Springvale

Mar. 18th, 2009 09:11 pm
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The door that Ellen used to get to Milliways wasn't in Megaton this time. Bringing Annabelle and Demyx had caused enough questions from the people in town. Bringing Mr. Mills through would just have let the flood loose. She opted instead to buy another set of combat armor from Moira, one more appropriately sized for a larger person, and traded her last few caps for extra ammo and supplies. Then she made for the Springvale ruins, found a house with a door still hanging from the frame, and opened it.

The scene that'll greet Bryan Mills is one of old, old ruin. There were houses here once; all that remain are splintery blackened pieces of wall and heaps of rubble. There are cars, rusted-out hulks lurched across the grey, broken remains of the places where roads had been. And there's Ellen, waiting on the other side with that bundle of armor and supplies. "Welcome to Springvale," she says a little nervously. "Thank you."
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Date: 2009-03-19 01:28 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] particularskill.livejournal.com
"You're welcome. And thanks for having me." Mills eyes the surroundings with little consternation. "Reminds me of Kabul."

He's come equipped himself, dressed in black cotton ripstop BDUs, a ballistic vest with a chest plate, an AR 15 slung over his shoulder, and a sawed off shotgun with a pistol grip holstered at his lower back. There's ammo in his pack, as well as a canteen and some rations. He doesn't expect to be a burden on her in anyway.

Date: 2009-03-19 01:45 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] particularskill.livejournal.com
Mills gives her a reassuring smile as he pulls up a velcro flap on his forearm to show her his compass and a watch. He takes up the armor and gives it a hard once over. "Is this resistant to projectiles?"

Date: 2009-03-19 01:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] particularskill.livejournal.com
"I think I'll keep mine, if you don't mind." He unslings his pack and stashes the body armor. "Just in case."

Standing and slinging his pack, his eyes are already moving around their surroundings. "Let's get to some cover, shall we?"

Date: 2009-03-19 02:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] particularskill.livejournal.com
"Walk?" He gives her a smirk, cinching down his straps. "Check your boots and let's move out."

Date: 2009-03-19 02:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] particularskill.livejournal.com
"Lead the way, troop."

He lets her precede him and falls in behind, his gait an easy lope, his eyes always moving for potential threats.

Date: 2009-03-19 02:35 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] particularskill.livejournal.com
Mills takes it easy, not pushing her too hard, keeping a close eye on her as well.

His eyes follow the shadow on the horizon as it rises up. He knew they were headed for DC, he just didn't expect it to be the same DC as his own universe.

"Jesus," he exhales under his breath.

Date: 2009-03-19 02:43 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] particularskill.livejournal.com
Mills unslings his AR-15 and runs with it in his hands. "How far?"

Date: 2009-03-19 02:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] particularskill.livejournal.com
"Right." For some reason, Mills' personal defcon just clicked up a couple of notches. His eyes are scanning every feature of the terrain, the crunch of their boots loud in his ears.

"Hold up," he mutters to Ellen, holding his fist in the air.

This would be a good place for someone to try something, he thinks. He checks the mag on the AR reflexively.

Date: 2009-03-19 03:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] particularskill.livejournal.com
Mills face goes still as he assesses the threat. He has time to shoulder the rifle and get off two short bursts before their enemy is on top of them. One of the men goes down as Mills slings the AR and draws his .45 to squeeze off a shot.

Another goes down as his throat explodes, and then the raiders are on top of them.

Date: 2009-03-19 04:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] particularskill.livejournal.com
Mills will be very proud of her skill and accuracy, just as soon as he's done with the pock-faced maggot with the lead pipe. The arm breaks in three places and the man's scream is cut off abruptly as his airway collapses.

He turns to assist Ellen and sees her standing over the fellow with the smoking crater where his skull was a few moments ago. He nods, his grin sharp and pointed.

"Good work."

Date: 2009-03-19 04:13 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] particularskill.livejournal.com
He approves and does the same with the other corpses. "Looks like you may not need my help after all."

Adrenaline still surges in his system, though you'd think he was at a business meeting for all it shows.

Date: 2009-03-19 04:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] particularskill.livejournal.com
"Team tactics. We can work on that."

He's already making a lesson plan in his head.

"Ellen, look over there."

When she does, there is a horrible crunching noise and the man with the crushed windpipe exhales for the last time.

Date: 2009-03-19 04:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] particularskill.livejournal.com
"Sorry," he mutters. "Let's get moving again. Too long in the open."
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