608th's crew

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Gonzalez

Sonny, I Watched the Vault Bein' Built!
This game takes place in a universe simil to that of the "Wasteland" series.

The bombs fell, no one knows why, it was sudden, and you no longer have mass media to explain the world for you, there is just silence. All of a sudden the planet entered the phase of "post apocalyptic", in a matter of days the world was different, harsher, unforgiving, where survival is the main part of every day's life.

There was a US Army tank regiment out in maneuvers in the Arizona Dessert, because of their location away from any city they had been safe from the bombms, but without a government to serve to, the military verticality helped little to provide cohesion. Soon madness took over the ranks, many, unable to face the new world, and sure that everyone they ever knew was dead, commited suicide. Others, against the orders of their superiors who were trying to keep the regiment organized, maybe to form a comunity, maybe to help everyone survive, maybe to deny the new situation they were in, desserted in a blind hope to find their families. Soon, the lidership also left, what was left of the survivors who hadn't left already grabbed whatever gear they could and dispersed into the dessert, in a hope to survive, perhaps out of habit, perhaps because there was nothing else left to do.

One of such groups mounted on their armored vehicle, got fuel and supplies and brought it to life, to use as a mean of transport, or perhaps not to let it die with the rest of the regiment's tanks, left out to bake in the desert sun. They didn't had much of an idea of where to go. Should they go into one of the now probably irradiated cities, in search of survivors, perhaps groups of srvivors already mounting a comunity? Or try to look for one such comunity in an area much less likely to have been hit by he bombs, perhaps a forgotten dessert town. They had maps, but with the world changed, how much of what was in the maps was now different? They would have to go out there and find out.

 
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(Sorry for the spelling mistakes, english is not my native language and I have a tendency for fast typing. There used to be a spell check in the old forum but it's gone now. I'll edit as I notice them.)

Captain Boyd arrives to the regiment's temporary FOB in a jeep with a sergeant and two privates, he is special forces, the soldiers are not, he picked them up earlier along the road along with the jeep. Curious for answers, shady and misterious Cpt. Boyd proceeds inside the FOB, as he does it, he turns to the sergeant "I'm gonna try to find the CO here, see if anyone has an idea of what's going on...". As he makes his way inside he can overhear soldiers screaming and some histerical laughter in the background. He approaches one of the soldiers, he is wearing a trenchcoat and covering his face with it. "excuse me, do you know where I can find the CO?". The soldier answers by barking and babbling and then runs away. Impressed by this exentric performance he then approaches a couple of soldiers that at least look to be a it more sane they are both carrying supplies. "Excuse me... Hey! Do you know where I can find the CO?". The private answer is dismissive and with tone of disdain: "Don't aske me, man, I only work here." and keeps walking. Finally Captain Boyd finds a soldier, he also seems busy collecting some supplies, he tries once more: "Excuse me..." "Uh... Sir!" The private stands at attention, at least someone around here still respects the rank. "At ease, private. Do you know where I can find the CO?" The private looks surprised: "It aint you...?"

Shortly after the captain returns to the jeep carrying a jerry can and an ammo box. "I found some fuel and some ammo...". The sergeant inquires "Did you find the CO, captain?". The catain loads the jerry can and the ammo box into the jeep and pauses. "There is no fucking CO here... lets go."



Mark sits at the comander's position of his tank, sit in the up position, looking out, arms around the cupola. His face shows distress. "Shit shit shit shit shit" He mumbled to himself. All the officers where either gone or dead. His driver was AWOL and the loader put a .45 in his mouth shortly after the bombs fell. The whole situation at the camp could only be described as pure chaos. It was time to leave, he told his gunner, James, to meet him at the tank, but he was running late. They already agreed that they had to leave, Mark had already decided that they were taking the tank with them. He wanted to ask James if he was comming with him or not and what they were going to do afterwards. But more importantly, they needed fuel, ammo, and above all food and water. When the officers were trying to get things organized they locked most of the food in the ammo depot, a small underground bunker in the west of the camp. Mark had sent James to find someone from the quatermaste's staff that might still have a key to it, but he was running late for the meeting and things around the camp never looked worse. Everyone was leaving and taking what they could with them. No one was taking the tanks, most were left abandoned for some reason.
 
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It was a bad day for Ralph, first he was late to work and was ordered to wash the dishes as punishment, the Master Cook, already fed up with Ralph talents, also ordered him to peel the potatoes, it was a common day although a bad one but then... then the bombs fell.

Ralph at first didn't notice the whole place going nuts because he was daydreaming while peeling the potatoes but when he heard a scream inside the kitchen alongside with gunshots he thought that maybe something was going on. He went to the front desk where the mess hall is and encountered one of his coworker, now former, lying on the ground with a gunshot wound on the head, ironically he was holding a glass of ketchup so there was more ''blood'' than normal.

The whole situation started when three rookies armed with pistols stormed the mess hall and demanded the food supplies, the kitchen staff, like Ralph, didn't know what was happening and naturally refused to give them since it was against the rules, one of the rookies didn't like that and shot one of the staff in the head. The action stunned the kitchen staff and one the screamed, the same scream that Ralph had heard, but the death of the worker didn't scared the master cook, Edgardo. Trembling, the rookies again demanded the food supplies and to their surprise and to the surprise to the staff and Ralph, Edgardo The Master Cook said no and he said will be forever guarded in Ralph's memories. He said with a potent and rough voice '' I'm the master cook here, I had more of 30 years of work in my back and I had learned things that you never will, this is my kitchen and I don't tolerate murderers and gunpowder in it, and these sore asses?'' He waved to the kitchen staff '' Are my babies, and no one mess with my babies, I'm gonna kick your ass and I will make sushi out of your flesh and desserts out of your interiors, bon appetite'' It was a bit cheesy but it motivated the staff and even Ralph but the motivation quickly faded in Ralph when the Master Cook leaped to the rookies armed with knife and with him went the remnants of the kitchen staff armed with another kitchen utensils. Ralph cowardly ran to the back when the slaughter started and stayed there till it's end.

When the shouting was over all the kitchen staff were dead taking them to the grave two of the three rookies, the third was nowhere to be seen but a blood trail was on the ground. ''Shit,shit and many shits'' thought Ralph looking to the bloody mess and the chaos outside, '' I gotta do something, I must escape but the nearest decent place is miles away'' he started to look around '' Think! There is some food here and many other thing, I must pack to escape'' Ralph started to to loot the corpses '' I never liked you guys but now I respect for what all you did, maybe '' he said when he started to loot the kitchen staff '' Hell, Edgardo now is one of my heroes and he was douche-bag with me but now I like him'' he said to the remains of Edgardo '' Did you hear?, I like you now! Don't abuse it though''.

After he picked clean the corpses, Ralph took shelter in the back rooms and blocked all the doors because he heard others coming. Locked, inside a room with the kitchen's supplies and peeled potatoes, under a table Ralph thought how to get out of this madness.
 
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James ran toward the dining hall, searching for anyone that was still around. Just before reaching the hall, he heard screaming and gunshots. It sounded like chaos in there. Just before the doorway to the hall which was swung wide open, he took cover and crouched with his M-16 in hand. He only had one clip, which was loaded inside the gun. By the time he had gotten to the armory it had been raided. His second task was to find someone still holding the a copy of the quartermaster's key, as last he had known the stocks of food and water had not yet been raided, and he had to find the key at all costs. Carefully, and silently he clicked off the safety on his M16, and peeked out from behind his cover. The dining hall was clear, the gun fire and screaming seemed to have been coming from the kitchen.

As James lifted up from his crouched position, rifle aimed steadily at the door way, he slowly walked toward the kitchen with his finger on the trigger. James had never killed anybody before, hell, he had never even been in a real fire fight. The first half of his time in the Army he spent in medic classes which he didn't even pass, the second half he spent inside a tank in training exercises. Still, he was no coward. As he got closer to the kitchen, the sounds of the fight suddenly grinded to a halt. Just like that, the fight was over as quick as it had began. James lowered his weapon, but only slightly, and took a couple more steps until he saw a shadow in the light, nearing the doorway. He lifted his gun back up, steadily aiming it at the door as the figure approached. It was a man, by the symbol on his shirt, the rank of private. He was holding a 9mm pistol in his right hand, and his left hand was pressed on a wound in his stomach.

"Help..." he groaned, as he limped toward James. James stood there with his weapon aimed directly at his head, unsure of what to do.
"Help..." the private again aid, and removed his hand from his wound. There was a piece of a large knife still sticking out of it. It seems as if someone stabbed him and then broke the blade off while the knife was still in him.
The private took a few more steps, or limps, toward James before falling down.

James moved over toward him, and kneeled down toward the private. With his index and middle fingers pressed together, he put his hands on the side of the man's neck. 'Dead.....' James thought to himself.
James took a deep sigh. "Sorry man..." he said, more to himself than to the corpse as he took his .45 1911. He checked the clip in the pistol. Empty. Damn...

James stood up carefully, holstered the pistol in his belt and moved toward the kitchen. As he walked in the kitchen, in the corner of his eye he saw a figure hastily scurry into and behind another door, hearing a lock click just after that. He quickly surveyed the room. The bodies had already all been checked. There was also the body of a head chef on the kitchen floor. If it served James' memory correctly, the head chef received the copy of the quatermasters' key. James slowly and steadily bent down to the corpse who had a bullet tightly wedged in between his eyes. James checked his pockets with his left hand while clutching his rifle with his right. Nothing. That person who ran into the room must have it...

James walked toward the door, rifle aimed steadily. He lowered his rifle for a second and attempted to open it. "Damn, that's right. He locked it." James knocked on the door "Anyone in there?"
 
Time was passing and Ralph was getting more desperate, '' If I try to escape, someone will shoot me but if I stay here someone will eventually come, shit, what do I do?'' He embraced himself under the table and started to tremble a bit, reality was kicking in, ''I'm going to die, there is no denying'' he cried.

For his surprise someone knocked on the door and said ''Anyone in there?''. Ralph startled when he heard the voice ''Shit! That bastard have come to finish me off!'' he thought, '' What do I do!?''. Looking at the room he found the peeled potatoes on the table, he quickly picked one and raised it menacingly to the air and screamed to the door '' Go away you son of a bitch! You already killed my friends but you are not going to take me down! I have grenade with me and if you don't go the fuck away I'm taking this place to the ground!
 
"I don't buy it. You're bluffing..." James said.

"You can either open the door up now, or I'll empty this clip through the goddamn door!"

James waited, still nothing as a few moments of silence passed by.

"Look, we're leaving this place. The Russians finally dropped the bomb and the US Military is completely broken down. So-" James was cut off in mid sentence.

"Dropped the bombs?!" he asked through the door, surprised.

"Yeah, they-. Wait, you didn't know?" James asked.
"So that's why...." the man behind the door said quietly to himself.
"Anyways, we're leaving. There's nothing left for anyone here, and we'd be willing to take you along. But first, I need that key you're holding..."
 
So that's what happened, the Russians dropped the bomb, that explained everything, it was a bit difficult to Ralph understand what just happened and he didn't fully trusted the soldier, he might think that he killed the rookies, but the mention of escaping this madness and the offer of taking him along had created a hope in Ralph.

''Okay'' Ralph sighed '' Let's make something clear first. I didn't killed those guys if that's what you thinking, they attacked us and the kitchen staff reacted, so if you are looking for revenge shoot those dead bodies a little and see if that makes you feel better but if you are thinking of shooting me down anyway I warn you that I have more than one grenade and I'm not afraid of using them'' Ralph was still trembling, from the news and that is not everyday that you try to threat a soldier.

''So for starters, move away from the door and put your weapon down,I will open the door a little and we can talk a bit about your proposal, I might even give the key to this door if that's what you are asking. Try something and I will blow this place to the heavens understood?
Ralph cried

Ralph putted the potato down and approached the door with a rookie's pistol on his trembling left hand and with his another trembling hand he put on the doorknob, the shaking could be heard from the other side. With a cowardly voice he asked again to the soldier ''Deal?''
 
Mark sits on his tank ready for anything, they had everything they needed except for the food, that meant anyone in search of fuel or ammo might attack the tank. fifty meters in front of him, he sees a group of five men moving left to right, he gets his hands on the 50. cal atop the commander's hatch, ready for anything, but they move past him, headed in the direction of the kitchen. "Dammit" All he could hope is that James was already on his way back.
 
Ralph didn't hear an answer but he still could see the shadow of the soldier trough the gap of the door, thinking that he may leave him there Ralph got more desperate.

''Oh goddammit'' Ralph cried '' Alright, I'm opening the door but you must let me come with you, I know how to cook and manage food , you going to need me if you want to preserve these supplies or if you want to have some decent meal on the road''

Ralph started opening the door, '' The only problem is that I don't know what key you're talking about'' Ralph opened the door and looked to the soldier with desperate yet hopeful eyes '' So, can I come with you? ''
 
"What?" James asked, lowering his rifle.

"You didn't loot those corpses?" James said eagerly, pointing over toward the dead bodies in the kitchen.

"That head chef was supposed to have a special key on him..." James said. He took a deep sigh. "At least check you're equipment again..."

The chef did so, rummaging through his pockets. A few .45 and 9mm bullets and that's about all that he managed to pull out.

"Goddammit!" James yelled angrily, kicking one of the corpses in the head. Then he managed to snap out of his phase of anger as quick as he had let go to it, after looking upon the body he had just kicked. It was the body of the head chef.

James knelt down quickly, and again checked his pockets. "Damn. Nothing" he said, while still kneeling. As he sat there, thinking about what to do, especially about the man who he had just promised to take with them. His party couldn't feed an extra mouth on their already-low food supplies. If they didn't find more food, and fast, then- "Wait!" James yelled into silence, cutting off his own thoughts. He reached his hands under the chef's shirt, and pulled a necklace off the head chef, breaking the chain around his neck. At the end of the necklace was a small key. "Hahahaha, YES!" James laughed, almost hysterically.

He quickly got up, and took the .45 bullets from the cook he had just met, and started loading them into the clip of the .45 he had just taken from the dead soldier in the dining hall moments before. After loading the clip up rather quickly with ammunition, he slid the clip up into the chamber of the 1911, his hands following an almost dance-like motion showing that James was obviously trained well, and motioned his thumb to cock the hammer back. "Personally, I like 9 millimeter's, but this'll have to do" he said pointing the gun at the cook. The chef quickly backed himself up into a corner, as James span the gun around his finger to where the handle was now pointed toward the cook. "Can you use a weapon?" James asked.

"Uhh...." the cook stood there, simply looking at the gun.
"It's simple. I've already done everything for you. All you have to do is point and shoot" James said.
The cook slowly took the gun, and quietly repeated to himself "point... and shoot". James nodded at the cook.
"Welcome aboard the 108th. Let's move", James said.

On the way out of the kitchen, James and the cook walked through a hallway, only to see another group, maybe five men, all with rifles, enter the kitchen through a different hallway. "Shit" James said, looking at the cook. "They're looking for the key..." James and the cook quietly and slowly snuck out of the Mess Hall building, around the five men. As they snuck through the hall, attempting to be as quiet as possible so not to alarm the men, James heard one of the men going ballistic, screaming angrily at everything. James couldn't help but give a quiet snicker. They went looking for the key, but all they found were looted bodies. James and the cook quietly left the mess hall and carried on.

James and the cook hurried off toward the small bunker in which they were keeping the food in storage. On the way there, they saw several other soldiers loading crates of food and even weapons into trucks, jeeps, tanks, even helicopters, and taking off in different directions. "Fuck!" James said, "We've got to hurry". There walking pace quickly turned into a jog, and upon seeing more soldiers with crates of food, water, and ammunition as they neared the storage, their jog turned into a run.

Eventually James and the cook got to the storage area. The door was wide open. There were only two crates left. One of food and water that could feed the three for about a month, and the other with fuel. Any other crates left contained parts for vehicles, or weapons and ammunition, but were to heavy for men to lift out of the bunker. They were meant to be heli-lifted out. All James and the cook would be able to take were the two crates. It'll have to do, James thought. He walked into the large bunker, the cook following closely behind him.

"Who the hell are you?" a man with a thick cigar and weathered beard asked him.

The man was only in his mid twenties, possibly 26 or 27, however he had a gruff about him. Made him look older than he really was to anyone without such perception like James'. Anyone else would perceive him to be at least 35. By show of the man's insignia on his uniform, he was a Second Lieutenant, the lowest officer rank in the US Army. James was surprised to see an officer still on base, even if it was the lowest officer rank. By studying him for a quick moment, James could immediately tell this man was a veteran to war. Possibly Vietnam, which had only ended a few years ago. That's most likely where his gruff which made him look older came from. Most people become an officer by going to and graduating from a military academy. James however, by way of perception, could tell this man started out as a Private like everyone else, and gained an officer rank through his own personal exploits. It takes a long time to rise up through the ranks like that, and a lot of fighting. James guessed this man had been in the military since he was 18, possibly 17 with permission from his parents. James quickly realized he was dealing with an armed veteran. This man skills in war outmatched James own.

James looked to his left. There, three men were loading up more boxes of food and water into a truck. A quick count revealed that they were had at least three more crates of food, water, and ammunition. The other crates in the truck held things that wouldn't be of any use to James or his party, and he himself couldn't help but wounder why they'd want to take it. Two of the men were loading the boxes, and the third, the one who had asked James who he was, was standing there presiding over them. The two men loading the boxes held the (former) rank of Staff Sergeant and Corporal, just like James.

"If you're hear for the supplies, forget it. Everything's been taken and what's left here is ours. So beat it!" When James didn't budge, the 2nd Lieutenant gave an irritated sigh, displaying that he was obviously annoyed. He obviously wasn't talking in official capacity, and didn't even care to try to exercise his chain-of-command authority over James. "Look asshole, I said beat it. I've already dealt with pests earlier, so if you don't want to end up like them" the man said, gesturing with his rifle over toward two corpses lying about twenty yards away to the right "then I suggest you GET THE FUCK UP OUT OF HERE", the Lieutenant yelled.

Thoughts were quickly racing through James head. They needed those supplies, but was it worth getting killed...? He knew he only had a few seconds to give a reply before getting shot anyways. He pushed the cook behind a large crate, and then jumped behind another larger crate standing upward and took cover. Instinct took over, and James systematically poked his gun out and blind-fired at the three, albeit missing all of them. They just received his answer.
 
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''Point and shoot'' Ralph though to himself when the soldier gave him the gun ''Point and shoot, this should be easy''

Turned out it wasn't

Ralph was behind a large crate during a gunfight that his new friend started with some other guys that were already looting the scraps of the already looted storage, turned out that was more than one key in the base. The looters were firing against him ,his friend was doing the same against them and Ralph was cowered and trembling behind a big crate.

''Shitshitshitshit'' Ralph cried ''Looks like today is my day, oh god, what I did to deserve this!?'' he cried again. Bullets were flying in the air and sooner or later one would hit him ''I'm going to die!'' he cried. Ralph could barely hear and even see what was happening, his eyes were blurred due to his tears but he could see his new friend being overwhelmed by bullets ''I got to do something or both of us will be killed'' Ralph cried, he went to the corner of the crate and blindly shoot to his enemies, he might even hit one of them for he could hear a scream, but as soon he fired his fourth shoot the weapon jammed, looks like its previous owner didn't proper treat it and for that, Ralph and his friend might die.

''Really!? I can't believe, my day just got better'' said Ralph while he tried unjam the gun but to no avail, he pulled his kitchen knife and looked to his friend, he was busy shooting and probably could kill them easily but Ralph already had made up his mind.

Ralph looked to his knife, he just needed the courage to do it or the luck of his friend killing them first, he looked to some crates that made a line to the looters, '' Is to kill or to be killed, probably the latter but I ain't going down so pathetic'' Ralph was preparing himself ''I hope is just like the movies'' and finally he started to run to those crates shouting while at it.

It was almost like the movies, he really did made to the crates but when he was near them he got shot in the leg and probably in the other places too but he was occupied screaming behind the crates to proper look at them. His attempt was not so futile, his friend manage to hit the same guy who distracted himself to shoot Ralph, now only two guys remained, one of them probably wounded, unless the earlier scream came from someone else.
 
As Ralph plunged on the first guy, James noticed the Second Lieutenant in the group moving into position to shoot Ralph. This guy was obviously better than James, but he had made his first mistake and that was all James needed. The Second Lieutenant poked his head out from behind cover, and James aimed the rifle square at his head. "Clink!" a sound clicked from the gun, letting James know he was out of ammo. "You've got to be shitting me!" James said to himself. "Ralph, look out!" James yelled. Ralph was in the midst of stabbing one of the soldiers for the third time, however the moment he heard James yell, his attention immediately snapped to what was going on, and his eyes hit the Second Lieutenants rifle which was zeroing in on Ralph. Call it human instinct, but Ralph's immediate reaction was to move into a duck and cover position with his head tucked down into his lap and his hands over his head. However as he was moving into this position, the man whom he was currently stabbing fell atop him just as the Second Lieutenant started to fire his rifle.

The bullets whizzed right into the dead corpse leaning atop Ralph, keeping him from harm. Jason took this opportunity to to load some of the spare bullets he got from Ralph into his empty clip. He loaded three, that's all he needed. He had a plan, a bad one at that, but it was still better than nothing. Ralph loaded the clip into his rifle and pulled the bar back quickly after, loading a bullet into the chamber. He took aim for one of the boxes on the truck and yelled "Ralph, get down!"

As Ralph immediately dove behind a crate, kicking the body on top of him off, the Second Lieutenant and the other remaining soldier also heard Jason yell, turning their attention (and weapons) toward Jason.

Jason aimed for one of the crates on the truck marked with a X and fired at it. The first shot went through, but did nothing. The second bullet hit the crate square in the middle, soon after causing a small explosion which Jason immediately shielded his face from by burying him head into his arm's inner elbow.

After Jason realized he was safe from harm, he immediately stood up and ran over to Ralph. He took a knee and helped pick him up.

James inspected him. "You OK?"
"I... I got shot!" Ralph said, starting to panic.
James looked down. There was a bullet wound in his upper right leg.
"Let's take a look here..." James said as he knelt down to inspect the wound.
James would have made a damn good US Army medic, he studied those textbooks cover to cover. He only failed that test by one damn question, and that fact annoyed him to no end.
"Hmmm..." James looked at the wound. He then stuck his index finger on his right hand inside the wound, causing Ralph to yell and buckle over.
"Yeah, you'll live" James said, standing up and wiping the blood off his finger. "The bullet missed anything vital, it's wedged in straight muscle which your body can easily heal. The bullet's only half an inch deep"
"Only?!?!" Ralph grunted.
"Yeah. Another inch deeper and I would have had to perform surgery. Without the proper equipment, which I don't have, we'd be lucky if amputating your leg was the worst of our problems"
James said.
"Just wrap it up with this for now," James tore a sleeve off one of the dead soldiers shirts and threw it at Ralph "and I'll get ya fixed up when we get back to the tank"
"Tank?!" Ralph said

James stood up to inspect the damage. The explosion from the crate holding gas canisters he shot destroyed the entire back of the truck. The Second Lieutenant's face was now unrecognizable. Severe third degree burns and trauma to the head due to shrapnel made up of broken pieces of the truck had been propelled into his head destroying his brain, after however he had first received massive third degree burns on his face which boiled his left eye out of his head and melted it's remains to his cheek, ending his wretched existence. While the man was burnt badly, the actual cause of death was the dozens of tiny pieces of wood and metal which had lodged itself into his brain that killed the man. James knew that while his death was quick, for a moment, the man had experienced a level a pain that would cripple anybody and make them cry for their mothers. His entire face was burnt, on the left side his eye ball was melted to his face right below the empty eye socket; the right side of his face looked like someone shot him with a shotgun, buckshot ammunition, at less than a foot away. The Lieutenant was not a pretty sight. This was the first man James had every killed. He sat there, thinking about it for a moment. He let the thought sink into his gut, in which the thought then started to force it's way out.

James crawled away a few feet and puked on the floor while on his hands and knees. A third the reason was that horrid smell coming out of the Lieutenants eye sockets (James guess being fried brains, cooked medium rare to over done), the other third was that James had just took a life, stole a soul from this world, getting to his head. Finally, the last piece of the puzzle to James' regurgitating was the fact that he was coming down from his first ever combat high. Not a good feeling.

Ralph didn't dare utter a word. He just sat there, some how not able to smell that horrid smell of burnt flesh and brain. James slowly picked himself up, and shook off the fact that he had just taken another man's life. He suppressed that memory and locked it away deep in his subconsciousness. If he kept thinking about it, it would get to him. It would haunt him for the rest of his life. It would slowly destroy his mind. And he knew that. James again shook off the though, throwing the thought in his subconscious vault and looking the door to it forever.

James bent down and took the clip out of his rifle, and loaded it into his. He then went to check the other soldier. James knelt down and pressed his index and middle finger against his neck.

"Huh. This guy is still alive, but he's pretty charred" James said.
"What should we do?" Ralph asked.
"Leave him" James said standing back up, and going to recover the supplies.
"Leave him?" Ralph asked again.
"Yeah... the bastard tried to kills us over food and water. Not to mention he probably offed those other two poor schmucks who were here before us to steal their supplies" James said. "Now here" he set down a heavy crate into Ralph's arms "Help me carry these. I'm letting you off with only one crate since you did take a bullet for us and all... I guess if that doesn't show we can trust you nothing will" James picked up the other two crates, one in each hand. The explosion destroyed the majority of food and water stocks that they had loaded up into the truck, all that was left were the two crates that they hadn't yet loaded and one slightly-burnt but otherwise relatively untouched crate that got thrown to the back of the truck (it was hiding safely behind some other crates) when the explosion hit.
"This will only be about... five to six months worth of food and water if we ration. Three if we don't. Ah, he's going to be pissed... but this'll have to do" James said, walking out of the bunker.
"Who?" Ralph said.


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James and Ralph finally approached the tank. James set down the two crates of food/water and knocked on the tank's side with seven sharp raps, in the "shave and a hair cut, two bits" sequence.
"Hey man it's me, open up. We got the supplies...." James said

OOC: Sorry if this was too girzzly for you. I just suddenly went on a creative spree. I wanted to capture the intensity and reality of the moment, and how killing another man in such a gruesome way had affected James.
 
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Ralph was panicking, he got shot and his friend made everyone go boom, the mess after the explosion were horrible and how that looter turned out with his face and the smell, which strangely smelled just like burnt meat to Ralph.

Nevertheless, they got the supplies and Ralph was assured that his wound was not serious and would be easy to treat it and it looked like his friend, which name was James, got a fucking tank, the mention of it made Ralph feel safe '' It looks like the apocalypse will not be a problem if we have a tank'' Ralph even made a small smile.

And he really had one, the beast was huge and it was with it's brothers and sisters, looks like everybody ignored them, poor things. James went to tank and started knocking it.

While James was knocking the tank, Ralph picked up his knife, it was blood red as if he just used it to cut some red meat but it was not, it was blood red from the looter he stabbed, his kin in nature. Ralph kept looking the knife, there was no difference, he just sliced some meat, normal meat and that's that.

Ralph broke out of his trance when noises coming from the tank started.
 
Mark looked out trough the vision blocks, and could see Jame's face right next to the cupola, he then oppened the hatch. "I was starting to think you weren't comming back, there is weird peeople coming and going, the sooner we leave the better. Just load in what you got and... Who the hell is he?" Mark looked at Ralph. "Nevermind, you brought him, he's your responsibility, I just don't want him bleeding all over the tank."

A couple of boxes of food and water wasn't going to last forever, but then again you can't really load too many supplies into a tank, it's not a transport truck. It was enough to last until they could find another place to either resupply or, ideally, find sanctuary. But first they had to get out of there. As soon as they finished loading the supplies Mark went into his most hated position in the tank, front and center, the most confined place, the diver's seat.

He started the tank and made a quick cheklist on everything before start moving it forward. What direction? It didn't mattered... away for now, but soon they would have to decide where they were going, and what they were going to do after. Mark was also worried about the new addition, a cook, he had no combat training and couldn't man any position in the tank, maybe he could be taught how to drive the tank so Mark wouldn't have to anymore. Soon it was Jame's turn to drive and Mark went back to the turret, where it was more roomy, and there was much better vision of what went on around the tank.

For Mark the best bet was to find a small town untouched by the bombs. It was time to look at the maps. Tucson was to the East, Phoenix to the North, both most likely bombed. Phoenix was big thoug, maybe the suburbs were still untouched. To the West was Ajo, a town small enough and far enough to have been ignored by the bombs. Wichever place they decided to go to they would have to make a choice fast, before more fuel and food was wasted.

OOC: Creative gore is just fine :smile:. Now is time for you guys to choose wich way we go, if there is a tie Mark will break it.
 
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While Mark was driving after the first hit the road, leaving the damned base behind for good.

James went back toward where Mark was driving.

"Can we trust this guy? I mean a cook? Really James?"
"Look, we needed one more to crew the tank properly. Anyway's he's a cook, that's a plus right?"
Mark looked at James with a 'Really?' face, and both started busting up laughing.
"Alright man, I gotta go patch this guy up" James said, leaving to go tend to Ralph.
"Wonderful. We haven't even left the base and we've already used up our only First Aid Kit. Godammit James...." Mark said to himself.

********************************************************************

James went to tend to Ralph who was [in the back of the tank?], a place roomy enough to sleep, a little mat had been laid out there. Not the most comfortable thing, but better than sleeping on the floor of a tank.

Ralph was leaning up against one of the tank walls.
"This isn't very roomy is it?" Ralph said, giving a small laugh.
"Actually, it was intended to be crewed by four people, so this is actually really roomy for an M80" James replied.
"Alright, welcome to James' Chop Shop, let's get you're leg patched up"

James took one of the morphine shots out of the medic kit and stuck it in Ralph's leg. He then pulled a pair of tweezers out of the medic kit and took the bullet out of Ralph's leg.
"Here, souvenir for ya" James put the bullet in Ralph's hand. James then cleaned the wound, sewed up the hole in his leg, and then finally dressed the wound.
"There you go, good as new"

*************************************************************************

After a while James took over driving from Mark. Before he did, however, they each voted on where to go.

"Well, I vote we hit Phoenix first. We find more supplies there, and then figure out where to go from there...." James said, looking at the map.
 
Ralph has never entered a tank, so he was amazed when he entered one, buttons everywhere, solid walls, the cannon and etc. For the first time in this apocalypse, Ralph felt safe, now he just need to make sure to not be kicked out.

After James treated his wound, Ralph went to talk with the other soldier, Mark '' Hmm... excuse me sir'' Ralph nervously said '' I... would like to... be helpful around here'' Ralph was nervously playing with his bullet on his hand '' Tell me what to do I... learn fast I guess... Just tell what to do, apart from cooking and cleaning... I guess I'm already going to do them right?'' Ralph said to Mark, which was taller than him. Mark looked to him and said a brief ''okay'' and went back to his duties.

Some time later, Mark and James voted where to go, James said they should go to Phoenix because of reasons. '' Ahn... excuse me...hmm... James... sir... but we should probably go to a smaller city'' Ralph said to both soldiers '' Because... everyone will go to Phoenix...probably... so even if we found more supplies there we will find more trouble than in a smaller city... I guess... so I vote that we should go to a small city like Ajo'' The soldiers kept looking at him '' But if you guys want to go to Phoenix... I'm okay with that... I'm just saying it'' Ralph went to a corner and waited their decision.
 
"Right then, Ajo it is, it's close enough anyways, we can always turn north to Phoenix if we find nothing there, but we can't go to all three places, not without resupplying first." Mark turns to Ralph. "Do you know how to drive a car? Nevermind, even if you don't you'll learn how to drive this tank, it's really simple, only difference is that this wheights 60 tons, so you have to take that in mind when turning or breaking. See, you even have a steering wheel, like in a normal car..." Mark teaches Ralph how to drive and how to take commands when doing so.

OOC: For the purposes of this game Ralph just leaned the "tank driving" skill.

The tank now moved towards Ajo, Ralph was driving, still practicing and getting used to how the tank moves. They were driving in the middle of the desert and in a straight line, so it seemd realtively safe for Ralph to be practicing as they traveled. Still Mark was looking out the comanders cupola, with a pair of binoculars, making sure there were no terrain features like holes or treches Ralph could drive the tank into. Mark used the headset to talk to Raph: "Remember, if I tell you to stop, you STOP!". Mark takes another look trough the binoculars at a distance. "DRIVER STOP!!!"

The tank wasn't going fast, but Ralph breaks rather violently. However this didn't worried Mark, he was more worried with what he saw. North of the tank's position, about a mile away, he could see four people running towards the tank, they looked like soldiers, no way of knowing if they were from the camp or not. They must have seen the tank's dust trail on the dessert, and they were now running, waving their arms. Maybe it was a trap, they could be hostiles, or maybe they were good people that genuinely needed help, but even if they did, was it wise to help them? There were only so many supplies left, and there was certainly no room for four people, unless they traveled on top of the tank.

"What do you guys think? Do we stay here and see who they are, or do we drive on? You know what the stakes are."

It was tircky. How was the group going to behave in this new world, everywhere they went? Would they help everyone they could, even risking their own safety? Or were they going to focus on surviving, morality aside? No one had tought about it until now, but now they had to choose. How could they expect help from Ajo villagers if they weren't willing to offer help themselves. But then again, was it worth it? What if they were dangerous, like the people back at the camp, desperate to survive and willing to kill in order to do so?
 
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James, currently in the loader/gunner position, was talking into his headset.

"Yeah, so we need an intercom system built in...." James said.

James noticed the couple right away, and soon after Mark's voice started to come through on the radio headset.

James thought about it for a minute, and then suddenly took initiative.

"Alright, here's what we should do" James started, "We stop the tank and talk to them through use of the vision outlet or monitors. See what they want, that way they can't try to steal our shit"
 
Ralph was born to drive tanks it seems, he never knew it was so simple and when he started to drive it all came naturally, of course there was an error here and there, nevertheless, Ralph was doing pretty well.

When Mark ordered him to stop and told everybody of the people running to the tank, Ralph said ''Hmm, I'm with James, we should talk with these people but I say that we shouldn't stop, is there a low speed option in this thing Mark? Also, we should prepare our guns too, we need to be ready for anything.''
 
"Nah, if we move slow is the same thing, we are still vulnerable, and they won't hear a thing we are saying with all the noise this tank makes when moving. And if we lock ourselves in the only way they could hear us would be using the telephone on the rear of the tank, and I'm not about to let them that near, especially at the rear. Either way we will be vulnerable, the only way to be safe is to keep them at a distance, so they can't flank us and look for weak spots. We will stop, present them with the front of the tank where the armor is strogest and keep them just close enough for us to hear them yell, not an inch closer. James, you man the 60 on the loaders hatch, I'll be with the 50 at the cupola, hopefuly two MG's will be enough to keep them from trying anything, they'd be crazy to, even if they are well armed. Also, leave the main gun aiming at them, they wont know if someone is maning the main gun and the coax. Ralph, once the tank is in position turn off the engine, but be ready for anything, if I give the order, immediately turn it on and start moving backwards, and make sure your hatch is closed."

Following Mark's instruction the tank positions presenting the front, with the main gun, coaxial machinegun, an M60, and a M2 50. cal Browning aiming at them. No one would be crazy enough to try anything in front of such an overkill of firepower unless they had a death wish.

"That's close enough!" Mark yells. The men stop, Mark notices one of them has a LAW RPG slung on his back, but he's not worried, even if it could do some damage it's not strong enough to penetrate the front of the tank, and no one would dare to use it while in the open and with the tank aiming all of it's firepower at them. Mark talks trough his headset "Ok, lets hear what these guys want."

"It's alright, I am Captain Boyd, these men are with me. We lost our transport no far from here. Look I don't care what your orders are, but I'm requisitioning your vehicle, my mission has priority, it comes all the way from the top. You will stand down and assist me with everything I need, do you understand, son?"

Mark replies. "Ok, let me consult this with my friends here!" The captain looks irritated by this response, like he was expecting his orders to be followed, not questioned.

Mark talks trough his helmet's mic again, covering his mouth, knowing that the men in fron of him could not hear him. "Who the hell is this guy? Where the hell has he been living in the last few weeks? Does he has any idea of what happened? Unless he knows something that we don't. But even then, how do we know he's telling the truth, what if he only wants our shit, we saw what people would be willing to do for loot back at the camp. And even if he's telling the truth, are we still part of the Army anymore? Technically we 'stole' this tank. I say we kindly refuse his request, what the hell is he going to do? Court martial us?"

The captain's voice sounds more severe "I don't understand what you have to consult, I just given you an order soldier, you will stand down now!"
 
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