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Dead Men Walking
Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (70,911 Views)
Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
"Ideally we catch up them. We threaten to shoot them if they don't give us Brandon, they comply and we go our separate ways. If they don't then we shoot them and basically hope none of ours get shot. If we don't catch them and they make it to Green River we radio Eli and Jimmy and figure it out from there. If only they were in range we could tell them to block the road ahead of these assholes." Emily lamented.

It wasn't a plan. How much could they plan in this situation though. Hopefully, whatever their reasons were, these people would realise Brandon was more trouble then he was worth and turn him over when they asked. Otherwise this was going to be ugly.
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Make-7-Up-Yours
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Is that so?
"Look man, it's nothing personal. We were only down there looking for a couple of morons that ran away to bring 'em back -- but they must have gone some other direction. And we can't return empty-handed. That's a new rule now. If we just showed up there with nothing interesting, we would not have been in very good shape."

Darren had spent the few minutes 'apologizing' to their new prisoner. The blonde kid had woken up, but wasn't in much of a position to hold a conversation. They had taken the liberty of disarming him, handcuffing his hands behind his back and his feet together, and gagging him with a rag. He was sitting in the middle seat between Mountain Mike and Darren. Both men were watching him closely as Darren continued to create one-sided conversation. Danica rolled her eyes at the display. No amount of 'apologizing' was going to fix any of this. The truth was they were bringing him in as an offering to cover their own asses. It was a harsh system, but it was a system that had so far worked. To sweeten the deal, they had also picked up some canned food from the back of a grocery store; enough to last a whole fraction of a meal. With two hundred people, it took a lot of manpower to keep this operation moving.

"We're almost there." Alicia announced sullenly, interrupting Darren's long-winded monologue.

They had just passed a sign welcoming them to Green River a minute or two ago. They had been on the road for a little less than two hours, and they were finally back in Green River. The sky was already dark and illuminated only by the moon and the spiraling arms of the Milky Way above. The only artificial light for miles was the one from their headlights. The minivan swooped into a tunnel on the freeway, plunging them into almost absolute darkness. As they neared the end, the minivan started slowing down. As they came out on the other end, they were slow enough to come to a nice stop. Several flashlights and headlights instantly flipped on, blinding the crew inside the minivan. It was standard procedure. Though it was hard to see right now, Danica already knew the routine. The lights were coming from two or three guards who were stationed behind a line of cars. Two lines of cars, actually; the front line had an entrance on the left side of the freeway and the second line had an exit on the right side. To pass by, one had to navigate between the rows of cars. If anyone tried to run it, they were mowed down. There were also a couple of snipers nearby, in case of a fire fight. But none of that was happening; the redneck stripe down their car signaled to the guard that they were friendlies. Danica hated the design, but it wasn't a bad idea to have some sort of universal symbol for their vehicles. She just wished it could be something less... trashy.

Thunk thunk thunk.

Alicia rolled down the window. A middle-aged man with a prominent 5 o'clock shadow peeked his head in.

"Pretty late to be coming back for the day." He said.

"We brought back a little provisions. More than we left with." Darren leaned forward and told the man.

"Not bad. That is though? What about the two escapees? Any sign of them?"

"Well, we found this blonde guy." Darren tapped their prisoner on the shoulder. "Never knew Travis and Pablo myself, but this is the only blonde guy I could find. If he ain't really Travis, then at least Cory gets something out of the deal here, right?"

"Like the real sick fuck he is." The man scowled. "But at least things are working now. As long as my wife and kids eat, I'll do whatever I can."

The sad truth was that that was the exact sentiment that most of the people here had. As long as I am eating well and safe, as long as my family is okay, then we can do this. Then again, Danica was no better. She was going along with it just like everyone else was. She had no moral high ground, she was just another tool in the machinations of Green River. But life out there was hard. It was unpredictable. At least here, she was promised three squares a day and a safe place to sleep at night.

"Go ahead and take your car to the lot. I'll radio in to Bethany and let her know you got some provisions coming in for her."

"Cheers." Darren grinned.

Alicia guided the minivan carefully through the blockade. Once they passed through it without complication, they immediately took the first exit off the freeway. The nice thing about the Green River settlement was its accessibility. The Oak Tree Inn was a series of four, long, two story hotel buildings. Within them were enough rooms to house the entire population of the settlement -- even with some people having their own rooms, there were still vacancies. The southernmost of the four buildings also had a diner that had been reconstructed into a pretty good food kitchen. The entire place was pretty out in the open, but they had cut down a lot of the trees in the neighborhood nearby to make a sort of barricade to keep the biters out. Duke had overseen that in the early days and Cory hadn't touched it. It was effective. In theory, the entirety of the wall was to be monitored at all times, but the truth was that it wasn't; it was simply too much wall for the night crew. It kept biters out, but people would be able to vault over it; that was always a concern. But so far, they hadn't experienced any group that bold. And even if they did, Green River had a lot of firepower.

Right now, it was pretty quiet. A few torches gave a mediocre light for the small numbers of people still out and about, either walking around on guard duty, going on a night time walk, or just laying back to check out the stars. Alicia pulled in through the front gate and swiftly parked the car in the large parking lot. A young woman in a heavy coat greeted them, flanked by two others. It was Beth. The group got out of the minivan and exchanged a few pleasantries with the woman, but when she saw their prisoner being led around by Mountain Mike, she abruptly decided she just wanted to get to work on unloading their paltry finds.

"How's the arm, Dani?" Darren asked tentatively.

"Sore as hell, but I'll live. It isn't that deep."

"You should go see Dr. Thompson." He told her. "You don't want it to get infected or anything. She'll have you patched up in a jiff. The three of us can handle this guy, don't worry about it."

Mike shook the now conscious blonde guy, handcuffed and gagged so he couldn't do anything. She couldn't bring herself to look at his face. She didn't want to see the anger or the fear. She would feel responsible for both of them. No, she was responsible for both of them, even if just partly. She didn't want to confront that.

Danica sighed; "Alright. You're taking him to the employee section of Building D, right?"

Building D was what they called the southernmost building with the diner attached. It had a pretty good sized employee area on the first floor of the building. Cory had made it his 'executive space'. People who disappointed him or were picked up for his amusement were often brought into those rooms. Danica had never been there herself, but she had heard some terrifying stories in only the two days he had been in charge. There was even a rumor that those that really pissed him off were added to the dinner menu. She hoped that wasn't true.

"Yeah." Darren said hesitantly. "Cory is probably there too. He'll want a debriefing on our run. Might as well get that part over with."

Yeah, Danica definitely did not want to be there for any of that. She had originally planned on putting her medical attention on the back burner, but now she was starting to see the wisdom behind it. Avoiding Cory... usually a good survival strategy. Why he was even bothering to run this place was beyond her. But nobody really seemed to understand that man.
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
I know so many ways to kill you. You lousy fucks. You fucking scrubs.

None of that was helpful right now though. His hands were literally tied behind his back and whenpeople said they could do something with their hands tied behind their back they definitely exaggerating. He couldn't do shit. He could maybe kick Mike in the nuts and headbutt him on his nose, kick that bitch in the chest, barrel into the motor mouth, ultimately it'd be for nothing. They'd overpower him. Even if they couldn't, they had guns and he didn't. He was fucked.

Brandon amused himself by kicking backwards, hitting Mike hard in the shin as they walked. It'd earn him a punch or maybe a kick in the ass but he was resentful enough not to care. If it weren't for the gag he would be spitting in their eyes. If it weren't for the cuffs he'd have killed them by now or died in the attempt. He didn't care what these people's reasons for this was, he hated them. It reminded him of Wendy's group. Things were simple when he hated them. He could feel that clarity again, it was preferable to the ambivalence of before.

The worst of them was the one called Dani. Wouldn't even meet his eyes. They all walked around with this beaten attitude like this was distasteful to them. They didn't have to do this but their faces made it seem like they felt they did. Weak.

Worse than all of them though was himself. What the fuck was he thinking? How did he get himself into this, and worse what the hell happened to Nolan. Did he get him killed? For a god damned ring? Willow wouldn't give a fuck about a ring if it meant endangering yourself or anybody else.

You idiot...

"Aht ahhen oo uh nnd?" he grunted through the gag in his mouth.

"L oo aek ih uhing ag ow?!" he demanded angrily.

...

"Try the radio again. Maybe their close enough now." Emily suggested as she pulled the van over.

They couldn't go any further tonight. They'd really punched it to get here for the last couple hours but they couldn't get here fast enough. If they were taking Brandon to Green River then he was already there by now. She didn't hold out much hope of reaching Eli and Jimmy, the range on these things was maybe ten miles at best? There was no getting Brandon back just now. Now they had to find somewhere to set up and begin surveillance. Figure out where these people were camped exactly, learn how they get in and out, patrol routes, anything. If Eli could get himself in like he claimed maybe he could get Brandon out too. If they could just contact him.
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Is that so?
The second half of their drive had been noticeable quieter. Sometime during their 'stealth mission', Willow had completely passed out. Her head lulled off to the side with a trail of drool dripping from her lips and onto her shoulder and breasts; her breathing was also a sharp for someone who was sleeping. Nevertheless, she was out like a light and Nolan wasn't complaining. The tension in the air was already thick enough without adding her inane babbling to the mix.

"I'll give it a try." Nolan picked up the radio and pressed the transmit button. "Hey E, we got that food shipment you requested for Cory. Wanna let us know where you are so we can get it to you?"

"We don't have a food shipment." Kelsey furled her brow in confusion after Nolan finished speaking.

"It's a code." Nolan explained with a smirk. "If Eli and Jimmy found a way to sneak into Green River, then a request for food shipments doesn't sound so suspicious."

"Ohhh... that's smart!" Kelsey nodded her approval. "We can talk to him about helping Brandon without anybody else knowing!"

"Exactly!" Nolan rubbed her head.

Kelsey smiled in response to it, but not much else. It was pretty clear she was worried. She really looked up to Brandon and he was gone. Willow was... not much help. She was trying to hide it behind a smile, but Nolan could see through it pretty easily. It didn't help that there was no response yet over the radio either. Nothing but silence.

"Nothing." Nolan frowned and took note of the surroundings.

Even if they weren't more than ten miles away from Green River, they had basins and hills that interrupted any path for radio waves to take. They would need to be either really close to Eli or really high up to get any signals through. And they didn't exactly have time to climb to the top of a basin to hope for a radio signal either. Their only option was to find a way to get closer without putting themselves at risk. It was possible that these guys had lookouts on the pathway leading up to their camp. How could they get past them?

"Hold on, I might have an idea."

Nolan jumped out of the van and jogged over to Antonio's truck, which had pulled up and parked just behind them. He had to talk to Antonio; as it turns out they might have a way they could get close without raising suspicion. It was risky and it was kind of crazy, but it was just crazy enough to work. Green River wouldn't expect it at all.

* * * * *

"Hang on, what's your business with the boss today."

Cory's newly appointed personal guards stood at the entrance to the employee's only section of Building D -- that is to say all of the offices space. Two of his men, both armored in Kevlar and armed with military grade M16 rifles (which Cory seemed to have an affection for). They served as his 'secret police' and in exchange were given special benefits by the boss man himself. They got better food, more food, and were given more leniency and control. Put simply, they were the people willing to sell themselves out for comfort and they used that power to keep everyone else in line.

"We found this guy roaming around in Vernal. He had another guy with him as well." So far it was the truth, but then Darren casually started bending said truth. "Other guy was a Mexican and this guy was a blonde. They matched the description of the escapees from this morning. I know Cory wanted them both alive if possible, but the other one didn't survive the shootout. They had gotten armed somewhere along the way."

The guards exhaled roughly and looked at each other. They then looked over the blonde guy that Darren and the others had brought in, still cuffed and gagged.

"What about these weapons then? Where are they now?"

Darren froze -- he hadn't considered the fate of the weapons. They were supposed to bring in any spare weapons found to be incorporated into the armory and handed out as necessary.

"Lost." Mike jumped in and saved him. "The gunfire attracted a small horde and we could not retrieve the weapons of the other man. All this one had on him was a fancy machete."

"A kukri." Darren interjected.

"A what?"

"The fancy machete. It's called a kukri. We got them right here."

Alicia reached into her bag and withdrew the kukri, offering it to the guards. The second guard accepted the weapon and nodded.

"Alright." The first guard spoke up again. "What's your name?"

"Darren Wells." Darren announced.

"I'll let Cory know that Darren Wells' crew retrieved this man and the weapons." The guard rumbled. "You may go. We will take it from here."

"Whoa, what about the, uhh... the bringing him in alive bonus?" Darren asked hesitantly.

"After Cory confirms everything, you and your crew will receive their bonus rations."

The first guard reached out as 'Mountain' Mike handed over the bound and gagged prisoner. He firmly gripped the blonde man by the arm and held him a safe distance to his side. He then started walking him into the employee area of the hotel while the second guard set the confiscated weapon on a nearby table before returning to his watch.

"Alright, cool." Darren smirked. "Good job guys. Let's go catch some shut eye, alright?"

He led the trio back outside. Mike and Alicia shared a room in Building B while Dani and Darren had their own rooms next to each other in Building A. They would probably be parting ways pretty quickly here for the night. But they had done well -- they came back with a prisoner for Cory and got themselves a nice reward for their troubles too. And they got to keep all their hands. That was a good bonus too.

* * * * *

The guard forced Brandon to walk fairly quickly despite having his ankles cuffed together. But it was not a long walk. After heading down a few hallways with closed doors they had only passed two others people along the way, both dressed similarly to the guard transporting him. One of them stopped and joined up with the first one and fell in line behind him. Brandon's escort opened up one of the doors and led him inside.

It had once been an office, but all evidence of that had been erased; the desks, posters, billboard, everything. Even the carpets had been stripped out leaving only the cheap hardwood that had been beneath it. The only evidence of anything being in here before were the discolorations on the walls from where things had hung before. All that was in the room now was a single chair, bolted to the floor with several coils of rope. There were various red stains on both the floor and the walls. While the first guard led Brandon to the chair and forcefully sat him down with his arms behind the back of the chair, the second guard aimed a rifle at Brandon menacingly.

The first guard then tightly wrapped one of the ropes around Brandon's chest and arms while he was in the chair, tying it into a knot tightly behind him. He was then able to unlock the handcuffs on his wrists without any risk of Brandon escaping. He repeated the same process with Brandon's legs, tying them to the bottom of the chair and undoing the cuffs. But he left the gag in his mouth for now.

"Won't be a long wait." The guard told him bluntly.

Then the two guards left the room and closed the door behind them.
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
Brandon flipped the guards the bird as they left. He blinked hard and leaned his head back. What the hell had he gotten himself into? What was the goddamn point of this? He hated the thought but he could only imagine one reason for this set up. They were going to interrogate him. Maybe for information about the two guys who escaped, maybe just for information about his group so they could rob them. He also knew he wasn't going to tell them anything. If he told them what they wanted to know they'd have no reason to keep him alive. If he didn't though, they were going to hurt him. He was about to suffer, and then probably die. He grit his teeth in anger at himself.

All he could think was how sorry he was for what he'd done. Sorry for letting himself get taken, praying that Nolan was alive and unharmed. They said he died in the shoootout. But they also said he was mexican. They could have been lying about the whole thing. If he could speak to his friends he wouldn't stop apologizing. Willow he wasn't sure he could ever stop apologizing to. Why did he need to get that stupid ring? She wouldn't fucking care about that, she'd want him to be safe. He struggled against his binds in frustration, knowing he wouldn't be able to get free. He stilled himself and stared straight ahead, breathing steadily as he prepared himself for what was to come next.

...

Emily wondered what Nolan was planning as he got out of the van. He seemed to have a decent head on his shoulders. It was reassuring. Less reassuring was Willow behind her. Given her experience with drug users she should be more patient about it, but if anything it made her less so. She'd seen the same sort of behaviour time and time again from her brother.

He was a useless piece of crap. Used their mom like an atm, every time promising it was the last time, that he was getting his shit together. He never did, it always ended up going towards meth, or booze or pills or whatever he was suggested to him. His weakness was despicable, he surrounded himself with addicts and then lamented how he couldn't stay clean. All they had to do was offer him something and he'd end up penniless because of it. No self-control because despite his insistence he wanted to get clean he liked destroying himself. He just didn't give a fuck about who else he hurt along the way. She ended just wishing he was dead.

Emily had been sure that if she weren't driving she would have climbed into the back at choked Willow out on the way here. Her babbling was infuriating. But now that she had the quiet she wanted she liked Willow passed out even less. Brandon deserved better than this shit.

"Somebody wake her up. If she's not going to be straight for this she can at least be conscious." Emily said.

Willow would probably have come down some by now. She earned that discomfort. Maybe now she'd be able to appreciate the situation a little.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Annie wasn’t happy. The fact that they were stopped couldn’t mean good things for Brandon. She dared to hope that Emily’s ‘ideal’ scenario would come to pass, that they would catch up with Brandon’s captors and get him back while they still could. That they had failed to do that was worrying.

She remembered what happened two days ago, when it was their group who had taken a prisoner. Things certainly didn’t work out for him.

She felt a stab of guilt at her next thought – that maybe this was karma.

She shook it off and told herself that Brandon wasn’t Gorski. He was going to make it out of this. They would find a way.

Then she did as Emily asked, not really thinking about it. She shook Willow gently.

“Willow,” she whispered. “Wake up.”
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Is that so?
Willow's sleep could hardly be called peaceful, but she was still unhappy to be stirred from it. She let out a long and quiet groan before she rolled her head back up straight. She blinked numbly a few times as her brain worked to process her new surroundings.

"H-how long was I out?" Willow managed to say numbly with her 'I just woke up' voice. "And why are we in the car?"

* * * * *

"At this hour?" Cory yawned as he walked down the hallways with an armored figure. "Couldn't we have just kept him tied up until morning? He isn't going anywhere."

"Davidson said you might be interested in this one. Darren's group captured him, said that he found him in Vernal with one other man. Might be the ones that made a run for it this morning."

The speaker was Andrea; tall for a woman with pale skin and short brunette hair, she was the deputy under Duke and the first to sell herself out to Cory for survival. It was largely thanks to her that his takeover had been as successful as it was. People were dissatisfied with Duke's inability to feed the people here and Andrea had been urging him to take more drastic measures. When Cory arrived, it was easy to convince her to support him and help 'take care' of old man Duke. He was old fashioned and too kindhearted. And Cory had shown him how far being kind got someone in this world. Nobody would ever find his body.

"Oh, those guy?" Cory smirked maliciously. "Didn't think we'd get them."

He opened the door to the office that he was said the prisoner was in. And he was greeted by a face that was not familiar to him at all. An attractive man, bound to a chair and gagged. He had the same blonde hair as the man that escaped, but not much else in common with him. This man was clearly younger and more popular with the ladies.

"This isn't him." Cory told Andrea bluntly.

The muscular 6'3'' man glanced down at the prisoner with his pale blue eyes while he scratched his shaven head.

"But you guys woke me up for this, so I may as well enjoy it."

"Are you sure, Cory?" Andrea asked quizzically. "He will still be here tomorrow."

"You are dismissed, Andrea." Cory waved his hand.

She was right. He would be here tomorrow. But what Cory said was also true; he was here now. And if he was going to wake up for something, he might as well enjoy himself. The problem was, he was almost getting bored of all the people they were finding. He had already 'interrogated' four people that had tried coming through today. Two of them were dead. There was a kind of novelty in Sarnia because it didn't happen often, but thanks to all the signs, people filtered through here rather consistently. There was always someone new to terrify into cooperation.

"What's your name, kid?"

He reached forward and pulled the gag out of the young man's mouth.
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Strompy
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"I refuse to believe you were so high you can't remember." Emily said with an obvious note of disapproval.

Maybe she was being a bitch. She wasn't sure she cared right now. The situation made her worried and that made her mad. Mad at Willow, really mad at Brandon and murderously angry with the people at Green River. However this was going to be worse for Willow so Emily sighed and offered her some mercy.

"Brandon has been kidnapped by Green River." she said calmly.

...

Brandon didn't respond to the question. He just kept staring straight back at Cory. The only chance he had of surviving was to stay quiet and hope Eli and Jimmy succeeded before it was too late for him.
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Is that so?
Willow blinked when Emily dropped the news.

"Y-you mean... that actually happened?" Willow buried her face into her hands. "Oh fuck, oh fuck. And I was fucking baked! What the fuck was I thinking!?"

* * * * *

Cory cocked an eyebrow as the young man remained silent. This was not an unusual thing to encounter. Though few people remained quiet for long.

"I've dealt with a lot of folks more stubborn than you, pretty boy." Cory's gravelly voice rumbled. "I'll be honest. I get my kicks out of watching people squirm. Listening to them scream. The feeling of their flesh being pulverized underneath my fist. But I've been doing so much of it recently that it's almost starting to lose its charm. There are so many other ways you can hurt people without even touching them."

Cory smirked maliciously. His tone of voice was monotone; devoid of any emotion or sympathy for those of whom he spoke of.

"I was hoping that I could come in here and maybe mentally torment you a little bit before going back to bed. I'm tired, I got a long day coming up tomorrow, and I don't really have time to deal with your shit right now. So in the interest of time, I am going to cut past the intimidation and get straight to the point. You are going to tell me your name, where you came from, and where your supplies are. Or I am going to show you how this blood got on the floor."

Cory stood up straight and crossed his arms.

"Choose."
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Strompy
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Cory practically admitted he was going to hurt him anyway. He didn't enjoy hurting people, pain by itself didn't mean amything if it didn't cause a reaction, he enjoyed breaking people. Hurting them until they couldn't stand it anymore. If he told him something now even if it was a lie Cory would just hurt him for the sake of it. If he stayed quiet, maybe Cory's pride would insist he let him live if only to keep trying to break his will later. He just needed to hold on long enough.

He had to laugh mentally at Cory's wording though.

"I find alternating between ice and warm water, then applying aloe vera is the best treatment for busted knuckles." he informed the man, giving him his answer.

Brandon knew pain. He'd had his share lately. He knew what it was like to be hit with the intent to harm too. None of that made what was about to happen any easier to accept though. He just didn't have a choice. It was pain and a chance to survive, or talk and die, maybe even get his friends killed. Get Willow killed. He didn't have a choice. This was probably ging to be the worst experience of his life.

...

"Are you straight now? Brandon seems to think you're something special with a rifle. We're probably going to have to kill people, so you better be." Emily asked.
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Is that so?
"Interesting." Cory mused as he cracked his knuckles. "I will let you know how it works."

Cory could have said that he wasn't going to enjoy this. But that would have been a lie.

* * * * *

"Yeah..." Willow nodded.

The situation didn't feel very real right now. Brandon was missing? Maybe it was because she wasn't there. Perhaps it was simply because she still had a lot of drugs in her system and she was far from 100% operation right now. But she was coherent enough to get that it was real. That everything she thought had been a colorful hallucination was actually real. It scared her. But oddly, she didn't feel like breaking down. She felt like she had to fight.

"I should be good." She nodded somberly. "I'll mow as many people down as I have to."

"Hopefully it won't come to that." Nolan interrupted.

He was holding a water bottle that had the top part of sheared off so that it was like a giant plastic cup. Inside of it there was a viscous red liquid.

"It's water, soap, and flour." Nolan explained before anyone had the chance to ask. "I mixed it all together with some red beet powder that we apparently had. We got ourselves a simple red paint solution here."

"How is paint going to help us get Brandon back?" Willow asked with an annoyed tone.

Nolan dipped his fingers in the paint, moved to the front of the van, and then started smearing the paint down the center of the van.

"Remember those guys we met on the road? The car they stole had a red stripe down the center. And the van in Vernal I noticed had something similar to it too. I know we're in Wyoming, but even that is too gauche to be a coincidence. I'll bet my ass that those guys use it like identification so they can spot friend from foe. So if we put the same stripe on our cars, then we can get close without raising suspicion." Nolan explained proudly.

To Willow, that was a little too much problem solving for her to handle right now. She just sighed and laid back in her seat while rubbing her temples. Her head hurt.

"And what if they realize we aren't with them?" Willow asked the only thing that came to her mind.

"It's the middle of the night in a community with several hundred people living there. Nobody needs to know our faces. We also know the name of their new leader, so we can use that if we need to as well." Nolan shrugged while he was literally finger painting a stripe on a van. "Everything is a risk. But this paint will at the very least make them hesitate, which is all it needs to do."
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Annie was silent but doubtful as Willow answered Emily’s question. Only a couple of hours had passed on the car ride here – she highly doubted Willow was straight, as Emily had put it, no matter what Willow had to say about it. She may not have been ranting and raving about ‘stealth missions’ and other nonsense, but Annie would hardly trust her with her Ruger right now. The idea of her mowing down people in her state, as Willow herself put it, was highly disturbing.

Even more disturbing – the idea that they might not have a choice.

“The red stripe, it makes sense,” she said.

She has started talking again once Nolan had proposed a plan – at least, the first part of a plan. She was happy he had taken the initiative, and impressed with his improvised paint, but unconvinced about the idea overall.

“But do you really think they’re not gonna bat an eyelash at nine faces they don’t recognize? Two of them being kids?” she asked. “And then what – once we get close, what happens next?”

* * *

Eli could see the smoke rising from the fire. He thought he could even feel its heat – though that may just be his nerves overheating his body, in protest against what he was about to do.

Briefly, he thought about all the fires he had set over the past couple weeks, starting with the massive pyre in the aftermath of that night in Mount Kisco. Maybe that had awakened something in him. Maybe he was secretly a pyromaniac and he didn’t know it until then. In the time since, he’d set fire to Mac’s truck, to a pile of ammo and explosives on the Michigan border, that warehouse in Chicago, and now a house in Green River.

That each of those fires were necessary and practical – that he wasn’t a pyromaniac – said something about how messed up his life had become.

If he lived through this, he didn’t have a problem imagining more fires in the future. That probably said something also.

He heard a familiar rumbling of a car engine, and concluded with a smile that they had taken the bait. His smile faded when he remembered all the variables. He still didn’t know if Jimmy was safe or in position, and he still didn’t know what he was going to find on the other side of that wall.

He still didn’t know if the trip over here would be worth it.

They had made good time, at least. Unburdened of everything but weapons, Jimmy’s truck zoomed down the highway like lightning.

They had gone north, then west along the actual Green River, then north again. The road was wide and surrounded by hills expanses of dirt and shrubbery. Refreshingly, it was clear of vehicles, even abandoned or lost ones. There was nothing stopping Jimmy from tearing down it like he was a drag racer, and no reason for Eli not to let him.

They slowed down only when Jimmy turned the headlights off, worried that Green River was in spitting distance. He was right – they arrived in the city limits a minute later, and were surprised to find them empty. Perhaps they shouldn’t have been too surprised. It’s not like Flint had every square inch of their city covered, just a block or so. They surmised the same was probably true of Green River and kept driving, but slowly now.

The town was clear – of everything. The stores looked looted, the rotters were keeled over, dead. It was like that for a few too many minutes of driving. Eli was beginning to have unwelcome thoughts.

Did Pablo lie to us? he wondered. Was this all some elaborate trap? Are we driving right into it?

They crossed a bridge over the titular Green River itself. It wasn’t really green. Maybe it was when the sun hit it a certain way, but in Eli’s opinion it was blue. Calm, too. He might have even thought it was beautiful, if he hadn’t seen a dead rotter floating lazily down it.

On the other side of the bridge, the town remained empty. Eli’s anxiety was about to start spiralling.

Then he saw lights. Dim lights, on the other side of a wall, he observed. The wall was the more impressive part.

He yanked the steering wheel of Jimmy’s truck, surprising him. They came to a stop behind another car that had been abandoned or had broken down in a nearby gas station. If there were eyes on the other side of that wall, he just hoped they hadn’t seem them.

‘Mano,” Jimmy admonished him quietly, appropriating one of his favoured nicknames. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Lo siento,” Eli whispered back. “You see the lights?”

“I see them,” Jimmy said. “But my truck, remember?”

He said it with enough of a smile that Eli didn’t take him too seriously. At the same time, though, he was pretty sure he was serious. Could it be that his fancy custom truck, and his right to drive it independently, may have been the one thing he could be serious about? Eli wondered, but knew this wasn’t the time to consider it.

Without further discussion, they both got out of the truck and stayed low as they moved around to the trunk. Jimmy carefully lifted a tarp to give them access to his arsenal.

And it was an arsenal. Ammo, guns, bladed weapons and explosives – many of them improvised or assembled by Jimmy.

“This is some IRA shit,” Eli said, carefully removing what he guessed was a nail bomb.

A nail bomb, he marvelled, rotating it in his hands. It looked like about half a pound of Semtex wrapped with corrugated paper. The paper was riddled with nails, and a fuse rose from the middle of it.

Tiocfaidh ár lá,” Jimmy said.

Eli didn’t understand the Gaelich, but he assumed it was a joke. A winking reference to some IRA phrase or motto, knowing Jimmy.

“Where’d you even get half this stuff?” Eli had to ask.

“Here and there,” Jimmy answered. “You’d be surprised what some people leave lying around. And killing deadheads in new and interesting ways is kind of a hobby of mine. You know, you saw my house in Flint.”

He said the last part with an actual wink, which Eli ignored. He put the nail bomb in one of the pockets of his jacket. The idea of it being there made him nervous, but once they got over those walls, they could use every advantage they could get. And Cory and his new recruits likely weren’t expecting a nail bomb.

They finished stocking up. When it came to long weapons, Eli chose his trusty AR-15, and Jimmy a sniper rifle that was almost as long as him. They both holstered a couple handheld weapons, too. Jimmy had brought a pair of Ruger 22 caliber pistols, with suppressors Jimmy had made himself and vouched for the effectiveness of, and they each took one of those as well. Jimmy left his spear behind for once, but he did take a couple of combat knives with curved handles that he had once retrieved from God knows where. Eli took a flare gun.

Sufficiently armed to the teeth, they started moving on foot. They crouched and hurried across the open, ducking behind cars and other obstructions where they could, until they reached a curvy suburban street. They moved up it, looking for a good spot to stake out Cory’s basecamp.

They found the street free of rotters, but not rotter stench. Cory’s people had clearly been through here already – or maybe ‘old man Duke’s people had, since that’s who Pablo said used to be in charge.

When they reached the northern end of the neighbourhood, they got a good look at the highway that ran through Green River. It was littered with cars, which was surprising, considering their scarcity everywhere else. The easy conclusion was that they were put there on purpose.

Eli was reminded of the two borders in and out of Canada the group had passed. Both had similar setups, meant to keep rotters at bay, and – more relevantly – lure unsuspecting living victims into traps.

With gestures, not words, Eli and Jimmy picked the last house on the street as a vantage point. They were quietly in sync in their intention to stake out the highway for a while, learn what they could. A few minutes later, they had climbed onto the roof. Jimmy watched through the scope of his sniper rifle, Eli through the lens of Jimmy’s monocular.

It wasn’t long at all before they saw the operation in action. Lights blared at the end of the blockade, and a minute later, a vehicle – a Toyota Previa – passed the guards and started manoeuvring its way through. While it was still in the light, Eli noted the red marking that passed along the hood. So did Jimmy.

“That pretty red stripe – think that’s an aesthetic choice?” the redhead asked, with a sly smile that suggested he didn’t think so.

“Probably not,” Eli said. “Probably a quick way of telling the friendlies from the outsiders.”

That could be a way into the camp, Eli thought. They didn’t have any red paint, however, or any real idea of how they were going to trick the guards once they saw their faces. So instead – having figured they learned everything they were going to learn from this vantage point – they came up with a different plan.

“From that hill over there, you could probably see over the walls,” Eli said. “Could probably aim over the walls.”

“Probably,” Jimmy agreed. “We’d have to cross the highway.”

“It’s dark,” Eli said. “Lots of cover.”

“True,” Jimmy said.

“I think you should do it.”

I should? And what will you do, take a nap?”

“I go in.”

Eli turned the monocular towards the wall now. It was impenetrable to a rotter, but not someone with higher motor functions. Much like the defences of Old Fort Erie – his last score, so to speak. All it would take was a chair or a stool, and he could easily haul himself over it.

“And I cover you?” Jimmy raised an eyebrow.

Eli lowered the monocular and looked to Jimmy. “What do you say?”

“I would say you’re taking a big risk,” he said.

“Life is risk,” Eli said. “Isn’t that your filosofia?

Jimmy smirked. “Kind of.”

“So what do you say?”

Again, Jimmy answered with a question. “You want to kill this guy that bad?”

I do, Eli thought. I really fucking do.

“Yes,” Eli said.

“Then I say okay.”

Splitting up wasn’t ideal, of course, since they had no way to communicate. They only had the one radio between them, and that was switched off – no reason to waste the batteries, Eli figured, since the others are two hours away. Improvising was the best plan they had, however, so they went with it.

Back on solid ground, they prepared to go their separate ways. Eli explained he was going to find Cory, kill him quietly, then slip out however he could. If everything went right, he’d signal to Jimmy from outside the walls, and they’d meet up where they left his truck. And if it went wrong

“Then I’ll signal to you from inside,” Eli said. He held up the flare gun he had taken from Jimmy’s stash. “You see that, you start shooting.”

“As fun as that sounds, I’m going to hope I don’t see that,” Jimmy said.

And that was that. The plan was flimsy as hell, but it was something. Eli offered Jimmy his hand to shake. Good luck, he was about to say.

Instead, Jimmy leaned in suddenly. He planted a quick kiss on his lips. Eli didn’t recoil, but when Jimmy leaned away, his eyebrows were slanted in irritation.

“We talked about that,” he said. His tone was irritated too.

“Good luck,” Jimmy responded simply, stealing his line.

Then he took his rifle and started moving. Eli watched him for a minute, letting him get a head start. He wanted Jimmy in position on that hill before he made his move. If shooting started for any reason, he would need every advantage.

Finally, Jimmy disappeared behind cover, and Eli headed into the house they had been perched on. He found a chair in the kitchen, and brought it with him outside.

He placed it on the ground and paused, however, when a realization hit him. There was a missing ingredient to their plan. They needed a distraction. Something for the people on the wall to look at while Jimmy was setting up and Eli was sneaking over.

If it was something that would require an investigation, that was all the better, Eli considered. If a few guys with guns could be lured outside, that just meant they wouldn’t be inside.

So he went back into the house and he set a fire. Like at the warehouse, he used whatever was nearby for accelerant, and when flames started licking at his shoes, he made his exit.

Soon after, he was watching the fire from the wall of the Green River camp. He assumed the guards were too. While their attention was hopefully diverted, he climbed onto a chair, grabbed the edges of the wall, and hauled himself up and over.

Good luck, Jimmy said, after kissing him.

He was going to need it.
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Make-7-Up-Yours
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Is that so?
Nolan had just about finished painting a stripe on the van. Finger painting had been something he hadn't done since he was a child, but it was all they had right now. He supposed he could have gotten a brush, he was sure he probably picked up at least one. But they were all small paintbrushes. He didn't want to paint a line on a car with a paintbrush.

"That is only last resort -- hopefully we won't need to talk to anybody, though I don't know if we will be able to get in without doing that." Nolan explained his thoughts to Annie. "Thing is, those guys said they had the nearby cities scoped out, right? It means we don't know when or if we are being watched. We don't know their scouting or communication networks at all. Even though it is pretty dark, they might still have night vision or lights. This disguise is flimsy, but it means we should at least be able to move around near the city without immediately drawing suspicion from any scouts they might have."

"So, what you're saying is that it will buy us a little time to scout the place out and maybe get in contact with Eli and Jimmy, right?"

Jen inquired from nearby, her motorcycle was turned off and she was leaning against it as she watched Nolan work from nearby. He had just about finished painting the van and was getting ready to work on Antonio's truck.

"And it might give us a chance through any surprise checkpoints." He added. "There's no guarantees here, but we have a better chance with it than without it."

"And we aren't leaving without Brandon." Willow made sure to reiterate.

She said she was fine, but Nolan thought she still sounded out of it. She was like the drunk person everyone knows that insists they are perfectly sober and capable of driving. Hopefully this disguise could mask them enough so that they wouldn't need to fight. With Brandon, Eli, and Jimmy not here, and Willow still not all there, Nolan had no interest in getting into a gunfight with anyone. Or rather, he had less interest than usual.

* * * * *

Cory casually stepped out of the 'interrogation' room. His knuckles and shirt were pretty bloodied, but none of it was his. The kid had managed to keep his lips sealed -- which told Cory he probably had something juicy to hide. Unfortunately, he could not finish extracting said information out of him. Andrea had been fairly intent on getting his attention and had interrupted him by knocking on the door and drawing him out.

"What is it?" Cory accepted the towel that she handed him and began to wipe off his hands.

"Our watchmen saw smoke rising from the city." Andrea reported to him. "Someone started a fire to lure us out from the city."

Cory nodded. It was an accurate assessment. The only cause of fire right now would be other people. Conceivably it was a mistake, but people were still the perpetrators. It was safer to assume that it was a trap of some sort. He had already fallen for this trick once back in Sarnia. A crafty group that claimed to have a cure started a fire near the bridge using explosives to lure them away from the bridge so that they could pass.

"Did you send anybody to investigate?" Cory asked her.

"We sent a couple of armed cars out to check it out."

Cory frowned. Could it be the same people? That was unlikely, but not impossible. Why would they come here? And whoever they were, was their purpose to draw people to the fire or draw people away from the city? Was it something to do with the blonde prisoner? Maybe he did have friends after all.

"Send a messenger to Dr. Thompson. Tell her she had a patient that needs medical attention." Cory tilted his head to the room. "Then have someone wake all of my soldiers. I believe that this man's friends are about to start a war with us."
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
"Yeah she's gettin' there." Brandon observed as he and Willow helped their daughter walk down to the chicken coop.

Glenda was managing to stand up with a little assistance, she didn't just dangle from their hands like she used to. Her legs were getting stronger and didn't buckle beneath her nearly as often as they did even a couple weeks ago.

"Look how far you're going, baby!" Willow exclaimed happily.

"Annie said she's still within the normal age bracket to be learning how to walk so she's only a little behind." he informed her with a pleased look on his face.

Everything she did was a big deal. It was weird to be this captivated by anything. It was almost impossible not to watch her every little action. Eventually Glenda had enough and let herself dangle, signaling she wanted to be carried. Willow scooped her up eagerly. Brandon opened the door to the coop and fed the waiting chickens. He checked inside the hutch while they were occupied. No eggs today.

The hens hadn't been as productive as he'd hoped lately. He wondered if maybe it was something about the environment or their food that they had decided they didn't like anymore. He had no clue and it was slightly annoying. They'd taken this place for themselves two years earlier. After the cure had taken effect there was a vast country left behind, all a survivor had to do was say "this is mine" and it was their's. With so much space there was hardly a disagreement about it. Their closest neighbors were miles and miles away, out here they had all the space they could ever need fof their modest managerie of chickens and a handful of cows and goats.

A lot of people had moved back toward wgat was left of the cities, setting ip proper farms, getting a power plant operational again. Brandon and Willow were far off the grid though, the way they lived was something out of the past. A house with a view of the distant Rockies with as much space as they wanted to call theirs. They were on the renewed frontier.

"Hey. News." Willow informed him which piqued his interest.

"I think we're going to need the muumuu again." she said, drumming her fingers on her belly.

When she was carrying Glenda she had a favorite dress. It was a hideous thing but it was the only thing she found comfortable towards the end of the pregnancy. Even swollen like she had been the thing hung off her tiny frame comically loosely.

"Break it out tonight, I wanna see your sexy ass work that shit." he growled into her ear.

"God! She's going to fu- if she starts swearing I'll hurt you." Willow warned him.

He chuckled and put his arms around her.

"You're sure?" he asked looking down at her belly and she nodded in response.

He kissed her contentedly. Another child. Good news.

"Good. Need these kids walking ASAP, put 'em to work. Expand some, start turning this into a proper farm. I think ten of them ought to do it. What do you think?" he asked with a wry grin.

"Ugh." Willow said disdainfully and pushed his face away as she turned and walked off.

He laughed out loud heartily and gave chase. He was happy here. It was warm. It was sappy. It was unrealistically idyllic and hopeful. But he was happy here. Cory couldn't hurt him here. He wasn't in pain here. Or cold. Or alone.

The door closing drew him back to reality. He was cold. He was in pain and he was alone. Really alone. Cory had stepped out. Maybe his fists were getting too sore and he needed to find some wraps or something. Maybe he just got bored for now. The break was welcome. Brandon didn't know how much more of this he could take before his body quit. How long had he been at this? Several times he lost consciousness. His head felt swollen inside and out. All he could taste was blood. His nose was broken he could tell that much his jaw too maybe, everything hurt so much it was difficult to tell. His left eye was swollen shut. His ears were ringing. Not to mention the work on his ribs and gut.

Brandon was scared. He didn't want more pain, it was hard to imagine any more of that but he knew it could be done to him. Worst of all was he was afraid to die. Part of him wanted it to happen paradoxically, just for there to be an end to this. Maybe the damage had been done and he was heading that way already.

"I think this is it, Willow. I think he's going to kill me in this room. Maybe he's already done it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." he sobbed.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
When Eli landed on the other side of the wall, and bullets didn’t immediately ring out, he was immensely grateful. He wasn’t sure to whom that gratitude should be extended, but he knew it was there.

Recovering as fast as his body would let him, he rose again to his feet. He drew a pistol. Not the Supergrade, whose feel had grown familiar, but a Ruger .22 with Jimmy’s homemade suppressor affixed to the barrel. It was one of many weapons he had on his belt or in his jacket. When he went on that run with Jimmy, the day after meeting him in Flint, Jimmy had remarked that it looked like he was ready for Operation Desert Storm. Now he was ready for Operation Wrath of God.

He could hear movement – murmurs and faint instructions and the scuffing of shoes and boots. The camp was livelier than he expected for this time of night. He guessed the fire had something to do with that.

The downsides were obvious – more eyes meant more chance of getting caught.

There was a less obvious upside, however. If the camp was too quiet, any disturbance to that quiet would be cause for alarm. Some activity might actually be useful. It might mean that nobody would hear Cory when he died.

* * *

“No we’re not,” Annie agreed with Willow on her last point, at least – that they wouldn’t leave without her boyfriend. “We’re going to get him back.”

It was clear that they needed him. For his survivalist knowledge, and for his leadership. With him gone – and with Eli who knows where – it was clear just how valuable Brandon was.

Nolan may have been trying to fill in the gap, but Annie wasn’t sure about his plan at all. It felt like they were heading into danger too carelessly. She didn’t have an alternative though, so she didn’t voice her concern again.
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