Voodoo - In the Weeds
Aug. 31st, 2014 08:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
From Salamank to the vicinity of the Long Eighty is about a ninety-mile trip. It's rough territory, but for the first day or so's travels it could've been worse. Yeah, the land out here suffered in the aftermath of the War, but this was never primary or even secondary target territory, so most of what's gone wrong here is the result of black rains and fallout on the wind rather than direct hits and immediate contamination. There's more trouble from the mutated wildlife in the region than anything else, too. The Senecas, it appears, do what they can to keep the local raiders down. Maybe they haven't got the numbers they would've liked, but for the area relatively close to Salamank, they do about as well as anyone could hope.
But that's the first day's travel, and unless Voodoo has caffeine pills or something in that pack of his, it's gonna be at least a two-day trip. And things start getting uglier the closer he gets to the remains of the old highway.
But that's the first day's travel, and unless Voodoo has caffeine pills or something in that pack of his, it's gonna be at least a two-day trip. And things start getting uglier the closer he gets to the remains of the old highway.
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Date: 2014-09-03 02:41 am (UTC)Voodoo moves carefully, sweeping his weapon across windows and doorways as he passes them. They're vacant - looks like the raiders have all hauled ass to retake their merchandise.
"Watch downhill," he mutters. "They don't know what's going on yet, but don't bet on it staying that way."
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Date: 2014-09-03 02:44 am (UTC)Which isn't to say that she isn't taking reasonable precautions and following Voodoo's example with her own shotgun, but she really doesn't look like this is an experience she ever wants to repeat.
(Down the hill there's a sound of breaking glass and crackling flame. Someone got their hands on rags and booze, although from here it's hard to tell which side they were on.)
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Date: 2014-09-03 02:51 am (UTC)The way to the slave house is littered with raider dead. Voodoo stops just shy of the doorway, knocking on the frame.
"Friendlies! Friendlies comin' in!"
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Date: 2014-09-03 02:56 am (UTC)Inside the scene is- well, not as horrific as it could be; Al and his older companion took out the guards straight off, and started handing weapons to the raiders' prisoners as soon as they became available. They couldn't get the collars off, though. Fortunately those haven't exploded yet.
One of the prisoners, who's doing her best to pepper raiders from a distance with a pistol, looks up at the new arrivals. "Hector and Al are both upstairs," she says, "and I think they're gonna need stimpaks."
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Date: 2014-09-03 03:11 am (UTC)Voodoo digs into his pocket and tosses a stimpack to his companion, taking out another one right after. "See to Al. I'll get Hector."
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Date: 2014-09-03 03:19 am (UTC)"Man up and rub some dirt on it!" says Hector. "Those bastards out there can smell weakness."
"He's been like that this whole time," says Al wearily, "and he's just getting worse and worse."
"Worse?" says Hector, doing his best to stuff a rag into one of a pile of discarded bottles he's found despite the fact that one of his arms is really not doing very well just at the moment. "Or better?"
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Date: 2014-09-03 03:30 am (UTC)It's like using an epipen - Voodoo holds the edges of the cut together, then jabs the needle near the wound until the needle is all the way in the red.
"There," Voodoo says, withdrawing the needle, "hold that. Don't die on us yet, you kooky old fuck."
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Date: 2014-09-03 03:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-03 03:36 am (UTC)He snorts, downing a raider who tries to dash for the cover of a sandbag pile.
"Yeah, they ain't gettin' up no more." He beckons with his hand. "Hand me one'a those Molotovs."
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Date: 2014-09-03 03:39 am (UTC)Josepha just shakes her head; she's lined up at the edge of the window, waiting for the chance to fire.
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Date: 2014-09-03 03:49 am (UTC)"HEY, YOU MANGEY FUCKERS! BARBECUE FOR YOU!"
The Molotov soars across the night sky in a long, graceful arc, touching down right in the middle of the group. Not a bad arm for a middie.
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Date: 2014-09-03 03:51 am (UTC)(Well, okay, and the people on the ground floor, but.... let's just say the people on the ground floor are better at using their scavenged weapons at very close range than anything else.)
"Hoo! Lookit 'em burn!"
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Date: 2014-09-03 03:57 am (UTC)The rest of them don't stand a chance, not with all the guns pointed their way. This isn't a battle, this is a mop-up.
It's quiet, once all the raiders are gone. Their bodies litter the ground in every direction - some big, some small, some in-between, but all very, very dead.
"Looks like we're clear. Josepha, run on back to the house and bring that hostage here. Hector, Al, start getting weapons and ammo off the bodies. I'll deal with the bomb collars."
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Date: 2014-09-03 04:01 am (UTC)"Bet you five caps I can strip one of these bastards of all their worldly goods faster than you," says Hector.
"We're supposed to leave their armor on, old man."
"Nearly all their worldly goods, then."
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Date: 2014-09-03 04:07 am (UTC)He starts beckoning collared slaves over, ripping their bomb collars off about as fast as his pliers can manage.
"Help Hector and Al with the weapons and ammo," he instructs them. "You can pick what you want once they're all accounted for. Any disputes, rock-paper-scissors it out."
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Date: 2014-09-03 04:11 am (UTC)That's about the point where Josepha and the shivering ex-hostage come in, so at least somebody isn't getting distracted.
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Date: 2014-09-03 04:19 am (UTC)"Bring 'em here," he shouts back, digging around for a can of paint and a paintbrush. "Line 'em up nice 'n orderly. Got an idea."
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Date: 2014-09-03 04:20 am (UTC)(Al does not look like he wants to be here. Al looks like he would like to lock himself in a Wasteland outhouse for a while. But Al is still trying anyway.)
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Date: 2014-09-03 04:25 am (UTC)Voodoo plunks a suitable can and brush by the entrance, going back over to one of the houses that still has a door and ripping it off its hinges. He hefts it over his shoulder, carrying it back to the slave house and setting it down by the entrance, where Hector has started lining up the corpses.
The paint is crappy homebrewed stuff, but it works well enough for painting RAIDERS - THIS WILL BE YOUR FATE on the door.
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Date: 2014-09-03 04:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-03 04:33 am (UTC)He glances toward Hector and Al. "What'd you guys get off the bodies?"
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Date: 2014-09-03 04:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-03 04:47 am (UTC)Voodoo grunts. "Makes sense."
He glances over to the slaves. "Grab what you want and make a choice: come with me or go your own way. I got a friend with the Brotherhood of Steel, and I'm heading south to D.C. to meet up with her. I can't guarantee your safety, but I can guarantee you this. Anybody who fucks with you? Fucks with me, too. And you all saw what went down here tonight."
He looks over to Hector, Al, and Josepha. "That goes for you guys, too."
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Date: 2014-09-03 01:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-03 10:07 pm (UTC)He taps the forward assist on his carbine. "I'm on point. Al, watch the right, Josepha, watch the left, Hector, bring up the rear, and Kate, stay with Hector. Watch your spacing - we're not out of the woods yet."
He looks toward the rest of the slaves. "The rest of you - good luck."
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