem. Two she could handle. Four would probably kick her ass.

Alex proved he could indeed use his gun when, a moment later, he squared off, lined up his shot and, cool as a cucumber, fired off a three-round burst. The last two shots peppered the face of the driver with stinging salt, sending her careening out of control with a shriek of pain. The bike swerved and slammed into Alex, and then cartwheeled into the boulder, where they all went down in a tangled heap.

The gunman managed to roll clear, firing wildly at Dae in an attempt to buy himself the space to get on his feet. Foregoing the cover of the boulder for a more direct approach, she advanced on him and shot back. The pistol she used was small, its rounds equally compact compared to standard bullets, but designed to pack a hell of a punch nonetheless. Each contained a small amount of micro-explosive rigged to blow a few milliseconds after impact. While not powerful enough to pierce armor, its effect inside a body was brutal.

Her first round went wide. The micro-explosive detonation sent a spray of dirt and gravel into the air. The second burst on his armor, knocking him on his backside as he tried to get to his feet. Advancing, she kicked his gun out of his hand before he could raise it at her again. “Nuh-uh,” she told him, her eyes on him dispassionate, his increasingly desperate. She quirked a smile as her third bullet pulped the inside of his skull.

Dispatching what was left of the driver was more of a mercy kill than threat removal, and then she hauled the bike off Alex to assess the damage. The bike, remarkably, was still running. Most of the impact against the rock had been absorbed by the bandit riding it. With her foot, she nudged Alex. No response, though the slight rise and fall of his chest told her he was still alive.

“Hey! Hey, dude,” she called to him, nudging him harder. “Alex! Wake up already!”

Nothing. She stared at him indecisively for a long moment. His skin was pale beneath several cuts and bruises, and, from what she'd seen, he had to have broken bones and possible internal bleeding. Without help, he'd die soon. Any city hospital could have him back on his feet in no time, but the nearest city was God knew how far. Taking him along would just slow her down and probably get her killed.

With a shrug more casual than she felt, she slung her leg over the bike and settled herself in its faded leather seat. Oh well. Time to go. The slow turn of loss in the pit of her stomach met with a wall of denial that swallowed it whole, and she turned her back on Alex. The boulder hid her from the rest of the group, but she could still see the tall column of smoke rising off the cliff face and hear occasional shots and yelling. Revving the bike, she started towards the others, only to screech to a halt a moment later.

She couldn't leave him. If he died, then the intel he'd stolen from Mingus Munitions would find its way to the press and bring her Daddy and his empire to their knees. Plans were already underway to make the data irrelevant, but it was a massive undertaking, spanning half the known galaxy, and still over a year from completion. Until then she was stuck protecting him.

Fuckfuckfuck! It still rankled that he'd bested her on Waltz, and now she had to play nursemaid? True, she'd left him handcuffed to a bed in his birthday suit on Arise and stole his favorite boxers, but that was piddly shit next to the pay dirt he'd hit with her dealer's comp. She still couldn't figure out how he'd gotten past the encryption.

Using her feet, Dae backed the bike up next to him. Getting off, she let out a long-suffering sigh. She just hoped she was strong enough to lift the damned galoot.

[Guilty Carrion]

She bit back a growl when the clicks reached her ears, shooting him a look far dirtier than the scowl she had given him before. “Nice move, Limper. Did ammo not cross your mind?” The shout of friendly fire reached her ears, before the thump on the side caused Eve to jump. The voice trickled into her mind, and, with a venomous hiss, she crawled up and over Dreads, to lean her head out the window and get a view on the one shouting. Her middle finger shot up, as she waved it aggressively at the man. “Yeah, well, not everyone immediately trusts a walking rock that can break a neck without a problem! Forgive me for wanting to live, asshole!”

Bullets tore up the hood of the truck, causing her to yelp and scramble back inside. That was far too close for comfort. They needed to fight back, but only Spinning around, she grabbed Limper’s collar, straddling his waist as hellfire raged in her eyes, quite obvious even behind the dark tint of her shades. “As for you! Go and find some god-damn ammo, or I swear to the Tervim that the last thing you’ll see is me STRANGLING THE LIFE OUT OF YOU.”

A thunderous roar stopped her slender hands inches from the wounded man’s throat, confusion settling across her features. “What the fuck is that?” Creeping towards the opening, the young woman’s head poked out, scanning the area for the source.

The gunner of the remaining cycle quickly righted the machine, and used the large man’s shift in attention to rev the motorbike away from his attacker. She watched for a moment longer, before darting back inside the truck, and pulling her machete free with a swift motion of her hand. Glancing at Limper, she grinned. “Make sure to get the ammo, tough guy. I’ll be back before ya miss me.” Slipping out onto the hood, Eve pressed her small frame tight against the metal, ignoring the unpleasant burning sensation that started to creep up her exposed skin.

As the bike got closer, a deep breath rolled past her lips. Be quick. Be fast. And don’t feel. With a shaky breath, the young woman sprung to her feet, before leaping across the small distance between her and the speeding motorbike, her machete raised and ready to strike.

Of course, nothing ever really goes according to plan. The blade lunged down too soon, driving easily through the ramshackle bike’s handle bars, locking the mechanism in place, despite the rider’s immediate attempts to alter his course. Holding onto the machete for dear life, Eve swung behind the rider with a loud “Oof!”, only to feel the wind leave her lungs a moment later as the gunner drove his elbow hard into her stomach in an attempt to dislodged her.

Gasping, she didn’t have time to react before the elbow crashed back into her stomach, and rolling to the ground below. “Piss! Fuck! SHIT! AH FUCK!” With every bounce and bump, a new swear burst from the small girl’s frame, some that probably didn’t exist, and some that were in a language not many would understand. Finally coming to a stop, her face down in the sand, she let out a low groan of pain as her body began to register its pain, spreading rapidly throughout her petite frame.

The retreating bandit wasn’t as lucky, as he tried to pry the machete from the bike’s handles, only for it to crash against the burnt out husk of a truck, and smash his skull into the blackened frame with a sickening crack, before falling to the ground with a thud.

A dark grin spread across Eve’s face at the sound. “Take that, jackass.” Lifting her head ever so slightly, she looked back towards the truck. “LIMPER! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE AND HELP ME.”

[The Melancholy Spirit]

Osiris let out a groan as he shrugged his shoulders, not bothering to respond to the woman’s rhetorical question. More rounds ricocheted off the other side of the truck, forcing him to instinctually drop lower into the truck as the girl crawled over him to yell back at whoever shouted at them for the apparent friendly fire. Osiris found himself questioning how they new for certain that the hulking giant was truly a friend. A moment later his thoughts were interrupted.

He felt himself pulled upward slightly, tiny hands wrapped around his collar. Wide-eyed he looked at her, straddling over his waist, as she started screaming at him to grab some ammo before she strangled the life out of him. A moment later she was moving again, her hands having stopped just before her fingers managed to enclose around his throat. Osiris sighed, falling back against what was once the seat of the truck. The command to make sure he found some ammo, accompanied by the fact she would apparently be back before she missed him, made Osiris raise a brow. And then she was out over the hood of the truck.

“Never stops moving, does she…” he muttered to himself as he leaned up to watch her movements. In his peripherals he saw the bike coming closer. He blinked, his jaw dropping open and turning into a smirk just before she leapt off the truck at the rider. The following events happened in a quick succession, difficult for Osiris to even attempt to keep track of as he ducked under the threat of more bullets hitting the truck, a few finding their way inside and one missing his knee by less than an inch.

By the time he looked back out across the hood he saw that the bike had hit one of the other trucks. The girl was turned back toward him; her clothing tattered in a few locations leaving Osiris to wonder what exactly had happened. She didn’t waste any time yelling at him to help her. Figuring risking the hail of bullets that would likely follow was worth the pain he’d avoid her inflicting after the fight, he slipped out unto the hood and rolled off to the side where the dead bandit lie.

He quickly searched over the body for ammunition. Finding a few clips he tossed all but one into his bag, using the new clip to reload before moving toward the girl.

[Shadow Moonseye]

Four bandits. Second bike can be handled by the couple. Bike needs to go first, its more mobile. 708 looked to the man next to her--no, he couldn’t help much. Too mobile and he only had close range weapons. She grimaced. Always disliked targets that were on vehicles. She popped up from her crouch to line up a shot on the driver only to see Luke running backwards towards her position, firing at the bike that was pursuing him. His bullets all went wide; he’d be lucky if he didn’t kill one of the group shooting like that.

He was virtually on top of them when he tripped. 708’s eyes widened in alarm and she moved to help him up. It proved unnecessary as he was on his feet seconds after he fell and behind the cover of the rock. Blood, he was bleeding heavily. Life threatening? No it was a head wound. Head wounds always bleed like that. She reminded herself. He’ll be fine.

Help, please?!” Luke continued to fire, the rock providing a stabilizing base for his rifle.

"You take that one. I've got this side." Words from the newcomer, nodding in response to the cry for assistance. He looked above the rock, marking the vehicle, before ducking back down under the spray of rounds. He turned his gaze back to her and ordered: “Stay put.”

708’s eyes darkened, but the man was gone before she could respond, his scythe held firmly in one hand. Distraction. Use it. He might get lucky. She shoved her anger back into the recesses of her mind and focused on the matter at hand. A quick glance at Luke showed that he was still shooting. She set a hand on his shoulder, causing him to look back at her.

“Stop. You’ll shoot him, not the targets. Wait for your line of fire to clear.” Seeing that he heeded her advice, she turned her attention back out to the battle. The two bandits were still flanking, and the man with the floppy hat and SMG wasn’t having much luck with them. Easy shots. They were focused, didn’t see her.

She raised her gun and set her feet. First shot was lined up and she squeezed the trigger. The first of the pair fell, two rounds ripping through his chest and side. Second target was lined up in an instant and again the trigger was squeezed. His head exploded in shower of bone and blood and grey matter. Satisfied that both were dead; she looked back to where the native had gone out to fight with his scythe just in time to see him finish a clean decapitation.

He knows what he’s doing with that scythe. Still leaves the gunner. She watched coolly as the man cleaned his blade on his pants and pulled the driver’s SMG from the death grip. He started back across the raod to her and Luke’s position--completely ignoring the dazed gunner! Her eyes shifted to watch the fallen bandit leap to his feet, right the bike, and start to flee. A flash of movement and purple: His progress cut short by a kamikaze leap from the tiny loud woman.

708’s gaze flicked back to the native as he closed the final distance between then. He tossed her the gun.

“That one shouldn’t jam.”

Lightning fast she snatched the gun from the air with her free hand. She took a moment to look her hand cannon over before holstering it. Better to clean it that night than try to break it down now. Her next movements were little more than a blur; breaking down the sub-machine gun with military precision. Each piece was set on the rock carefully with the names of the separate parts flashed through her mind unbidden.

Barrel. Stock. Slide. Magazine. The mental listing continued until her task was complete. She looked over at the native and spoke, her words rapid:

“Jarkov 315 ‘Violent Thumper’. Average rate of fire for a SMG, piss poor accuracy, packs on hell of a punch. Chew through ammo. Favored close quarters gun of resistance and gurrella fighters 100 years back. Known to be nigh indestructible, they have one noticeable flaw: If improperly cared for the slide sticks. This specific gun has not been properly cared for. At all. Ammunition would be hard to find. I’ll stick with my Preliator.”

She took a moment to look around, marking the positions of everyone. Corpses littered the road, bandits and the man who had had the makeshift cannon. The purple haired woman was down the road a ways and the man with his hair twisted to ropes was moving towards her. The one in the floppy hat was still by the truck with the red haired woman. The couple that had brought up the rear were still at the edge of the rock face--the man looked to be out cold and the woman struggling to lift him. Her eyes paused on her backpack where it lay in the middle of the road, forgotten by the fight, and she became aware of the dull throb of pain in her shoulder and the sting cutting across her cheek.

Graze will heal by morning, but this shot will take longer. Properly cleaning it can wait; I don’t want to stay here for very long. That sniper’s long gone and there’s no knowing who or what he might bring back. She jogged out to retrieve her pack, scooped it up, and jogged back.

“We should hurry.” She unzipped the pack and dug out her small med-kit. “The sniper wasn’t killed. He could bring back more, and if he doesn’t do so right away he might later.” Either way, someone knows about us now. The thought made her uneasy and her jaw tightened. She opened the kit and pulled out a nearly empty tube of QuikSeal, some bandages, and some medical tape. “If you have wounds bandage them up quick, don’t worry about cleaning them. That can come later, when we’re safe.” She cast a sideways glance at the native. “That goes for you too.”

[wakeangel]

Kneeling beside Alex on the ground, Daeoneira rummaged through her bag until she came up with a small vial that had probably cost more than Alex's yearly salary. 'I'll just put it on his tab,' she thought snarkily. Opening it, she shook a small amount of what looked like pepper over his open wounds. She watched the parasites worm their way deeper into the wounds, waiting until they completely disappeared before trying to move him. The tiny creatures absorbed nutrients from the blood stream and gave back a whole host of beneficial side effects, one of which was increased coagulant production. They'd stop the bleeding, might even stop internal bleeding depending on the nature of the wound, and they'd hopefully help stabilize him until she could get him somewhere that had a doctor.

The rest of the battle centered on the main group, so she was left in relative peace as she struggled to maneuver 80 pounds of bike and almost 200 pounds of dead weight into some mobile configuration. After much heaving and cursing, she finally managed to sling Alex over the gas tank and from there get him slumped over the handle bars. He ended up with a burn mark on his forehead from the engine, and she had to tie his hands and feet in place before he'd stay put, and even then he kept wanting to slouch over to one side or the other.

“Lazy bastard,” she muttered as she revved the motor and drove carefully over the rough terrain and back onto the road to rejoin the others. She had to sit way back on the seat, and lean forward over his back to drive. Annoying, but not impossible, though there was no way she'd be able to shoot, and reinforcements could arrive at any minute or ambush them at any point on the way to the garage.

She scanned the group for a replacement driver as she neared. They seemed to have come out of this in decent shape. Not perfect by a long shot, she noted as she drove past the cratered remains of the local's head, but at least ambulatory. She would never admit it, but she chose Dreds as a reward for beating her prediction of first to die. Rolling to a stop in front of him, she fixed him with a steely gaze over the rim of her sunglasses.

“Hey Gimpy, you know how to drive this thing? If not I'll walk you through it.” Her tone made clear that she didn't care if he wanted to or not, but then why wouldn't he jump at the chance to rest his leg and have her fabulousness as a bodyguard? “Oh, and one more thing,” she said sweetly as she carefully dismounted and held the bike ready. “Drop him and your legs will match.”

[quakernuts]

Time had slowed to a near crawl as the spent shells from his rifle flew past his face with intricate detail. He watched as the bike drew ever closer, his bullets refusing to find a mark on the two bandits riding towards him and ever so intent on making sure he never draw his next breath. Bullets pocket marked the rock he was stationing his gun on, and he was sure he was never going to live through the next five minutes of this adventure. Why had he chosen this exact myth to follow? Why couldn't he have picked something easy, like seeing if there was a treasure at the end of the rainbow? Because that would have been too easy, Luke thought to himself. If I wasn't such a damn adrenaline junkie, I could have a respectable job making enough money to let live comfortably! But no, I have to go and get shot at! Luke's thoughts were interrupted by the native, who seemed to be finally answering his call for help.

"You take that one, I got this side!"

"What the fuck do you mean 'take that one'?" It was too late though, as the native sprung around the side of the rock towards the bike that Luke was currently firing at. Fucking retard's going to get shot! Luke fired even faster, hoping against hope that he would draw the attention away from the man as he made his suicidal run towards the bike. It wasn't until the hand of Ashley came down on his shoulder that he dared stop.

"Stop. You'll shoot him, not the targets. Wait for your line of fire to clear." Luke nodded, but still rested the gun on the rock, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. As it turned out, it wasn't needed. Despite the fact that the native was completely in the open, he had managed to reach the bike with minimal injury and decapitate the driver. His confidence proved to be his downfall as he completely ignored the gunner on the bike in favour of tossing a gun to Ashley. Luke was about to fire, when the girl from inside the truck did a suicidal leap on to the bike, and managed to take it out after a fluke stab of her machete. Everyone's going for the 'Most Fucked Up' award today.

Everything seemed to stop instantly. The fighting, the shooting, the yelling, just everything seemed gone. Luke risked a glance around, and found that the entire area was covered with the bodies of dead bandits plus the one unfortunate person who had been shot by a sniper. Luke carefully lifted his gun up, suddenly feeling the weight of the mighty weapon. His hands sagged down, and his knuckles grew white as the muscles in his hands and fingers refused to let go of the weapon. Luke's face went from the normal pinkish color to dead white, and he rested his back against the rock, slowly sliding down to a sitting position. His mouth gaped open, and his eyes glazed over behind the glasses.

Luke was in complete shock. His mind, without the calming effect of adrenaline, could not comprehend just what exactly he had managed to do. I just killed someone! I killed more than one person! I just killed someone! I killed more than one person! These words echoed in his mind, and even his mouth moved without sound in mimicking these thoughts from within his head. He gripped the gun so hard, it looked like it would shatter, and Luke looked completely displaced from his surroundings. Everything hit him all at once, and he simply couldn't cope with it at the moment.

Words seemed to be entering his ears, but his mind at the moment was not processing them in a logical matter. Something about hurrying, bandaging, and wounds. The gash from his forehead now produced a trail that ended at his chin and produced tiny droplets that littered the sand with the deadly colour of red. The small, rational part of Luke's mind was trying to regain dominance in his head, but it was being forced out by his realisation that he had committed such an act as killing, that it was fighting a losing battle. I'm a murderer, a killer, a sinner, an ender of lives, a beginner of death! So Luke he sat there. Unable to move, unable to think, and unable to cope with the mass amounts of death that was lingering over this small stretch of desert.

[Gunneh]

Anoch watched as the woman disassembled the gun with a fluid ease that most would have found eerily unnerving. Anoch, however, was not one of those people, and simply nodded as she finished her spiel on the here's and there's of the sub-machine gun that he had just handed to her. He spun the scythe once more in his hand before snapping it back into place in the harness that crisscrossed over his back.

"Makes sense," he replied. He looked around at all of the travellers that were suddenly coming out of the proverbial woodwork all around them, and he felt his heart start to pound: It had been a very long time since he'd allowed himself to be surrounded by so many different people at one time. He cleared his throat and stepped past the woman as she said something about using the meds she'd brought with her.

"Don't need'em," he replied softly, the pain from the damage he'd taken during the gun fight already starting to hit him like a brick. "I've taken enough bullets in my time out here that a few more won't exactly hurt anything." Still, his left shoulder and thigh were throbbing hard and sending waves of pain throughout his entire body. He leaned against the rock face and sighed quietly, his eyes focused intently on the ground.

"Your friend might need some seeing to, though. Looks like you might've broke'im."

[The Melancholy Spirit]

Everything seemed to be over before he had even managed to reach her. Someone else was beseeching his attention before he could help her however, referring to him in much the same way she had. Osiris turned to regard her and listen to what she had to say. Before responding he turned back to the other girl, torn between who to help first. Both seemed like the type to cause him trouble if he aided the other.

“Of course I know how to run one…” he muttered under his breath, staring at the sand underfoot. “Sweat, bullets, blood, and drama. This is turning into a lovely adventure. Yet somehow it beats trying to dodge slavers and drug traffickers…”

He shook his head and turned back away from the girl who had been inside the truck with him. He tried not to think of the rage that she would likely direct at him for abandoning her later. Not that he was really abandoning her, per se. His instincts told him she wasn’t the sort of woman to cross; tiny explosive, big explosion.

“Yeah, I can drive,” he said to the other woman when he reached her. He looked at the unconscious man and exhaled deeply, running an arm across his forehead. “Personally I say just leave him though, unneeded burden.”

Examining the condition of the bike he smirked. “If I drop him we’ll likely all match…” He didn't bother looking at her to see if she understood exactly what he meant.

[Shadow Moonseye]

Nimble fingers danced at a break neck pace, tearing several strips of bandage off the roll and folding them into a thick pad. Adrenaline was slowly receding, leaving in its wake the dull burn of her wounded shoulder. The blood flow was already slowing, the nanobots coursing through her body setting to work repairing the damage, but it didn’t matter. She could still leave a blood trail, could still be tracked. Bandaging the wound would provide a simple solution. Setting the pad against the wound, she reached out with her free hand and snatched up the medical tape. Using her teeth she tore off a few pieces--enough to secure her bandage. The native stepped past her, but made no move to bandage himself.

“Don’t need ‘em.” His voice had a slight edge to it, one she guessed had to do with his wounds. “I’ve taken enough bullets in my time out here that a few more won’t exactly hurt anything.”

A frown etched itself deep into her face and she looked over to the man, opening her mouth to speak. The native’s next words snapped her mouth shut: “Your friend might need some seeing to, though. Looks like you might’ve broke‘im.”

708’s gaze snapped over to Luke. He was sitting at the base of the rock, clutching his rifle in a death grip. His mouth moved, but no words were spoken. He looked pale, the crimson trail sliding down his face standing out in stark contrast against his skin. She dropped to a knee in front of the comatose man and snapped her fingers twice. His mouth continued to work, his hands remained locked around the rifle, and he stared straight through her.

“Shock.” She muttered. She’d seen it many times before; usually in the other numbers, but there was a solider or scientist that slipped into it after a test. The severity varied from individual to individual. Sometimes the person could be snapped out of it, but often they had to come out of it on their own terms.

I don’t want to have to haul him around if I can avoid it. Leave him. No. He could be captured and be used to find me. He knows where this group is heading, knows what I’m searching for. Her frown deepened. Slap might snap his neck. Water could bring him around.

Her hand shot out, but her eyes remained fixed on Luke. “Give me your water. I can smell it on you, it could help him come to.” A moment later she felt the weight of a water skin in her hand. She opened it and with a precise movement emptied the contents over Luke’s head. She shot a quick glance at the native, giving a quick nod of thanks. “Now patch those wounds. You’ll leave a blood trail so clear a child could track us.”

Her tone offered no room for argument or compromise. She fixed him with a last look before turning her attention back to Luke. If he was going to come back from the water, it would be now.

[Guilty Carrion]

Pushing herself out of the dust, Eve coughed roughly as micro flares of pain bloomed across her body. Her skin stung and burned, leaving her to conclude that she had a nasty case of road rash. Clutching her battered stomach, which felt like a tender bruise would soon be forming, she rose to her feet. “Any part of me not hurting right now? No? Didn’t fucking think so.” With a muffled swear, her eyes locked on Limper, and she approached the turncoat as quickly as her aching form would allow. Tender fingers grabbed his collar, and she glared darkly in his eyes.

“Fine. Help the dominatrix and her boy-toy. But as soon as we’re at Kel’s you’re helping me get these fucking dealt with, understood?” She gave him a rough shake to emphasize her point, before shooting a glance up at the woman. “Limper’s got a point. Should drop this moron’s ass on the road.” She smiled in a dark manner, before shifting her gaze back to the dreaded man. “I hope you’ve got gentle fucking hands.” She left no room for compromise or debate, storming off towards the others, wincing with every step. “I’ve got rash on my bloody tits, for the Christ’s sake!”

She slipped into the main group, roughly pushing her way through so she could see what they were all so intently looking at. When the young man came into view, she frowned. “What? Did you break him or something?” Squatting next to the Amazon women, she prodded the side of his face with a finger, ignoring the small twinge that raced up the injured skin. “Damm. You broke him bad.” Bouncing back up to her feet, she stole a glance at the monstrous newcomer. A cold shiver ran down her back, and for a split second, she was glad that the Amazon stood between her and the masked mountain.

“Hopefully he picks himself up here quick…I’d rather get to the outpost without anymore injuries.” The shade from the ridge was a welcome relief, and she closed her eyes for a moment of silent peace. “I’m not built for this shit like you two.”

[The Melancholy Spirit]

The sensation of a hand on his collar as the force pulled him in a near one-eighty came suddenly, though he had to tell himself it wasn’t exactly unexpected. He arched a brow at the woman. These…? Help with these? What the-

As she turned and stalked off, moments after commenting that he’d better have gentle hands, he caught the last few words following by a religious blasphemy. He smirked, chuckling slightly to himself. A moment later he looked down at his open hands and quirked his face to an angle. His eyes looked up to the woman still beside him, on the other side of the bike.

“Gentle hands or not, this climate is hell on the skin. By chance would you have any lotion on you?” A look into her eyes and he shook his head. “Never mind.”

Ignoring what was happening with the remaining members of the group; Osiris knelt on his good knee and examined the bike. It already wasn’t in the best condition. He frowned, not liking the idea of having to force the machine to carry three people all the way to the outpost. However far that actually was.

“Paradise…” he murmured. “Place is about as much a paradise as the infected goods of a harlot.” He stood up, tilting his head to the side. “Eh, then again certain spacers would actually consider that paradise…”

[wakeangel]

"Leaving his ass to rot was my first inclination too," she nodded companionably, driving down the oddest surge of anger at their pragmatism. She gave her new driver kudos for his aplomb. He was certainly a lot calmer than his cranky companion. "Unfortunately, he has something I want, and if he dies, I don't get it. I make a habit of getting what I want, so he stays right where he is."

She grinned as he retracted his request for lotion. She had some, but if he no longer wanted to borrow it was that her problem? She waited impatiently as he examined the bike, arching an eyebrow at his reference to prostitutes. "Nice. I might just quote you on that, Dreds.

"Shall we?" Once his inspection was finished, she nodded towards the bike, eager for him to get on so they could hit the road. "It's not great, but it should get us at least to the garage. Hell, you can keep it after that for all I care, or sell it and buy yourself some lotion."

Between Alex's fat ass, Dred's and the fact that the bike was built for two, very little room was left for her. If he punched it while driving, she'd come right off the back end. As she balanced herself on the thin strip of seat left, Dae teased him, hopefully loud enough for the retreating spitfire to hear.

"I think your girlfriend's jealous. Don't worry lover," her playful tone seemed to imply she was just being a snot and not serious...maybe. "I'll take good care of you."

Wrapping one arm loosely around his waist for balance, she rested her pistol openly on her thigh, leaving the driving to him as she began scanning around them for any further signs of trouble. The others seemed to be working themselves up towards movement and impatience surged up in her to get moving. Every second these yahoos wasted brought Alex's death and a complete shit storm for her father and Mingus Munitions one step closer.

[quakernuts]

Luke had been sitting there for an amount of time that was lost to him. Seconds, minutes, and hours had no meaning to him as his mind simply kept flashing back to the battle that had just happened, the blood that had been spilt, and the lives that had been ended. He had acted in self defence, he knew that. However, his rational mind wasn't in control at the moment, and as his skin continued to lose colour it became obviously apparent. Someone was in front of him, but for some reason it was like he was blind. He could hear muffled voices who could be speaking in another language for all it mattered. Whatever was happening, he was currently trapped inside his own body.

Suddenly, something hit his face like a brick. His vision blurred even more than what he thought was possible before finally refocusing. Ashley was crouching over him, staring him intently in the eyes. What had actually hit him was water, but for some reason it burned when it poured down his face. Must be the after-reaction to the shock I was just in. Luke thought this to himself as he struggled to shake off the last bit of shock that was left in his system. He hands slowly unclenched his rifle, and his breathing slowed down. He slowly brought a shaking hand up to his face to wipe away the water, and the burning stopped. He took a deep breath, and refocused all his energy on just staying calm.

"I'm ok...I'm ok." Luke tried to convince everyone, even himself, of those words. Ashley didn't seem too convinced, but he reassured everyone by using the rock to prop himself up to standing height. He still felt a little dizzy, after shock most likely, but steadied himself on the rock. He suddenly became painfully aware that he was the center of attention, and he didn't like it. Giant guy was watching him, Ashley was watching him, and the not-to-shy girl was watching him. He looked down at the ground, trying to hide the color coming strongly onto his cheeks. "Yeah...I'm fine...really." It wasn't until the blood dropped from his chin onto the ground that he remembered that he had been nearly shot.

The very thought of that moment nearly put him in shock again, but another deep breath and closing his eyes for a second kept him mere inches from returning to that spot. He wiped the blood from his face quickly, and looked up at the others. He didn't think the wound was serious enough to warrant a bandaging up, nor did he want to appear like a pansy asking for a band-aid. Looking each of them in the eye, his rifle hanging limply by his side now, he suddenly felt a renewed sense of purpose. He had survived his first life or death encounter, and it gave him hope of seeing this thing through to the end. Looking to Ashley, he held her eyes to make sure she knew he was alright.

"I'm ready to go when you are."

[Gunneh]

“Now patch those wounds. You’ll leave a blood trail so clear a child could track us.”

Was she talking to him again? She must have been: The female with the purple hair was screaming about rashes and tits, the male with the limp was too focused on the purple haired female and the other male and female pair, the blonde's male friend was trying to reassure everyone of his status and the blonde was...well...looking at him, for the most part. With a grunt of acknowledgement, Anoch pulled the mask off and dropped it to the sand, now full assessing his wounds.

Shoulder caught the worst of it, he thought before looking down to his thigh. Nothing too terrible bad, but sure'nuff to slow me down.

He snatched the bandages quickly and wrapped his shoulder tightly enough to where he winced as the throbbing increased and, thusly, sent more waves of pain crashing through his mind. Next came the QuikSeal, which he used sparingly on the wounds on his thigh and chest, trying to make sure that there was enough to go around. Finally, he stood and looked to the blonde once more.

"I'mma take off," he said sternly. "I don't believe y'all are gonna hear from those bandits anytime tonight."

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