Voodoo - Serendipity

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Philly is, as post-apocalyptic metropoli go, a well-maintained and well-patrolled city. This is not a difficult standard to reach, however, and it tends to fall art in the face of overwhelming wildlife.

Hippos are pretty damn overwhelming. And they've apparently been sighted all over the southern roads out of the city heading towards DC.

One of the older market folks, a gray-haired woman with a face like badly preserved leather, has indicated that the easiest way to avoid the hippos is to head north into the city a ways and make for the northeast part of town. There's apparently a southbound road that swings around the worst of the hippo area and doesn't cost too much travel time by comparison.

Comments

[boston_bruiser]

And Voodoo opts to take it. Why waste ammunition you don't have to going through the worst part of town?

The quarter they're in right now is fairly deserted - what used to be skyscrapers and what are now half-crumbled sniper's nests surround them as they make their way to the road. The only sound is that of their boots crushing debris and detritus underneath.

"Spread it out. Don't want a single frag mine takin' us all out."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Don't have to tell me twice," mutters Hector. "Think it's gonna look like this when we get to DC?"

[boston_bruiser]

"More or less. Basically, don't get your hopes up."

Up ahead is what used to be a traffic circle, before the war and the decay. The cars here have long since become rusted-out hulks - though from the looks of it, some enterprising citizens have salvaged tires and rubber from the windshield wipers.

Voodoo points to a line of adjoining storefronts. "We'll cut through there, keep out of the street."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"The further we stay from the old cars, the better," mutters Josepha. "I've heard stories about how some of those things explode. I don't want to be here when one does."

"Doesn't look like the engine blocks are still intact enough for that to be a problem," notes Al.

"I don't care."

[boston_bruiser]

"Best not to assume."

It's a quick little jog through a donut shop, what used to be a fast food join, and then a bodega before they come to a T intersection. Voodoo points down the long end of the T.

"Down this street. Hug the walls, watch the windows and doors."

He glances over his shoulder. "Everyone good so far?"

Without waiting for a response:

"Al, Kate, how's our six?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"There's something moving about two buildings down, but it hasn't picked up our trail yet," reports Kate as she peers back through the shadows. "Doesn't look human. We should probably pick up the pace."

[boston_bruiser]

-well that ain't good.

"Kill it if it needs killin'."

And with that, Voodoo jogs out of the bodega's side, slowing to a quick walk as he puts his carbine's butt to his shoulder, the barrel still pointed in a down-ish direction. Got to have a compromise between diplomacy and readiness, after all. Every window and doorway gets as thorough a checking as a few milliseconds will allow before he continues on his way, knees bent and ready to hit the deck if need be.

"Clear so far. Double-time it."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"I'm not hearing feet," says Kate as she jogs up, casting glances over her shoulder. "But there's definitely something-"

"Get down!"

Whether it's Al or Hector is unclear. It probably doesn't matter either way. Something just fired a bolt of green plasma their way.

[boston_bruiser]

Good thing Voodoo's reflexes are the way they are - as it stands, the bolt nearly singes his ear.

"Holy fuck-"

He drops to the ground and rolls into a storefront, firing off four quick shots at the robot as he crouches in the doorway.

"Kill that fuckin' thing!"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"You'd better run, you commie-lovin' bastard!" roars the machine as it returns bullet fire with more plasma. "There's nothing I like better than making some other poor bastard die for his country!""

"Is that thing for real?" Hector wonders. "Grenade time?"

[boston_bruiser]

"Fuck yes, grenade time."

He's pretty sure, but a quick patdown of his rig reveals that yes, indeed, he's out of frags.

"You throw, I'll cover. Make it count."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Hector nods grimly and readies his frag; he's fast enough to get a second out in a hurry if he has to, but this is not a pitch you want to fail at. "On three," he says. "One, two-"

He'd get in trouble for his lack of follow-through on the pitch, but he really did have to drop in a hurry to avoid the plasma fire, and he'd thrown the thing anyway.

[boston_bruiser]

"There's nothing better than the smell of fresh plas-"

The frag's explosion rocks the robot, and Voodoo pivots out the doorway as it's stunned, pumping round after round into the housing. Bless the full-metal jackets - they go right through the armor and into the guts of the thing, and soon it's down, twitching on the ground like a felled doe.

"-tell my m-m-m-m-omma I did my beeees-"

There's a soft POP, and it stills.

Voodoo exhales, wiping the sweat from his eyes. "Sound off. Everyone good?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Fine down here," reports Hector from the ground.

"I'm all right," says Josepha, who took cover behind a waist-height wall of brick in order to fire on the thing.

"I think it winged me, but not enough to do more than burn a little," says Kate.

"I'm all right," says Al, "but I'm seeing what I really hope is people coming our way..."

[boston_bruiser]

It's not hard to see what Al's talking about - two gray blobs off in the distance that become recognizable suits of power armor when viewed through the binos. There isn't much in the way of power armor in the Wastes to go around to begin with - and unless he's seriously out of the loop, the Brotherhood doesn't have a chapter this far north.

"-the fuck-"

He takes the binos from his eyes, then looks through them again. There's no mistaking it, not with those insignia on the pauldrons - they're Brotherhood.

"Hold fire, those're friendlies. -willin' to bet on it, anyway."

Voodoo reloads more out of a force of habit than anything, and tucks the used magazine in his vest.

"Just be cool."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The two armored figures have the look of people accustomed to search missions; they're sweeping their end of the street and the nearby buildings with equal measures of efficiency and caution. About halfway down what used to be their current block one of them stops and holds up a fist, then points towards the building where Voodoo and company are waiting. The other looks, shifts its grip on its gun, and calls out, "Hail. Who goes there?"

[boston_bruiser]

And Voodoo, in turn, grips his carbine by the foregrip and raises it one-handed above his head. No need to make these guys nervous.

"Just some people heading for D.C. Got pointed down this road."

He lets his arm down, the weapon hanging loosely at his side.

"Where's the rest of your unit?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The armored soldiers glance at each other before turning back to Voodoo. "You're a long way from the Capital, friend," says the one who spoke before. "Our unit's camped not far away. We were patrolling and heard the plasma fire. This part of town's heavy with robots."

[boston_bruiser]

There's a couple of ways to make Voodoo look at you like you're an asshole. Playing Captain Obvious is one of them.

As flat as can be:

"Y'don't say."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"More than just the one," notes the other soldier, equally flatly. "We're within a hair's breadth of the old General Atomics plant. The locals consider the place a reliable method of suicide. Unfortunately, we were sent from the Citadel to scout the grounds."

[boston_bruiser]

A half-shrug. "Bummer, pal."

He shifts his hand to the pistol grip, letting the carbine hang as his other hand rests on his hip.

"Lookin' for Paladin 101. She still stationed out of the Citadel?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Not just at the moment," says the one on the left, with a trace more humor to his staticky voice than before. "But we may be able to get a message through regardless. Can I ask what it is you want with her?"

[boston_bruiser]

"I'm one of her mole-people. Got locked outta the mole-people locker. Hoping she can set things right."

As a pre-emptive measure against Looks from Josepha, Hector, Al, and Kate:

"Long story. Half'a it's a joke. Don't mind it."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The armored figures glance at each other a moment, even as the Looks are cut off at the knees. Eventually the one on the left says, "If you'll come with us back to camp, I believe we can get your message straight to her without trouble. And you'll run less risk of another robot attack."

[boston_bruiser]

"Lead the-"

It's the phrasing that makes him double-take.

"-the fuck? She's here?"