Voodoo - Valley Forge

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

A compass bearing that's inaccurate due to some unknown degree of progression of the magnetic poles is a nasty, nasty thing, and no use to anyone as a navigational aid. Roads, on the other hand, tend not to change that much over time. It was never a major highway, and it's mostly crumbled now, so it didn't attract much in the way of attention from raiders or other unsavory types, but the best map our band of heroes has of the region eventually pointed them towards a state road that ran straight towards the Schuykill River. Assuming the river was still there, of course, it would lead them straight to Philadelphia, and other navigational issues could be resolved there.

Well, if they were lucky, anyway.

There's some burnt out buildings up ahead, nothing really new on that front, and a bunch of trees that have seen much, much better days. Again, nothing new there. On the wind, there's a whiff of cow- not beef cooking over a fire, but the rather more pungent odor of living cattle.

Comments

[boston_bruiser]

Oh, Voodoo can tell. One of them has wandered away from the herd and found a place to graze in a meadow about 500 meters out.

"Steak for breakfast. Who's hungry?"

The thing about a Southie upbringing is he has no clue whether to aim for the head or the heart, or where the heart is to begin with. As a result, his crosshair wobbles a bit more than it should.

(Sergeant-Major Shephard, if you're reading this, one squid could just about use your raggedy-ass hillbilly skills right now.)

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

One of the heads is in the process of tearing the ends of a couple of branches off a low, scrubby bush. The other, as is common with Brahmin, is scanning the area for possible danger or trouble.

Oh look. Humans. Humans aren't trouble, are they?

"Need a backup?" Al whispers. "I can get a pretty good bead on its midsection..."

[boston_bruiser]

"Sure."

He's settled for a place where he's pretty sure at least one set of lungs is, if not the heart. The full-metal jackets will perforate instead of mushrooming inside - it'll be a cleaner kill, with no bullet to worry about in the meat, but he'll need to be precise with his shot placement.

"Fire on my lead."



BANG.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

BANG.

The animal lets out a pair of horribly startled moos and tries to flee the scene. It doesn't get far. One of the hits was through the liver, but the other one was a good clean lung shot, and breaking into a run tends to result in a lot more blood being pumped into the lungs pretty quickly. Bottom line is, about fifty meters after it started running, it goes down hard and fast.

"Better get that thing cut up quick," mutters Josepha. "I hear dogs barking. We don't want scavengers."

[boston_bruiser]

"No, we don't. Let's get out there, double-time."

It's surprising how fast you can cover five football fields of length when there's a fresh meal at the end of it and you haven't eaten in two days.

"Kate, Josepha, set security." He unsheathes his tomahawk, taking a knee by the fallen brahmin. "Al, Hector, help me clean this thing."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Will do," the women promise.

Al and Hector come forward with their own knives. "Wonder where the rest of the herd is," says the older man. "You don't see these things alone too often."

"I don't know that it matters, Hector," says Al. "We're not going to be here long enough. This thing's got a lot of meat on-" He leans over to get a better look at its rear end. "-him."

(It may be worth noting that an examination of the Brahmin's anatomy will reveal that it is a bull, rather than a steer. As a matter of fact, if Voodoo is familiar at all with standard bovine anatomy- and we know that's a stretch- in one regard it gives the impression of being two bulls.)

[boston_bruiser]

(He's as familiar with it as he needs to be - as in, he knows what kinds of cuts make what kinds of steak, but that's the extent of it.)

It's a quick thing to verify Al's assumption of this one's sex.

"Good. Oughta have more muscle on it, then."

The muscle on this one is tough, but his tomahawk is sharp enough. He starts with a cut just behind the shoulder blade, taking it down to the belly.

"Take anything we can eat. Doesn't have to be muscle."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Not a problem," says Al, and starts working at the animal's back just ahead of the pelvis; Hector, for his part, is going after the necks at the root. "At this point I'm about ready to boil and eat the skin, frankly."

Brahmin hide's pretty tough and thick, so that might not be the simplest option. On the other hand Voodoo does get through the muscle layer reasonably quickly, so it's not going to be long before the ribs are visible.

"Might want to pick up the pace a little," reports Josepha after the first few cuts of muscle meat come off the bone. "I can't make out the details, but there's something that looks human coming this way. I saw red and blue in the distance. Just one, though."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo looks up, squinting. He can't make out much in the way of detail either, besides the color.

"You heard her, guys," Voodoo says. "Hustle it up."

His cuts are quicker now, foregoing lesser parts and offal for the prime meat.

"Josepha? How close is it?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Five to ten minutes away, at the rate it's moving," Josepha reports after some peering. "Too far for me to see what they're armed with."

Of course whoever it is is armed. Don't be stupid.

[boston_bruiser]

With one hand, Voodoo takes his binos off his pack and hands them to her, continuing to cut away at the bull with his tomahawk.

"Probably drawn by the gunfire," he mutters to himself, putting away another slab of meat. "Christ, but I wish I still had my suppressor."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Thanks," Josepha murmurs, and turns to find the advancing figure. After a long, silent look, she hands the binoculars to Kate and says, "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

Kate, for her part, fumbles with the binos for a bit before finally answering, "I'm... not sure? I mean, he's... carrying some kind of a sign or something..."

[boston_bruiser]

"-is this one'a those 'seeing is believing' things?"

He takes another cut of meat from the flank.

"'cause I gotta tell you, my hands are kinda full for somethin' like that."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"One man," says Kate, "wearing blue and white combat armor, and sunglasses, and an old helmet, carrying some kind of red and blue sign like it was some kind of protection in one hand and a submachine gun in the other."

"That'd be what I saw," says Josepha.

[boston_bruiser]

-okay, that actually gives him pause.

He put the tomahawk where Al and Hector can get at it before moving over to Kate, taking the binoculars from her and centering them on the man. The submachine gun looks to be an M1A1 Thompson, and the sign has been filched from the remains of Interstate 76.

"The fuck's this idiot think he's doing?"

He shakes his head, stowing the binos on his pack again. "Hector, Al, cut what you can in the next minute then hide. Kate, guard the carcass, Josepha, you're with me. We're gonna go see what this retard wants."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Josepha nods and reaches over her shoulder for her assault rifle. "At least he doesn't look spiky," she offers.

It's not like you can really say at least he looks safe or at least he doesn't look insane about fellow-travelers in this part of the world.

[boston_bruiser]

"Yeah, there's that."

Patience (god, is he actually calling it that now?) is slung over his shoulder in favor of his carbine held at low-ready. The two of them don't march in lockstep, but stay close enough to cover each other as they move forward. The man is more cautious in his approach - his is a casual walk, but he makes an effort to keep bushes between himself and Voodoo and Josepha, as well as presenting the side with the shield rather than coming at them head-on.

"I don't fuckin' believe this. Hey! Star-Spangled Beavis! You can chill out, we just wanna talk!"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The man stills, road-sign shield up despite the bush he's managed to place between himself and the new arrivals. "Maybe," he answers; his voice is low and raspy, but it carries. "Maybe. Who's doing the talking?"

[boston_bruiser]

-well, with a guy this nutty, the pre-War song and dance might just work.

"PO1 Colson, United States Navy. Serial number one-one-four-zero-two-two-five-four-one. This's Josepha."

He makes a gesture to the effect of well? Good enough?

"You want me to sing 'Anchors Aweigh'? 'cause I can."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Stare. Staaaaaaaaaare.

"Well, I'll be damned," the man finally says, and lowers his shield- even if only a little. "Aaron Adams. Last of the Eastern Commonwealth National Guardsmen. Were those your guns I heard?"

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo gives Josepha a look that translates - roughly - to can you believe I have to deal with this shit?

"They were. That a problem?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Not unless you shot one of the Forgers," says Adams. "They're not in this part of the Reserve just now, but you never can tell with the young folk."

[boston_bruiser]

"Roving brahmin bull. My people haven't eaten in two days. 's gotta be fixed."

He lets his carbine take up slack in its sling.

"You got other people here?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"If there was nobody guarding it, you're probably fine," says Adams. "The Forgers keep a close eye on their cattle. This is their territory- everything in Valley Forge Park, both sides of the river."

[boston_bruiser]

"Valley Forge? Y'don't say."

It's not like he pictured it, but then again he's never been.

"Where in the park are we right now?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Western edge," says Adams. "The old interstate's several miles south of here, and the Schuykill's about half an hour's march north. There's an old statue of one of the ancient generals along this road; the Forgers don't take kindly to von Steuben being disturbed, even if they don't remember who he was."

[boston_bruiser]

"The Baron himself, huh? No shit."

He crosses his arms over his chest.

"Lookin' to get to Philly, head down to D.C. from there. What do we need to know?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Oo. Busy place, Philly," says Adams. "You're going to want to check in with the Blood Prince, assuming one of his patrols doesn't meet you at the border first. Word of advice- don't give him a hard time. His people aren't the only ice gang in the city, and he's been holding onto his position for a good fifteen or twenty years now despite the competition."

[boston_bruiser]

"-ice gangs."

His tone of voice says go on.

"This Blood Prince - he a local warlord or what?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Well, he's the ruler of Philly," says Adams. "So, yes; I suppose warlord's a fair enough thing to call him. Although in all honesty he hasn't shown much of an interest in overrunning his neighbors, or he'd have been banging down the Forgers' doors years ago. Every so often you see caravans with his colors heading west from the city. The last time anyone tried to interfere with one of them, he burnt Newtown to the ground."

[boston_bruiser]

"-quite a reach he's got."

He looks to Josepha, then back to Adams.

"He gonna cause problems for us if we don't cause problems for him?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"You don't hold the city title as long as he has by letting people get away with things," says Adams soberly. "As long as you make yourselves known when you get to the city and don't give him or the Friends problems, you should be fine. I don't know much about them, except that they have a stranglehold on safe water in the city."

[boston_bruiser]

'Should be'. It's not will, but Voodoo's in no position to be picky.

"That'll do it."

The mystery of how Quakers survived in a post-nuclear world will be left for later.

"Speakin' of water, I wanna top off our canteens while we can. Any safe water here?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"The Schuykill's almost drinkable hereabouts," says Adams. "I'd boil it first if I were you. And pop a Rad-X if you've got any, just in case. It's not as bad as it gets downstream, but it's best not to take chances."

[boston_bruiser]

"We were planning on hitting it up sooner or later. Might as well make it sooner."

He turns around, gesturing for Josepha to follow as he heads back towards the others. "Bull's at the top of this hill. Help yourself to whatever we didn't, if you want."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Much obliged, Mr. Colson," says Adams. "What I don't need, I'll make sure the Forgers get. Good luck on the rest of your journey."

[boston_bruiser]

"Yeah, you too."

He waits until Adams is out of earshot - they did just meet him, after all.

"We'll head north, make camp on the riverbank," he says to Josepha. "Can't be more than a mile, maybe two. I'll set security, and we'll cook what meat we can, try and find some way to preserve the rest. If we're lucky, we'll find some salt. I want everyone hydrated and rested - everyone finishes off at least one canteen of riverwater 'fore fillin' it back up. That goes double for Hector. If he starts gettin' stubborn about it, I want you and Al to square him away. Clear?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Josepha nods. "Clear," she says. "I have to say, it'll be good to have hot food again. I mean, any food's good, but...."

[boston_bruiser]

A grunt from Voodoo. "I know the feeling."

He jerks a thumb back towards Adams as discreetly as possible. "What do you make of him?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"A little odd, but he seemed pretty helpful," says Josepha. "If he was crazy, at least it wasn't the kind of crazy that gets people stabbed."

[boston_bruiser]

"That's what I was thinkin'. Eccentric, not malicious. Still, better keep movin'."

It's a short walk to the rest of the group. "Pack it up," Voodoo orders. "We're heading to the river. Gonna make camp, cook this meat, fill our canteens, rest a little, then follow it into Philly. I want to be past the outskirts by late afternoon and downtown by nightfall. Kate, you're on point - the rest of you know the drill."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Sounds good to me," says Al. "The sooner we're back to civilization, the better."

"What was with that guy, anyway?" Kate says.

[boston_bruiser]

"'Last of the Eastern Commonwealth National Guardsmen'. So a nut - but not a vicious nut."

As they pack up: "One other thing - local warlord of Philly's some mope called 'the Blood Prince'. Sends supply caravans through the park on occasion. Right now, he's an unknown, so we don't wanna go pissing him off 'less we have to. Fire when fired upon, got it?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

They're all looking at Hector.

"What? .. okay, fine."