Voodoo - Under Way

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Back before the Great War, if for some reason you wanted to travel from Washington to Las Vegas without taking a plane or a train, you got in the car and you made for the nearest interstate, and you didn't think twice about it until your kids in the back seat started screaming at you to stop at the next hotel with color TV and a pool. But that was then, and this is now, and following the remains of the interstate blindly out of DC will get you eaten by Deathclaws if you're lucky. The safest routes follow older, smaller roads- where roads still exist at all, since DC was a massive strategic target- and they aren't particularly direct. All the direct ones go to places Voodoo and his people really don't want to be.

Fortunately, a few of the old US highways lead to places that weren't completely pounded flat by the Bomb, and some of the old state roads may have fallen to pieces but still make their presence felt, and if you have a compass and an understanding of just how far magnetic North has moved since your own time and enough patience, you can make good use of that to get to places that just might have more humans than horrors.

Comments

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Will do," Al replies. "Beats getting eaten."

(Someone's been having nightmares about Wasteland wildlife lately. Or possibly Wasteland humans. But mostly wildlife.)

[boston_bruiser]

(Eh, it happens to the best of us. Nobody likes post-nuclear wildlife.)

To Aaron: "I'll keep the rest of my people here for now in case the raiders try anything. If these guys are undisciplined as I'm thinkin' they are, the recon ought to be done before sundown. Got anything we can hitch our steer to?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Sure. Old Post Office ought to do it," says Aaron. "Let's just see about- Duffy, what's got into you?"

The taller man's staring out at the path coming down from Cannon Hill, down to the bridge. He doesn't say anything; he just points.

"Hell's bells," mutters Aaron. "What the hell's got hold of your steer there, Voodoo?"