Warning Shot
Jan. 1st, 2013 11:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aaaaaaaagh_skyThere's this building. Big one. Western Pen, they call it. Real old school, real classy- stone, not concrete. Walls thick as hell. Steel bars on the windows, double rows of steel fencing, barbed wire that'd tear a man in half, you name it. Used to be a prison or something, back before the war. Best goddamn fortress a man could ever want, these days. You'd need missiles and mini-nukes to get in there, the walls're that thick.
'Course, you'd have to get in range first. That's the problem. See, Western Pen's on the other side of the river from the Pitt proper. You want to get in, you got to get across the Ohio, and it ain't easy. No bridges these days. You got to go a good five or ten miles up or down stream to find a way across, and that's if you're lucky. Sane people don't try. Problem is, the Pitt's got kind of a surplus of insane people, and a whole lot of 'em made the move a long time ago. Ashur might be Lord of the Pitt, but he ain't Lord of the Western Pen, and that's because he knows better than to try throwing his boys at the place. The crazies who live there're worse than trogs. They're the ones that saw the Brotherhood coming thirty years ago and got the hell out of the way, and they're dug in good and hard and deep. Nobody's going near the Western Pen. Ashur's orders. One day, maybe. When he's got the army big enough. When they've got enough guns. When-
Hey. The northwest sky. It don't usually get that bright this time of afternoon, does it?
fsssssshooooom....
CRACK
The hell. The fucking hell. What was that?
One order from Ashur and about ten or so miles of detouring up and down the river later, you've got your answer. Western Pen... it ain't there no more. Real nice smoking crater where it used to be, though. All twelve acres of it.
'Course, you'd have to get in range first. That's the problem. See, Western Pen's on the other side of the river from the Pitt proper. You want to get in, you got to get across the Ohio, and it ain't easy. No bridges these days. You got to go a good five or ten miles up or down stream to find a way across, and that's if you're lucky. Sane people don't try. Problem is, the Pitt's got kind of a surplus of insane people, and a whole lot of 'em made the move a long time ago. Ashur might be Lord of the Pitt, but he ain't Lord of the Western Pen, and that's because he knows better than to try throwing his boys at the place. The crazies who live there're worse than trogs. They're the ones that saw the Brotherhood coming thirty years ago and got the hell out of the way, and they're dug in good and hard and deep. Nobody's going near the Western Pen. Ashur's orders. One day, maybe. When he's got the army big enough. When they've got enough guns. When-
Hey. The northwest sky. It don't usually get that bright this time of afternoon, does it?
fsssssshooooom....
CRACK
The hell. The fucking hell. What was that?
One order from Ashur and about ten or so miles of detouring up and down the river later, you've got your answer. Western Pen... it ain't there no more. Real nice smoking crater where it used to be, though. All twelve acres of it.