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After stopping in NCR to get some ammunition and supplies, the highwayman Kane continued North. Within a few hours, he stumbled upon a caravan.
Crouching behind a pile of rocks, Kane observes the caravan passing through the small valley below him. The caravan consists of the merchant accompanied by six guards in leather armour. The caravan is pulled by two brahmin. Reaching into his backpack, Kane pulls out a Molotov Cocktail. As he lights it with a silver lighter, he tips it upside-down to let the fuel soak into the rag, and hurls it high over his head.
The bottle sparkles in the sun as it arcs towards the caravan. The bottle strikes one of the guards on his left shoulder and breaks, causing him and the two guards near him to burst into flames. Panic erupts among the guards. The three unfortunate ones run screaming until they collapse in a charred heap and the remaining three men point their weapons, searching for a target.
Kane draws his 12 gauge shotgun and slides down the side of the rocky valley. Before the guards see him, he aims at the nearest guard and fires both barrels, the blast blows off the man’s left leg and tears open his lower torso. He’s thrown back and slides down against the caravan, holding his spilt intestines with quivering hands.
The other guards turn around and the nearest one tries to bring up his hunting rifle, but Kane leaps forward and brings down the butt of his shotgun sharply, striking the man right on the temple. He falls to the ground in a lifeless heap.
Discarding his shotgun, Kane draws his assault rifle and fires a single shot, the bullet hits the next guard in the head, blowing a chunk off the top of his skull. The guard behind him is splattered with pieces of brain tissue, and drops his Desert Eagle as the corpse falls back onto him. Kane switches the assault rifle to ‘burst’ and points it at the last guard. The guard sees him and drops to his knees, but before the man could say a word, Kane squeezes the trigger.
The man’s hand literally melts away as he tries to shield himself from the barrage of lead. His face, jaw, and chest deteriorate in much the same way.
With the last guard gone, Kane grabs his shotgun, and walks over to the merchant, who had suffered a leg wound from a stray bullet and was trying to crawl away. As Kane reaches him, the merchant rolls over onto his back.
"T-Take whatever you w-want!" he says.
‘Shuck-Shuck’
Kane pumps a round into his shotgun and points it down at the merchant’s head.
He looks at the merchant coldly.
"Don’t worry. I will."
BOOM...
The blast echoes through the valley and the merchant's brains are splattered across the ground for metres in each direction.
Kane searches the caravan. It is filled with various food supplies and ammunition.
Kane suddenly realises he has no way to carry this much equipment.
A loud sound interrupts his thoughts. Kane looks up to see a cloud of dust heading towards him. When it stops, he realises it is a car. A Chrisalis Highwayman to be exact.
The driver who steps out is dressed in metal armour and carrying a hunting rifle.
He sees the slaughtered caravaners, and then looks at Kane with widened eyes.
"Holy shit! What the fuck happened here?"
"These people were killed" says Kane.
"How?"
"They were shot. By me."
Before the driver can say a word, Kane drops the shotgun and draws a Grease Gun.
"H-Hey, L-Let's just-"
The driver's sentence is cut short by a burst of 45 caliber bullets, puncturing the man's armour and exiting out his back in a spray of blood, bone, and metal fragments.
The man's limp body slumps to the ground.
Kane grabs all his dropped weapons and loots the bodies. Before loading the contents of the caravan into the trunk of his new Highwayman.
Driving north, Kane thinks of all the profit he'll make atttacking caravans, because that's how he makes a living. And why doesn't he just work as a caravan guard? Because, like many others, he loves to kill...
Crouching behind a pile of rocks, Kane observes the caravan passing through the small valley below him. The caravan consists of the merchant accompanied by six guards in leather armour. The caravan is pulled by two brahmin. Reaching into his backpack, Kane pulls out a Molotov Cocktail. As he lights it with a silver lighter, he tips it upside-down to let the fuel soak into the rag, and hurls it high over his head.
The bottle sparkles in the sun as it arcs towards the caravan. The bottle strikes one of the guards on his left shoulder and breaks, causing him and the two guards near him to burst into flames. Panic erupts among the guards. The three unfortunate ones run screaming until they collapse in a charred heap and the remaining three men point their weapons, searching for a target.
Kane draws his 12 gauge shotgun and slides down the side of the rocky valley. Before the guards see him, he aims at the nearest guard and fires both barrels, the blast blows off the man’s left leg and tears open his lower torso. He’s thrown back and slides down against the caravan, holding his spilt intestines with quivering hands.
The other guards turn around and the nearest one tries to bring up his hunting rifle, but Kane leaps forward and brings down the butt of his shotgun sharply, striking the man right on the temple. He falls to the ground in a lifeless heap.
Discarding his shotgun, Kane draws his assault rifle and fires a single shot, the bullet hits the next guard in the head, blowing a chunk off the top of his skull. The guard behind him is splattered with pieces of brain tissue, and drops his Desert Eagle as the corpse falls back onto him. Kane switches the assault rifle to ‘burst’ and points it at the last guard. The guard sees him and drops to his knees, but before the man could say a word, Kane squeezes the trigger.
The man’s hand literally melts away as he tries to shield himself from the barrage of lead. His face, jaw, and chest deteriorate in much the same way.
With the last guard gone, Kane grabs his shotgun, and walks over to the merchant, who had suffered a leg wound from a stray bullet and was trying to crawl away. As Kane reaches him, the merchant rolls over onto his back.
"T-Take whatever you w-want!" he says.
‘Shuck-Shuck’
Kane pumps a round into his shotgun and points it down at the merchant’s head.
He looks at the merchant coldly.
"Don’t worry. I will."
BOOM...
The blast echoes through the valley and the merchant's brains are splattered across the ground for metres in each direction.
Kane searches the caravan. It is filled with various food supplies and ammunition.
Kane suddenly realises he has no way to carry this much equipment.
A loud sound interrupts his thoughts. Kane looks up to see a cloud of dust heading towards him. When it stops, he realises it is a car. A Chrisalis Highwayman to be exact.
The driver who steps out is dressed in metal armour and carrying a hunting rifle.
He sees the slaughtered caravaners, and then looks at Kane with widened eyes.
"Holy shit! What the fuck happened here?"
"These people were killed" says Kane.
"How?"
"They were shot. By me."
Before the driver can say a word, Kane drops the shotgun and draws a Grease Gun.
"H-Hey, L-Let's just-"
The driver's sentence is cut short by a burst of 45 caliber bullets, puncturing the man's armour and exiting out his back in a spray of blood, bone, and metal fragments.
The man's limp body slumps to the ground.
Kane grabs all his dropped weapons and loots the bodies. Before loading the contents of the caravan into the trunk of his new Highwayman.
Driving north, Kane thinks of all the profit he'll make atttacking caravans, because that's how he makes a living. And why doesn't he just work as a caravan guard? Because, like many others, he loves to kill...
