The Last of Us: Last Hope

Rainjay · Feb 24, 2016

Corpus Christi - Texas
Naval Air Station Corpus Christi - Firefly Quarantine Zone
Vehicle Loading Warehouse

A firework? Lauren didn't know what Jane was mumbling about, but the other girl didn't stick around long enough for her to ask. She watched as her form disappeared, and from there, simply waited quietly, counting her breaths. Through a crack in the crate she could see her siblings and the Fireflies walking around, packing what looked like the last of the crates. They tossed around her name a few times before Cait turned, heading towards Lauren's crate.

"She'll be alright," Cait was saying. "She didn't ... She said she didn't want to see us off."

I can't believe they believed that.

Where was that distraction? Lauren could feel her heart beating harder and harder as her sister grew closer. She pressed against the side of the crate, hoping she could flatten herself out of view. In her mind, she was preparing an array of excuses; "I was going to surprise you!" or maybe "I didn't want you to change your mind". She wasn't quite sure if Caitlyn would buy it... But it didn't look like she had a choice. Above, she could see her sister beginning to reach over, casting a shadow over the ground beside where she hid. Swallowing hard, she began to jump forward when Cait jerked back to the sound of popping and explosions. The sky was dotted with faint, but discernible color.

"What was that?!"

"FEDRA?" her sister shouted.

"Shit!"

She heard retreating footsteps and the growing cacophony of disorganized Fireflies connecting en masse to go find the threat. Once the area cleared, Lauren inhaled sharp and ran across the opening towards the vehicles. The thud of her boots on the floor sounded loud, too loud. Quick, quick, quick!

The little nook was mostly empty, filled with a only a few duffle bags. Lauren threw herself inside, pushing around the bags to make space. There was a balled up blanket in the corner, tucked almost underneath the seats. It stank of mildew and gasoline, but she yanked it over herself, rearranging the packs to cover her legs and torso. Her head was angled so that it faced towards the seat, just enough airflow for her to breath. She could barely move.

It wasn't long until the Fireflies returned to the clearing, this time barking orders and moving with more vigor. She heard her sister first, then her brother, and the vehicle came to life. She instantly began to regret not bringing a pillow.

"Let's move out quick."

"What about the others? What if that was FEDRA? We've seen the tricks they play."

"It'll be fine. Everything'll be fine."

"And Lauren?"

"You're too paranoid, Cait."

San Antonio - Texas
Highway Pit Stop
First Day to Salt Lake City

So far, things seemed to be going... okay. They'd decided to stop for the night, settling on a relatively clear stretch of high way. Parked right outside of a large gas station, the group carefully walked through the building, a convenience store that had only been modestly cleared out. Once they were absolutely sure no Infected were lying in wait inside, the began to unpack their things for the night. Everyone had packed clothes, sleeping bags, blankets. It beat out sleeping on the tile.

Caitlyn made her way to the back of the sedan. There wasn't any good place for a shower here, but she'd packed a dry shampoo that Erik had found her a few months back. Hopefully, it'd do the trick. She grabbed for the bag, frowning when she found resistance. It was caught on something. She climbed inside the seat to investigate when she heard a shrill squeak.

"Ow!"

Lauren was sitting up from underneath a grimey, ratted blanket, recoiling from where Caitlyn had just stepped on her hair.

"Lauren? What the hell are you doing here?!"

"I, uhm..."

"For fucks sake, Lauren, whatever happened to staying at Corpus Christi?!"

Lauren sank back. Caitlyn never yelled at her like this. "I'm sorry... I--"

"You're going to get yourself killed out there!"

"What's going on?" Erik's face appearing behind Cait's shoulder, his eyes widening as he noticed Lauren. "Oh for God's sake... Come on. Get up."

Erik grabbed hold of his younger sister's arm, half pulling her from the floor and out onto the street. She stumbled about, her legs having fallen asleep long ago during the eight hour ride. She couldn't bear to look at Caitlyn, whose face was red with fury. Her brother didn't look any happier. There was a long silence between the three before Erik spoke.

"I hope you packed," he said finally, turning to haul his duffel from the sedan before slamming the door. "It'll be a long trip."

ze_kraken · Feb 24, 2016

Good 'Ole Boy

Driving had been a challenge at first. Scott had expected driving to be not too unlike riding a bike: learn it once, never forget. But the moment he sat behind the wheel, he blanked. After clumsily kicking the dilapidated pick-up truck into "drive", testing the engine's power, Scott had come to the conclusion that he was exactly one of four vehicles out there. The odds of him crashing into a fellow driver were astronomically low and, well, there would be no insurance claim to rob him blind if he did.

"You sure you got the hang of this, old timer?" A Firefly had questioned from the ground after Scott had zoomed forward a good ten feet at thirty miles per hour, much to Jane's distress.

"What? Good 'ole boy like me from Nashville? Got no faith in my ability to drive a pick-up?"

The Firefly had replied with a blank stare. Scott attempted explaining the comment to the Firefly, who could not have been any older than twenty, but he that had gotten him nowhere.

"Look - let's just say I drove one of these," he finally concluded, cutting the Firefly off mid-sentence. "Come on, ya'll are worried 'bout FEDRA usin' some fireworks, let's get this started."

"What, back when dinosaurs were around?" Jane questioned from the passenger's seat, snickering. "Didn't know they could drive."

"Ha-ha," Scott grunted. "You'd be surprised - better than you could."

---

"So, you sold these?" Jane questioned an hour later, the group well on their way into the wild.

Scott, halfway into maneuvering past an interstate clogged with cars, pick-up truck bouncing up and down as it ungracefully navigated the ditch on the side of the road, held up a hand to cut Jane off. Up ahead, their "scout vehicle" (the Sedan), flashed its rear lights twice. All clear. He watched as the car turned right, onto the road again, and attempted to up the gear on the truck.

"Gah..." Scott groaned as the engine sputtered out.

"That doesn't sound good."

"Missed popping the clutch, hold up..." Damned stick shifts. "There we go..."

The engine whined in protest at being forced to start up again before roaring back into life. Scott forcefully popped the clutch and shifted gears, hearing the truck's tires whir through the soft earth beneath. With a sudden lurch, the truck jolted forward and tore through the ditch, quickly clearing the barricade and ending up on the other side.

"God damn..." he chuckled, then. "That is why we built 'em with all-wheel drive."

"All wheel what? Wait, no, no. First tell me!" Jane went on, shutting Harry Potter. "You sold these, you know, before they became ugly rust hulks?"

"Yes - I wasn't very good at it admitted. Horrible negotiator," Scott shifted the gear back, without incident, and guided the truck back onto the road. Up ahead, the barricade of cars was wide enough to allow for a narrow column of vehicles.

FEDRA?

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when you went to a store, price for bread was the price for bread. Couldn't really haggle it up or down. Just scan the barcode and go. Cars, well, nobody really prices them. They give a starting point, and then the customer and the dealer argue about it. Your grandmother said I was too honest to be a salesman," Scott shrugged. "Either way, guess I should count myself lucky. For a while, right when everything was going south, I got to drive a Corvette."

"Why the hell," Scott raised an eyebrow as Jane exclaimed, "Does one car matter over another?! Don't they just need to go vroom vroom?"

"Couldn't tell 'ya kiddo," Scott laughed. "But 'lemme tell you, this car, this car was something else..."

"Did it have all-wheel drive, too?"

You Lasted a Day?

"For fucks sake, Lauren, whatever happened to staying at Corpus Christi?!"

Jane jolted up at the sudden exclamation, blearily scanning for the source of the commotion. She must've fallen asleep early, evident by Harry Potter collapsed against her chest, still open. Bitterly musing that she'd forgotten what page she had been, her eyes widened as she saw Lauren being dragged out of the pick-up truck.

Shit, Lauren!

Her father, sitting in the flat bed of the truck, not too far off to her left, only glanced up and watched as Lauren was berated by her siblings. As she looked around, Jane noticed that just about everyone in the camp was watching the Wrights' family drama. Her father shot Jane a look telling her he knew, to which she responded by finding a sudden interest in the book tucked against her chest, cheeks flushed red. Would he tell Caitlyn? She didn't want to be yelled at for Lauren's inability to hide. For a moment she lay where, heart thumping frantically against her chest, waiting to hear her father's footsteps. None came. Cautiously, the girl peeked out from the upper edge of the book at her father. He returned the look and offered her a subdued grin, pressing his index finger to his lips.

The actual fuck? This doesn't count as "stupid"?

"Come on," he muttered, standing up. "Go help out your friend. I'll get Cait and Erik off her case for a bit."

Jane sprang up and scuttled over to where Lauren knelt hunched over her bedroll. With the yelling at its close, the camp had returned its attention to keeping watch or filling the dull hours before sleep came. She gingerly tapped Lauren on the shoulder and sat beside her cross-legged.

"You suck at not getting caught, you know that?" Jane smiled. "Could've made it, like, two days before I got caught! I've got skills."

She shot a tentative glance over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of her father discussing something with the other Wrights.

"Should I shut up?"

A Clockwork Tangerine · Feb 26, 2016

The fireworks turned out NOT to be a FEDRA or hunter decoy. Nobody knew what it had been, though some guessed a naïve and reckless attempt to send the fireflies off in a parting gesture gone horribly wrong. They were damn lucky they hadn't been swarmed by infected. Nothing killed a 'party' quite like shrieking spore heads. After the tension died down, everyone decided to get the hell out of dodge while the getting was still good, and Colton clicked the safety back on his gun before sticking it in the holster at his hip, running a hand through his hair as he looked around to see if Jon had showed up yet. He seemed to be running late. The teenager wasn't sure if he should risk going to find him, or if he should just hop in one of the vehicles that still had room. Colton was still debating this when one of the trucks zoomed forward at a good click before jerking to a stop. A quick glance up at the driver revealed it to be none other than the newcomer and his daughter: Scott and Jane. Colton coughed to disguise a laugh and looked at Scott with a bemused grin.

"You sure you got the hang of this, old timer?" he asked.

"What? Good 'ole boy like me from Nashville? Got no faith in my ability to drive a pick-up?"

At this, Colton's features dissolved into a purely clueless expression. He knew the man was trying to make a joke, but even when Scott tried telling him what he meant, the knowledge was lost on him. It was simply a different time.

"Look—let's just say I drove one of these. Come on, ya'll are worried 'bout FEDRA usin' some fireworks, let's get this started."

Colton's cheeks bloomed with color and he gave an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck once. "I'll have to take your word for it," he murmured, though in the back of his mind he wondered just how good the Nashville boy's driving skills actually were. I suppose I'm not one to judge. All I know about driving cars is that people occasionally drive them. The teenager nodded at Scott and walked over toward the last of the vehicles, stowing his pack in the back. That firework debacle had been pretty embarrassing, but you could never be certain what people would do to throw you off your game, and that probably included FEDRA, whether they were professionally trained or not. The element of surprise could go a long way. Especially against a less-organized group like theirs. Hell, the majority of the people going on this road trip hadn't even worked together before, and two of them were teenagers, himself included.

"This has real potential to end in utter disaster," he mused. "But hey . . . I guess that's life."

"Couldn't spare me the truck, could 'ya?" came a familiar voice.

A relieved grin broke out on the teenager's face and he chuckled, shaking his head once. He'd never been so glad to hear that southern drawl before.

"You know, I was beginning to think you really were thinking twice about asking me to come along," he said as he pulled out a couple of the 'wood-glued' travel bars the chef flies had prepared for the road trip. "And judging by your fashionably late appearance, maybe even three times."

"'Gotta admit, bein' 'round butterflies for any more than 'n hour is bad 'nuff," Jon scratched at his beard, looking Colton over. "So close? No. Reckon this lot'll taper off once we hit Salt Lake, and be damned if I'm 'gonna let you go off 'n do somethin' stupid without me."

"Aww, you do care," Colton cracked, reaching out to grab the last of the supplies and then stowing it with the others. He slid the back door closed and took a step back, quirking an eyebrow before turning to the older man.

"You know what they say 'bout assumin', Colton?" Jon interjected, grinning lopsidedly. "Makes an ass 'outta you and me."

"Ever the scholar, Jon," the teenager replied, shifting his gaze back to the vehicle. "Soo . . . uhh . . . I don't know jack about driving them, but it seems to me like this is the kind of rig a mom would use to haul a bunch of shrieking kids to . . . you know. Baseball, or whatever the heck they used to go to." At this, Colton raised a hand. "And before you say anything, I'm nineteen. Though some might argue that's no guarantee I'm an adult."

"Can't say I remember what mom drove me and my brother 'round in," the older man grudgingly allowed, moving to place his pack in the trunk of the van. "But I remember the baseball. Borin' game, can't say I miss it too much."

He paused, looking up from his pack at Colton, eyes narrowing in a squint.

"But I think 'ya should be the one to drive. 'Yer not a Firefly 'til you learn how. Even Cait's 'lil sister knows how."

"Boring, huh? I thought it was . . . " the teenager snapped his fingers, searching for the phrase in his brain. "America's game. Yeah, that's it. At least that's what Rudy used to say. That old guy could really flap his gums." Colton scratched his head. Then stared. "Wait. You want me to drive? Do you actually want us to get where we're going in one piece?"

He couldn't help but think of Scott, and his face wrinkled a bit. Then there was Lauren. "Am I really the only one in the camp who can't drive?" Colton huffed. "What am I doing with my life?"

Jon found it difficult not to laugh as Colton worked himself up into a storm.

"This is why 'ya need me, ain't it? 'Yer 'gonna see some hunter, and 'yer 'gonna fall right into 'is ambush. Can't say if'n I know Laurie can drive, but don't make her any more 'n of a Firefly 'an you."

The gruff man ducked out from the trunk's lid and slammed it down, shooting Colton a shrug and a grin. "If the others've kept their stuff on 'em this long, too bad for 'em. Come on, 'yer ridin' shotgun."

Colton snorted. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he said, thinking about what had come after. Doesn't make her any more of a firefly than me? . . . Guess we'll see about that. The teenager eyed Jon as the older man slammed the trunk, giving him a small salute. "Aye, let's get this show on the road." He noticed Jon heading for the driver's side and let out a breath, thankful they were saving that bit of firefly training for another day. Opening the passenger-side door, Colton paused and looked around, drumming his hands lightly on the roof.

"Come on, 'yer not bein' paid by the hour."

"Christ, Jon, can you not let me be sentimental for one second?" the teenager groaned, though there was no real rebuke in his tone. "Fine. Goodbye, fireflies. It's been real." With that, the kid hopped in and shut the door, pursing his lips for a moment before looking at Jon. "What's a shotgun have to do with mom mobiles?"

"It's where the moms kept their children-shootin' guns," Jon remarked dryly, fetching the keys from where they lay hidden in the driver seat sun screen. In one fluid motion, he stuck the key into the ignition and turned it. The engine whined, sputtered, and shut down. Grunting, he tried again, and nodded in satisfaction as the engine spurred into life. "If one of 'em was a 'lil brat, she'd pull it out..." A pause. "And boom!"

"Wow," Colton said, the single word drawn out and infused with about as much awe as he could muster. "That is some active imagination you've got. Just in case you get any bright ideas, remember: I'm not some drooling kid and you're not a trigger-happy mom." The teenager looked at Jon hard. "Least not to my knowledge."

"I'm a man 'o many talents, Colton," the older man stated, voice drenched in mysticism. "Only some of 'em do I reveal 'ta you."

As the column ahead began to move, Jon shifted gear into 'drive' and eased into motion, trailing behind Scott's truck.

"Speakin' 'o talents I've got and 'ya don't, this is what we call a gear shift..."

+++

The drive wasn't nearly as bad as Colton expected. Jon gave him lessons for a good portion of the trip, but at least he hadn't made him actually do the driving like he'd initially suggested. It all seemed pretty straightforward. Gear shift, gas, brake, horn that you never wanted to use unless you were suicidal, turn signal that was pretty much pointless given the current state of traffic flow, et cetera, et cetera. The teenager had munched on an energy bar, giving Jon shit (which the older man happily returned) until they'd reached their first stop outside of a gas station, which surprisingly still had a few odds and ends to salvage.

Once he and Jon had unpacked and settled down, Colton realized he couldn't sleep. All his old insecurities were starting to creep in like parasites. Jane was reading a book. Caitlyn was headed back to the vehicle she and Erik had taken. Jon appeared to be sharpening his machete. Colton folded his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe I should have brought a book, he thought. He hefted a sigh and glanced over at Jon, noticing a dark-red tattoo on the older man's left forearm that looked like claw marks. Colton quirked an eyebrow and sat up, rifling through his pockets for his smokes.

"What's the ink for, pops? Is that supposed to symbolize your many talents? Or did you lose a bet?"

Before Jon could answer, a loud commotion suddenly sounded from where the vehicles were parked. All he realized at first was that Cait was yelling, so Colton's initial reaction was to reach for his gun before his eyes locked onto the real problem: Lauren was standing there. Colton's eyes bulged momentarily. Lauren?! Christ, what the hell was she thinking? He felt sick to his stomach. The fears he had that somebody (or more than one somebody) was going to die on this trip increased tenfold. Lauren had always been kind to him despite her sister's warnings. What if something happened to her? And how the hell did she manage to sneak into the damn vehicle anyway? That's when the light went on. The fireworks back at base camp suddenly made sense. And he was pretty sure he knew who was responsible too. The teenager cast a quick glance at Jane, whose guilt was only proven by the simple fact that she was cowering behind her Harry Potter book. When the culprit ran off to comfort Lauren, Colton ran a hand down his face and let out a shaky breath before crossing his arms over his knees. He spoke to Jon without looking at him.

"Would this qualify as a 'shotgun' moment?"

(Credit to @J_"Kraken")

Rainjay · Feb 29, 2016

Albuquerque, Texas
Sixth Day to Salt Lake City

"On the sixth day of driving, my true love gave to me--"

"Cait, please."

"You're the one who declined to bring music, so I'm providing my own. Is that such a crime?"

Someone, she couldn't remember who, had told her that driving was like riding a bike; once you learned, you never forgot. That being said, Cait had never learned to ride a bike. Now, she was still having trouble getting used to this 'driving' thing. It was simple enough when she first sat in a car and learned that left is left and right is right, there are some fun brakes and an accelerator, mirrors, gear shifts, the whole she'bang. Then, she had to start the car and drive.

She hadn't been that bad at it at the time, but that was years ago. She hadn't driven much since. Driving for eight hours a day was taxing, considering it was pretty much an intense obstacle course. Given FEDRA military training courses and driving, she would pick the former. At least she knew what to expect. There were a billion potholes, giant heaps of wreckage, cracks in the dirt, fallen lights, and even corpses blocking their path. There was nothing like the sound of crunching bones as you drove down the street.

So, Cait had taken to singing whatever stupid song came to mind. Music players and batteries to go with them were in short supply, but she'd heard her fair share of music in the past. First she went with 'pop' songs, the ones with uplifting beats and catchy lyrics. Then she moved on to rock, and from there, what Erik called R&B. Eventually, she ran out of actual songs and had to revert to holiday tunes. Her family--when her parents were alive, anyway--would sing holiday songs each year. Every Christmas, whether or not there was anything to give, the folks insisted on singing each song they remembered, tapping out the rhythm on the walls and tables. Her mother made a tradition out of decorating their apartment with scraps while singing the Twelve Days of Christmas. The entire song. All day. Repeatedly.

It was now, during mindless driving hour number eight of the day, that it came back to her.

"It's a crime against my humanity. My ears are bleeding." Erik said from beside her.

"Oh, noo, you poor pathetic thing. You can walk if you'd like?"

He just sighed.

He'd mostly fallen silent since San Antonio. The group had only stayed the night, but it had been tense; at least between the Wrights. Cait had managed to forgive Lauren. After all, it was what she would have done, and Lauren could only be commended for that... After a good scolding, first. But Erik had become avoidant. He was always lurking nearby, Cait had noticed, but was never close enough to talk. Not that she or Lauren particularly tried to instigate conversation.

And so, between the three of them, only the shortest of words were exchanged during the past six days.

It was kind of painful, though Cait didn't want to admit it. She and Erik had always been thick as thieves as kids. She would run out and get into trouble, and he would follow behind, carrying along whatever they needed to not die on their daily adventure. If it wasn't for him, she would have turned, died, broken her spine, or a million things before ever reaching the Fireflies. Even on their trip there, he was her constant companion. Not exactly a guide, per say, but a second pair of eyes, of hands, someone else who knew his way around the world and wasn't afraid to go with her wherever, whenever. He was still here, of course, a guardian angel to his younger sisters, but when he was this stoic and wall-like, it felt wrong.

Of course, she kept singing.

He was doing his best to ignore it, and Lauren had left the car entirely. She was now squeezing into whatever space anyone else offered her instead, mostly sleeping the car rides away. She apparently had motion sickness.

"On the sixth day of driving, my true love gave to me... Six sh--What's that?"

She exchanged a glance with Erik, slowing down the car as they approached the edges of the city--Albuquerque. It was apparently halfway between Corpus and their destination, unmapped and allegedly empty. It would be breeze to get through, except for the major obstacle course it presented and the possibility of lingering Infected. Being one of the most heavily populated cities in the states before the infection hit, it posed a risk, but Fireflies had reportedly been in and out of the city before without incident. It shouldn't be much different for them.

... Except where an empty road should have been, they saw three strangers, armed with rifles and little else. They were obviously not infected by any means, nor where they FEDRA. The group could easily have just run them down. They were almost standoffish in nature, even though they were being approached by several vehicles of dual occupancy. Cait doubted they'd have moved even if a tank came rolling at them.

But instead they slowed, Erik sticking his hand out the window and waving.

"Is that... supposed to mean something?"

"Well I'm not about to stick my head out the window and make a target of it,"

[question=goldenrod]It's been six days since the group left Corpus Christi and they have finally reached the halfway point of their so far uninterrupted journey. Although, now three men and women bar their way into Albuquerque proper. Unassuming in nature and only carrying rifles without much else on their persons to see, they stand tall and stare down the convoy approaching them. For such run down looking people, they sure are brave.

Two men are standing beside a woman, none of which whom speak until prompted. If you were to ask, they live here, a large group of survivors who occupy a large portion of the city that they've cleared from infected and fortified. They wouldn't mind welcoming these Fireflies into their home for rest, given they don't cause any trouble.

Are you going to speak to them? Shoot at them? Leave?[/question]

Freamon · Mar 1, 2016

Jack Graham - Road into Albuquerque

Why do I do this to myself? Am I deranged? Probably, but still, this is fucked up. These were the recurring thoughts of Jack all throughout his trek from Oklahoma City to Albuquerque. The journey was relatively short compared to ones he had undertaken in the past, but still, the sheer distance between the two cities was definitely nothing to scoff at. He was running low on supplies and hadn't gotten any luck scavenging during this particular journey. Luckily, he was more or less there and his contact back in OC had promised Jack that his friends in Albuquerque would give him adequate supplies for his journey back. Typically he would have laughed and told the contact to go fuck himself. He wasn't stupid enough to wager such a thing on people he had never met, but this particular contact had always been trustworthy. Maybe even a friend, but that was a dangerous word in and out of the quarantine zones. Still though, these guys had an entire fucking city to scavenge. Sparing enough supplies for one dude should be no problem. He hoped it would be no problem. He wasn't looking forward to the possibility of killing or much more likely getting killed by his friends, friends.

He could see Albuquerque now, and sincerely hoped a man would be waiting on the outskirts of the city for him like he'd been promised. If he had to go scouting through a damn city for them he might have to kill one on sheer principle. He chuckled to himself, his feet aching and stomach grumbling. The shit he would do for some ration cards... Or more truthfully, out of boredom. He stopped a minute, resting his spear against a rusted out car and pulling his Glock from it's holster. He checked the magazine and quickly counted eleven rounds. Slipping it back in he pulled the slide back and saw the round in the chamber he already knew was there. He knew exactly how much ammo he had, but this was like a form of meditation for him. It calmed him down and at the same time readied him for the violence that was to inevitably come, not just practically, but mentally in a way. Next was Omar. He dug the last three slugs out of his bag and loaded each one into the shotgun, readying the weapon and clicking the safety on before sliding it around to his back. Done, he picked up his spear and continued on.

About an hour later he caught up to what appeared to be a convoy on the road into Albuquerque. Had they been looking for him? Upon getting closer he spotted the three culprits who had apparently stopped this strange party. Did they assume that these people in the vehicles were who Joshua had sent? Either way, he couldn't go back, so forward it was. He walked casually past the small convoy, glancing into each vehicle he passed and doing his best to look as non-threatening as possible so as not to get his head blown off. Approaching the three who were pointing rifles at the lead vehicle he dropped his spear to the ground and raised his hands in the air.

"You gruff aggressors with the group in the city? I'm Jack, Joshua sent me with your mail... May I approach?" Jack spoke, rather confidently for a man in front of a possible firing squad.

"You may." The woman said back, lowering her rifle. The men didn't lower theirs. Jack took a few cautious steps forward, coming close enough now that he could kill them with his spear had he not dropped it behind him.

"I need to go into my bag to get the letter. Can I do that?"

"You can."

"Thank you." Jack took his bag off, placing it on the ground and crouching down to go through it, quickly finding the letter and handing it to the woman. She quickly opened and read it with what was seemingly eagerness. Finished, she passed it to her companion.

"For that Joshua promised that you would give me some supplies for my journey back. That a problem?"

"Nope. No problem son. You'll have to come with us back to our camp though, that's obviously where we keep most of our supplies." The woman spoke, once again. She seemed to be the leader of this small party.

"All right. I could use a decent rest anyway. Walking for a week and a half ain't no picnic... I'm going to put my bag back on and pick up my spear... These people here with your crew?" He asked, pointing to the vehicles behind him.

ze_kraken · Mar 2, 2016

The Night Before

Lauren sniffled, smoothing her hand over the bedroll before sitting back on her heels to look at Jane. She hadn't expected their camaraderie would follow them through the end of their plan; but the girl beside her looked genuine. Maybe this all went beyond the quest for Harry Potter. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she tried to smile. "No, no, it's alright."

She followed Jane's gaze to where her father stood with Cait and Erik. Whatever he said, he managed to calm the two Wrights down considerably. Caitlyn seemed even to be apologizing. "You'll have to give your father my thanks," she said. She spoke softly still, even though the apparent threat had passed. "They're not usually like this..." With a sigh, she shifted so she sat on the ground beside Jane.

"And to be fair," she shot Jane a look, "I didn't exactly have time to find the best of hiding spots. Plus, she stepped on me! Honestly, Cait can't tread lightly even if she tried. You can hear her coming from a mile away because she throws all of her weight into her step. All of that weight was on my hair. Unfortunately my invisibility cloak made me look like a floor."

"But that's beside the point. I didn't get a chance to thank you for helping me. It doesn't sound like they're going to take me back so... Things worked out." This time her smile was real, unwavering. "So, thanks."

"Well," Jane reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a Roman candle. "Can't say no to free fireworks. And you might 'wanna try a better cloak of invisibility than a few blankets in the future - maybe something Cait'll never step on."

The girl paused, then sighed, looking down at the overpass they had crossed to reach the gas station. In the darkness, she could barely spot the ruined cars that dotted the highway below. It felt normal. No ugly reminders of what had been, just the crackle of a fire, the rustling of wind, and the sky above.

"When I, uh," the girl stammered. "When my dad and I left Atlanta, after that... Clicker? Yeah, clicker ate someone next door, I didn't think I'd ever like life outside the city. I mean, sure, soldiers were royal asshats and rats were a more reliable source of food than ration lines, but I never would have thought the outside could be tranquil...It..It's nice. Just a shame it can't always be like this..."

Lauren listened quietly. Their conversation had taken an turn she hadn't expected. What was Jane looking for here? Lauren wasn't the best in the ways of comfort, or empathy. Having only left the safety of a quarantined zone once, now twice, in her entire life, and for the briefest of periods, she had little to relate to. Her siblings had always made sure that she had food to eat, clothes to wear, things to do. What was so different about being outside versus inside?

But she doubted that was the response Jane as looking for. After she finished speaking, Lauren shrugged, picking at a loose thread on her shirt.

"You don't hear people talk like that a lot," she said after a few moments. She glanced up at Jane before looking back down at her hands. "It's not always tranquil. But... I guess you know that already..."

"It's like this with the Fireflies, most days. Lately it's been all noise and movement, but usually it's quiet, peaceful... Except when Cait comes into the room." She shrugged. "Nobody really bothers you, there, unless you're due for patrol or left a mess somewhere. At night, you can hear a pin drop. And the stars are really bright."

Dropping the hem of her shirt, she leaned back on her hands, looking up towards the sky. A few stars were just visible through the grimy windows of the station, poking out through heavy clouds. "My parents told me once that it was almost impossible to see the stars. The city light and smog blocked them out. And these planes and helicopters would be up there, too, and look like stars, only they weren't. They really liked that about the outbreak. They could see the stars everywhere."

"I wish it could stay like this, too," she said, smiling. "No infected. No need for Fireflies, or FEDRA. Just people, living out here."

"Yeah, can't deny that view," Jane replied softly. "Back in the zone, I had this friend, Lydia. We'd sneak out every night, watch the stars. You had to do it at the right time, though, right when the lights went out."

She laughed then, adding. "One time, our sergeant-at-arms had these cigarettes one of the Fireflies knew how to make. Made it from herbs and stuff he grew on his balcony, rolled it up using paper and some thin cloth. Really shitty stuff, but one night, Lydia shows up with two of them, says that it can't be that bad...Boy was she wrong. I don't think I've ever coughed that much in my life. Sergeant the next day was homicidal, and I thought for sure we were going to get killed... Cait's little outburst doesn't even come close to describing it."

Lauren laughed too, imagining it in her mind. She'd done things like that in Houston. Among the kids, most of which didn't really want to be spending their days becoming mini FEDRA puppets, it had become sport to see who could piss of their handlers the most and get away largely unscathed. "Oh, yeah. She doesn't punish as hard, either. Smack on the wrist, chores. Although... I'd take any sergeant-at-arms over my sister when she's screaming."

The pair sat in silence for a few more minutes, eyes on the stars.

"Do you ever wonder?" she broke the silence suddenly, turning abruptly to face Jane again. "Like, why we're here? Why all this happened--whyany of this happened at all. The chances that a planet, our planet, created all this life... Either it's all predestined, or we're incredibly lucky. Really incredibly lucky."

"All those stars, all those planets, and for all we know, we're the only ones... And we let ourselves get screwed over by zombies, of all things. But," her head tilted to the side as she watched the sky again, "We still keep going. For silly things, too."

"Which really begs the question: why are we here? Risking my neck out for something this stupid isn't going to bring my parents back. It's not going to bring about miracles. There's no fame, or fortune, or anything. Who of us actually believe something is going to come out of all of this? Except for my sister, I guess. She knows why she's here."

She laughed softly. "Sorry, am I getting too existential? Erik likes to say that I belonged with the Greek philosophers and not here. He's joking, but he's right to say I talk too deeply. It's the books, I guess."

"Too existential, yeah," Jane agreed. "But does this mean Harry Potter gets weird from here on out? I mean, I don't already buy the magic bit, but come on!"

Decent Folks?

"I don't think this is a good idea, Scott."

"What is, then, Abby? We aren't safe here anymore - that guy was dead for, what, four weeks before he broke into another apartment, killed four people, and then infected a soldier? Yeah, no, I'm done. We've already had our fair deal of shit gone wrong with soldiers..."

Scott glanced down at Jane, curled up on a moth-eaten couch, deep in sleep. She'd crept out from her barracks again, not that he minded in the slightest. She wasn't as safe in the apartment, the objective part of his mind told him, but he felt better knowing she was within reach.

"If you aren't coming for my sake, then come for hers. She adores you, Abby. I've already got Walter coming along - we'll go out on patrol, I'll check in with Jane's sergeant, say I'm showing her the ropes of patrolling, we'll get Walter for 'questioning', then make a run for it. We've got a Firefly contact waiting right at the gates to drop us off some supplies - a rifle for you, some food, some meds. It'll work. I know it will."

The woman paused, then looked at Jane, back to Scott, then out the dirt-matted window.

"Fuck it. Sure."

---

"Well, so much for a quiet trip," Scott muttered, easing the pick-up truck into a stop behind the Wrights' car.

Up ahead, three armed individuals stood, staring down their little convoy. About to leave the car, hands raised, Scott flinched as another individual walked straight by his car, offering a shrewd glance into the vehicle's interior: he looked innocent enough, but it tugged at Scott's suspicion. Had they just driven into an ambush? FEDRA wasn't known to ambush - they usually outclassed anyone in a straight fight - but bandits weren't known for their straightforward approach. When the man walked forward, talked with the three armed strangers, he relaxed. An ambush that required a confirmation was either so pathetic they could weather on through, or there was no foul play involved.

"Hey Jane," he turned to the girl, fast asleep in the passenger seat, and nudged her gently. "Hey kiddo, you know where the revolver is?"

"Uh, dad?" She asked, rubbing blearily at her eyes. "Why do you need to know where it is?"

"I know where it is, do you know?"

"Yeah...Why? Is it - oh."

"Just in case, you grab it, duck down, got it? Don't shoot unless they get up to the car. And-"

Jane's brow furrowed. "Yeah, yeah, shoot until they stop moving."

Scott nodded, opened the car door, offered a glance at Jane, fidgeting with the revolver (stowed away in the glove compartment), and stepped out onto the interstate. To his left, cars clouded the road, with the stretch of highway leading directly into Albuquerque left untouched entirely. It reminded him too much of the initial panic, with cars leaving by the thousands, all trying to make themselves the ones to get out of town above all else. He was uncomfortably aware of a decomposed skeleton hunched over the concrete divider as he strode forward, hands rooted firmly on his head. When he came within earshot of the armed strangers, and the would-be add-on, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

"Good to see a friendly face," he offered, slowly placing his hands at his side. "I-"

The armed man raised a hand to cut him off.

"Jacket off, lift up your shirt," he ordered curtly.

Scott obliged, kicking the jacket towards him.

"Unless you're interested in a pair of reading glasses and an interstate map, don't think that'll be much good to you," Scott shrugged. "This crew here's Firefly: we want a path through her, quick and clean, and we'll be 'outta your hair. All we need is a day here to rest up, we'll be on our way."

"Thought you fuckers were runnin' down this way, what, like six months ago?" One of the women asked, gesturing towards the unarmed stranger beside Scott. "You aren't with this errand boy here? Can't say that makes me any more willin' to let you through-"

"Couldn't tell you what Fireflies were up to six months ago. I'm not official aligned with 'em, but I can tell 'ya, they'll find a way through here with or without your consent, so I'd make it easy and let 'em through. We aren't askin' for anything, just safe passage. Surely we can come to somethin' there, yeah?"

"We'll see."

Credit to @Rainjay

Rainjay · Mar 14, 2016

Albuquerque, Texas
Sixth Day to Salt Lake City

"What's he doing?"

"Bargaining? Getting our way through? Whatever he's saying, it's working."

"Or, he could be buying bullets through our skulls."

"Cait, please be quiet." Erik sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I'm sure he knows what he's doing. He made it to Christi in one piece, didn't he?"

Cait looked away towards the window. "It's not particularly hard to do..." she grumbled. Her knuckles were white, hands gripping the wheel of the car, foot on the accelerator. Worst case scenario, she'd ram 'em. It wasn't like they could run; Lauren wasn't with them. She'd be leaving her sister to the crows. This is why we don't separate..

"How many are you? We'll need everyone to come out for a quick search. You'll understand," the woman on the road told Scott. It didn't take very long for the group to hustle into the road. Caitlyn was unwilling, half-dragged out by Erik. Lauren stood with Jane across from her siblings, shifting anxiously on her feet. In all, the Fireflies outnumbered the few ill equipped guards, but still the strangers projected an air of confidence and control, patting down jackets before moving on to the vehicles. Perhaps they had to reason to be confident, though Caitlyn couldn't see why.

"There'll be guns in and ammo in the trucks," Erik called before either of the guards began their search. "And food. Nonperishables."

The woman grunted before pulling open the doors to one vehicle and rummaging around inside. "Planning quite the trip."

"We've a long ways to go. We're hoping to find a place to settle up north," Erik replied. He and Cait exchanged glances. It wasn't a complete lie; just white. "Hoping to get there before winter breaks. This is the quickest route."

The woman broke the following lengthy silence by slamming the door of the last vehicle shut before stomping across the concrete back towards the ground. Her eyes were narrowed slits, almost squinty eyed, like she could see better through them that way. With both arms crossed against her chest, she looked from each person to the next before leaning towards the guard beside her. They exchanged a few words--inaudible to the Fireflies--and then she spoke. "Let them in. Might as well bring them to the Town."

"The Town?" Cait breathed, glancing up at Erik. "We've hit a whole settlement?"

"Seems like it. Let's go. Get Lauren with us,"

A whole settlement. She'd seen small groups of scavengers, FEDRA cargo, travelers walking by, but very rarely had she seen something big. Their troupe was as big as it comes. But as they followed the guard into the city, vehicles crawling at a snails pace--the guard refused to ride--they could see the signs of life. It was subtle at first. The road and sidewalks were clean, lanterns were propped up against fences, large bonfires dotted the landscape. And then they began to see people. Most were curious as they saw the convoy pass. They carried baskets and dried meat and old bricks and wooden planks, walking along the pavement in the same direction as they moved. Further on, they began to see housing; the deeper they traveled into the city, the better they looked. Instead of broken walls and siding covered in mildew, they looked... livable. They probably were lived in, Cait realized with a start. Plumes of smoke were even coming from the backyards.

It didn't live up to the glory of the city that originally was, not by a long shot. But the smaller buildings were patched up, and lived in. People paced around the streets as if there were nothing unusual about it all. Most amazingly was the lack of anything resembling the quarantine zones. No stiff backed guards or ration lines, stink and grime and filth. No angry shouting, or screaming. No one seemed to be mourning, or even sad.

The stopped in a parking lot adjacent to what happened to be the center of 'the Town'. There were a few cars there, more beaten down than their own, and several man and women were working on them, parts and tools sitting on the cracked concrete.

"Nobody seems surprised," Lauren commented from the back of the car. "Oh, don't mind us, we're just a couple trucks and an armored car driving through the city! Don't mind if we run someone over by accident! Just the slightest bit freakish, don't you think?"

"Maybe this is a common route? It would explain the search; and why they let that other guy in without a fuss. Who do you think he is?" Caitlyn said. The man who had spoken first to the guards when entering the city had walked with the guard. What a coincidence, that they arrived at the same time.

[question=goldenrod]After everyone gathers, the guard tells you that you'll be allowed to stay overnight. They have proper shelter, and will even share their food, provided that you decide to join them for their community meals. He gives you a few directions, and describes the boundaries of the Town, though fails to explain the origins of a settlement of such relative greatness. There is a catch to their kindness, though, which he mentions just before leaving to show you where you'll be staying. "We need some help," he says, before asking for the leaders of your group to talk to him that night as dinner. What does he mean? Do you trust him?[/question]

Freamon · Mar 15, 2016

Jack Graham - The Town

Jack wasn't sure what he was expecting exactly, but this group definitely wasn't it. Usually when he had to deliver a message or some other small package it was to a relatively small group of survivors who were in whatever place he had to meet them temporarily whilst they got their shit together. This group definitely wasn't that. As they made their journey into the city there were signs of life all over the place and the extent of this group's impact on the city had him wondering what exactly he had delivered to them in that letter. First rule of the damn job though. Never open the package. Fuck curiosity.

The people with the convoy weren't a part of the Albuquerque group. They were Fireflies, a group chasing goals that had the added benefit of being idealistic. Like everyone who has a great capacity for violence but still clings to certain morality, they were a dangerously unpredictable group. Jack had personally met Fireflies that had helped him out quite a bit with supplies, directions through a dangerous tunnel or building and warnings of spores and of bandits. He had met others who shot on sight, although to be fair after travelling for a long while and having to kill up close a few times he did end up looking pretty brutal and bandit like. Still, whatever their reasons, unpredictable was not good when it came to keeping your life.

Upon arriving at their apparent destination one of the natives gave the Fireflies directions around The Town and Jack made sure to listen in. Once the man was done with their group Jack approached him.

"I still need the supplies I was promised. I'd prefer to get them sooner rather than later so I can sort my supplies out before I leave, if that's alright."

"It is, now that we're here. Follow me."

Jack walked alongside the man, continuing to observe the comings and goings of the settlement as they traveled through it. He'd rather live someplace like here than in one of the zones. He imagined one would have more freedom with their life in a place like this.

"That spear… It seems like it'd be more annoying than helpful." The man spoke, nodding towards the weapon that rarely left Jack's hand.

"It is, until it's not."

"I hear that."

A couple of minutes later they came to a small boarded up building with two armed guards out front, Jack's escort greeted them before turning back to him.

"You'll have to wait out here. What do you want in the way of supplies? I was told to give you what you wanted, as long as it's just enough for one person like you said."

"That's fair. I need ammo. 12 gauge shells, buckshot preferably. 9mm rounds too, and if you're feeling generous or have any lying around, I could use a spare magazine for a Glock 17. Aside from that I need the usual long journey crap. Couple bottles of water and some food that won't go bad too quick."

"I'll see what I can do."

Several minutes later the man returned with most of what Jack had asked for. Unless he ran into some serious problems it should have quite easily been enough to make the journey back.

"That's a lot of what you asked for there. Glock 17 magazine with 14 rounds in. 6 buckshot shells. Couple bottles of water, some somewhat freshly made hardtack, a bit of rice, and some other canned shit that should still be edible."

"That's what I need."

"Need, sure, but if you want a lot more for your journey back you should come have dinner with us tonight. Help out with the thing with the Fireflies. I know with your occupation you've got all the right skills."

"Might be something I'd be interested in. What thing?"

"That's not for me to tell you. Go chill with the Fireflies. Wait for the dinner later and get yourself on that job. Do that, you'll be on your way back with two, three times what you've got there, and you'll have a safe place here in the future, and I guarantee it."

"I might just do that… I'll see you." Jack smirked, packing his new supplies into his bag and heading off to find where the other foreigners were staying. Best to know the people you work with.

ze_kraken · Mar 19, 2016

New Recruit

The Fireflies had established a small encampment on a relatively empty stretch of road on one of the Town's outermost fringes. Their cars were situated in a loose circle, doors opened inward and propped open with cloth and sticks, the ends nailed down with spikes in a sort of miniature tent city. The bed of the pick-up truck had been cleared out for another Firefly to sleep in, several boxes stacked high to act as a sort of barrier should someone decide to sneak creep up. Few were willing to go and socialize with the residents of the Town, and an uneasy silence hung over the group as they waited for this mysterious offer at dinner.

"What if they've got her," Jane muttered.

Her and Scott currently sat perched with their legs hanging out of the truck's doors, the seats folded down to act as an uncomfortable bed. When they were at least propped up by spare blankets, the hard edges weren't quite so bad, but Scott found himself longing for the worn-and-torn mattress back in Corpus Christi. Even just two nights sleeping in a bed had gotten him accustomed to the feeling again.

"You know, that immune girl the Fireflies were all pissy about," she went on.

"Think if I tell 'em you're immune, you'll stop talkin' 'bout things liable to get these folks angry at you?" Scott asked, eyes flitting over to Jane, who lay contently reading Harry Potter, her head hanging upside down across the head rest of the passenger seat.

"I 'dunno," his daughter offered him a cheeky smile. "Even though I'm not, I think that just gives me...carte.. blanche?"

"It's blanche," Scott corrected, double-taking. "Where did you learn that one?"

"Lauren. Said she read it in a book."

"Do you know what it means?" He asked, curiosity piqued.

Jane rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated. "Of course I know what it is! Sheesh, old man."

"Oh? Why don't you-" Scott paused, staring out the grimy truck window. The stranger from earlier was approaching their little encampment. "Hold up. I'll go see what this guy wants."

He awkwardly sat up, feeling his spine pop, and opened the truck door to his left, taking an uneasy step out of the vehicle, hailing the newcomer.

It didn't take too long for Jack to find the Fireflies. Even with how weirdly uninterested most of The Town's residents seemed to be about the newcomers; the first person he asked had known exactly where the Fireflies were hold up. Jack couldn't help but smirk at that, subconsciously these people were still cautious. They had to be. He had yet to meet a person living who wasn't. Even the children in the quarantine zones learned to watch themselves and other people from early.

He briefly wondered whether it had always been that way. Had people been cautious and cynical before the world went to shit? He imagined so. Clickers or no clickers, people made formidable predators. They knew weakness and strength when they saw it and moved to manipulate both. Maybe it wasn't as common in the old world, but the smart people must have been cautious, they had to be if they quick witted enough to know what certain people were capable of.

Still pondering the past, Jack walked on into the Fireflies small encampment. Glancing around him he quickly spotted an older man getting out of one of the vehicles and calling him over. Casually walking on over to the man Jack balanced his spear against the vehicle before holding out his hand.

"I'm Jack, how you doing?"

"Name's Scott," the man extended his hand, realizing with a pang that it might not be a common practice anymore. "Can't say I'm doing terrible. 'Bout as well as you can on the road in post-pandemic USA."

He paused.

"They said you were an 'errand boy', didn't know there were enough people wantin' enough errands to send them to and fro. You from a camp? Q-zone?"

Jack shook the man's hand with a half smile. "I hear that. It's been a long damn time since I travelled any real distance in a vehicle. Two or three years I think. For how bad I heard your group has been doing the last couple years you're surprisingly well equipped…" Jack spoke plainly, looking at the multiple vehicles for emphasis.

"Anyway, yeah, right now I'm at the Oklahoma City QZ. I do some work for the certain types of people you can find in almost every quarantine zone. I take the jobs the typical smugglers won't take due to the distance. It pays well, and it ensures I'm looked after by that element of people in the zone. My employers are generally smart enough to realize I'm not a resource they want to lose over anything petty."

Jack looked into the truck they were conversing next to, catching eyes with a young girl and nodding a casual greeting before turning back to Scott.

"So what's your deal? What's your intended role among your infamous company?"

"It's..." Scott began. "Well, complicated. Jane here..." He gestured to the girl in the passenger seat. "My daughter and I were heading south before winter hit. We were heading across the coast down into Mexico, hopefully find a boat, skip through the gulf to some island not too far off...."

He laughed then, equally demented and sincere.

"Not sure what our plan was then. We had two others with us when we left, but...Well, the world does what the world does..." He grew quiet for a moment, shaking it off momentarily. "Anyways, my brilliant daughter over there hitched us to the Fireflies, and here we are, truckin' cross-country for God knows what."

Jack shared a brooding smile whilst the man laughed. "Escaping the cold is as good a reason to travel as any. I grew up in the north before eventually being forced down south a bit. It was no picnic to start with but the winters… You've obviously lived it. They're nothing to smile about, especially for a kid." Jack spoke with seemingly genuine empathy in his voice, his mind wondering to bitter sweet memories.

"Well, your daughter is either really smart or really lucky, hooking you up with these guys and all. Aside from a FEDRA escort I'm not sure there's a better way to travel than what you've stumbled upon here, providing you don't actually run into FEDRA that is… Talking about what you've got here, I might be going along with ya'll on that mission these natives were talking about. There anyone in particular here that might have a problem with that? I'd like to confront that issue now rather than later when it's forced, if it exists that is."

The older man's lips turned up in a smirk as he replied. "Oh, damn sure there is, but she's back in Texas. That said, her underling'll be somethin' to work with 'fore you're a part of the group. Name's Cait, and from the way I hear it, might as well be on the edge of a cliff twenty-four-seven. She's got the same problem as most 'o the lot. Too serious, too committed."

"Well, that saves me one bigger issue at least; the underling I should be able to handle. On edge people love me! The spear, handgun and shotgun put them right at ease!" Jack exclaimed sarcastically, adding a fake grin before settling down again.

"Too serious and committed explains most of my issues with FEDRA. Funny that. I guess these cause chasing factions attract the same personalities."

"Sometimes a spade is just a spade."

Credit to @Freamon!

Sir Salty · Mar 22, 2016

[BCOLOR=transparent]Co-post; Clyde 'n J_"Kraken"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]In the outskirts of the town, in the ruins of what was once a former shelter of human civilization, there were bullet casings on the ground. Two men wearing vest and carrying guns were circling the perimeters. Before there was a cacophony of bullets, now there was only silence. As he was leaning on the ground, staring at the Infected that had taken refuge in the shadows and dust of these ruinous buildings. He bit his lip. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Wish you'd keep them more in tact," he kind of mumbled on over to his two escorts.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"What exactly do you want us to do, take off their legs and keep them from biting you?" His charge joked right back. Joke was a hard thing to come by. With the loss of something important, he still felt it was something he was responsible for. No one told him to do it. No one expected him to do it.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Yet, he was sticking a cotton swab in the mouth of the Infected. And taking samples of the blood of the Infected. While two men with guns watched over him. He wouldn't be with them for long. In exchange for medical supplies or services, he often got people to act as his charges to protect him.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He never fully explained what he was doing. Afraid if he told anyone about his current goals, that someone might take that as some way to take advantage of him as a whole. All he told them, was that he was interested in the Infected. No further reasons. And most people didn't bother to ask because he tried not to make it out to seem so suspicious.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Except, taking swabs of sticky saliva, in little testing vials was somewhat suspicious. He knew they wanted to ask more questions. He knew he couldn't give them any more answers. He hated sitting on the ground crouched like this, but considering he was dealing with corpses it was the only "comfortable" position right now.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]What he was worried about, was other people. The Infected were dangerous. But so were unpredictable people. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Directly behind Spencer's group came the sound of loose bricks striking against the floor. A muffled curse followed, and two men stepped into the entranceway, each armed with a civilian rifle. The second to enter pointed his weapon in the direction of the downed infected, then gestured to the figure hunched over it.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Well, good to see you can kill 'em," he paused. "But why the [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]fuck[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent] are you doing [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]that[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He lowered his rifle and he and his companion stepped out of the overgrown hallway and into the room, casting a quick sweeping glance over the rest of the crumbling structure. After coming to the conclusion that no one - human or otherwise - was waiting to ambush them, they relaxed and stood, waiting.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]His two charges George and Nathan turned around pointing down their guns at first, to whomever showed. But as a firefight seemed less likely to happen they easily settled down and waited for him to say something. Spencer, gave the people in view a look. It was half bored, half agitation, and half the face of someone coming up with a thought very fast.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Hobby," Spencer replied dryly, using his cane to help himself up, to stand in front of the two individuals who came, "Sorry, did we wake up this sleeping town?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Well shit," the second man began sarcastically. "Over the airplanes and the big-ass eighteen wheelers, I could hardly hear the gunshots, what 'bout you Phil?"[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]The other man, Phil, rolled his eyes. "Shut up."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]His attention turned to Spencer. "While I'm glad you've taken care of this," he gestured to the limp infected, "problem, I've got to say, probin' them doesn't seem like a normal hobby to have. Now I get it. There's hardly any shit to do 'cept eat, sleep, walk the walls, but I don't know 'bout Tom here, but I usually just put a bullet in their head and call it a day, ain't that right Tom?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"That's right," he agreed.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"So," Phil went on. "How 'bout we cut the bullshit, 'eh? Why're you really here, sticking damn q-tips in these fuckers?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer stared at these men. Humans. Unpredictable, suspicious lot he found. Yet, he kept an even facial expression and looked at all the men. With their accusatory tones, Spencer just smiled. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Honestly," Spencer began pausing for a second, "I'm not like you lot. I can't go running around shooting the daylights out of the Infected. I like to keep an open mind and clear the head once in awhile. Better than staring at rocks tumbling down rubble."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"It's a very good hobby," George nodded to try and help, except it wasn't helping.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Now, I do have some extensive background in medicine, and if your town needs anyone to check them over, I can do so, then I'll be on my way," Spencer told the men.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The two men paused and shot equally concerned and interested looks at one another. Phil opened his mouth to speak when the crunch of gravel outside sent him turning on his heels, rifle raised. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Come on out," he called to the doorway. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"So, uh," came a cautious female voice. "You guys won't tell anyone about this, right?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"The fuck's that got to do with anything?" [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]A young girl stepped into the doorway, hands raised above her head. A revolver was haphazardly tucked away at her side, and a knife swung from her wrist from where it had been tied with a leather strap. She spared the two armed men a quick glance, then turned her attention to the infected.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I mean personally," she mused. "I just read, but hey...If it's his hobby…"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"The hell are you doing here?" Phil interjected.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Fireflies. Sent me to check it out and-"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"They send a goddamn kid?" She bit at her lower lip.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Is there really such a thing as a kid anymore?" The young girl retorted. "Look, looks like you guys got this under control. I'll just-"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Yeah, no, you and doctor-wannabe over here and going to have some explaining to do."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer frowned, he didn't spend years studying to be called doctor wannabe. It completely dismissed the years of service he dedicated to helping the people. Though they didn't know that, he sighed and slunk off his backpack. All though medical supplies were hard to come by, he had managed to scramble some up. Due to his connections and friends in powerful corners of the shadows. Rummaging through his kit. He took a few medications.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"See these," Spencer said, "This one helps with cholera out breaks. And this is for dysentery. I have fever medication and pain medication. And I can look over people who are sick and I will have something, maybe not a lot, but have something for it."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"He helped us out back a miles away," George added at least now he was helping, Nathan was the strong silent type, but he lifted up his sleeve to show some bandages.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Nicked myself on a nail, he helped," Nathan grumbled. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Well," the young girl offered a shrewd smile at Phil and Tom. "If he isn't yours, I think we'll be glad to take him off your hands-"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Oh yeah?" Phil cut the girl off. "Sure, you can just waltz off with the crown jewels of the new world. Won't bother me a bit."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I don't see a crown," she grunted. "Besides - his hobby's clearly too creepy for you two. Do you want [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]that[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent] lurking around your Town? At least on the road he can… Well, keep at it?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I-"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Or I could get my big scary Firefly friends to take him from you guys," the smile on her face widened. "What'ya say, 'doc?" [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer stared at the young woman. He cocked his head to the side a bit, with some criticism he was holding back. He was not property for people to fight over. He had resources, but wasn't being treated like a person. He felt like he was the last can of spam, that everyone wanted and was arguing on who got to do what with it. While some people wanted to do the ordinary thing and eat, the others were contemplating a more sinister thought with the Spam.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I say, I am a human being first off," he told her, "and if you're asking for my services. I am more than willing to provide them to the Fireflies. As long as they can offer me some protection and a place...I can collect myself." [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]What he meant was he still needed to do his research. Yet, that wasn't information or intel she needed or any of the groups needed to know. He wouldn't just be fought over, like he was a pair of boots. He'd turn into the most significant piece of silver in the middle of this dust bowl.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Before the two Townspeople could speak, the girl spoke up, casting a nervous glance at the armed men. "We can do both of those things. All you have to do is follow me. I'm not sure I've got any say in, well, anything. But I think Cait'll like you."[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer looked at Nathan and George.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"What would you two like to do?" Spencer asked them. It wasn't some kind of game, where he can just chuck the two guys he's been providing service with off on the side. However, he also knew it was about time to move on. They were getting that edgy look, the one that said they wanted to ask questions. They wanted to know what he was doing. Why he was doing it. And for right now that was a secret. A secret because he wasn't exactly sure what the reception would be, when he spilled the beans.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Honestly it's up to you," George said, "Nathan and I kind of grew fond of you. Lot better than what we were doing." George glanced at the other men for a second, "just shooting things for the hell of shooting things."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer bit his lip. Another setback. Which was when people grew fond of others. Companionship made parting harder. Except that Spencer had no ties to them. He knew what his goals were and his goals were very clear. He was self assured in that aspect.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I am pretty this group of fellows would and could use Nathan and George's skill set," Spencer looked at the men who caused the original scene. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Phil let out a sharp hiss of air in a sharp sigh and looked to Spencer. "Gah, fuck. No better than those guys up in Pittsburgh if I keep you here against your will."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He turned to Tom. An unspoken conversation followed and he went back to Spencer.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Do what you want, then. If these two want to stay, I'm no one to say they can't. Looks like they know what they're doing."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]George frowned. He knew Spencer to be the quiet type. Secretive about his work, but Nathan and George hadn't had a purpose in a long while. Spencer gave them something to do. Yeah sure, it was hold a gun and make sure the gimp didn't get chewed up. But it was a purpose. Better than holding a gun up with chumps like these dudes. They looked like they could handle themselves, but George wasn't willing to depart in retrospective.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He knew he told Spencer he could decide, but honestly George couldn't agree with the decision.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Spencer, either the Firefly is taking the three of us, or you're not going with them," George said, only realizing it sounded like they were going to kidnap Spencer. Nathan snorted, because George sounded about five all over again. If we can't have you, no one can. It was lame. Not even very convincing either. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Nathan just stared at Spencer with a silent gaze. Spencer hated attachments. It made the job a lot harder. Maybe he had been traveling too long with these two. Yet, was it his place to bargain them?[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Very well," Spencer said, he looked to the young woman, "I hope you don't mind these two tagging along. I am Spencer Mathews. This is George and Nathan."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Nathan gave a silent wave.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"So, we're following her right?" George asked, giving the group of men once last look over.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"No," Spencer replied, with a dry voice and a roll of his eyes.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I'm Jane Baker," the girl replied, almost as an afterthought as she walked to the front door.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The other two men, caught up in the conversation, hadn't noticed her leave. When Phil moved to grab at her arm, he thought better of it and shrugged. He and Tom exchanged a brief, hushed conversation, and followed behind the girl, and the two veered from one another, heading their separate ways.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"So where are you three from?" She asked as the trio exited the building."I'm from Atlanta - well, the Quarantine Zone of the Former Atlanta City Center. I tried making it into an acronym, but.." She huffed. "QZA works."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer would have hesitated to answer the question, if not for the girls open admissions. He was afraid people would put two and two together and that was not something he was needing.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"QZA as well," Spencer decided to take the girls dialect and left it at that. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"We're from Arizona," George said, while Nathan nodded in agreeance. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Not sure entirely where Arizona is," Jane admitted. "We never really went over states."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]She began walking down a street so worn and overgrown that the concrete had been ripped apart, creating a gravely pathway more than what would have once been a proper road. Logic reasoned that the Town had cleared out the husks of cars: not a single frame remained in sight.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Anyways, once we get there, you'll want to talk to Cait," she went on. "She might be a...or-orn...[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]ornery[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent], but that's just how she is. Couldn't tell you much about the others. I've been a Firefly for...Exactly four days."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer raised an eyebrow. She talked back there like she had been personally working for the Firefly for a lot longer. There was noticeable agitation on his face, but he covered it up with a cocktail of deadpan emotion and a smile.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Is that so," Spencer said, "So, you have permission to speak for Firefly? Because I am not particularly interested in ornery leaders chewing other people out for bringing three strangers into the fold."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Oh, well…" She smirked. "It sounded like you were about to get you and your friends here in a spot of trouble, so even if they don't like you, you can sneak off, yeah?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer raised an eyebrow. Pointing to the two lugs that were Nathan and George. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Do the three of us, look like we sneak off?" Spencer asked her. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Well I'd assume no," Jane replied, taking a sudden right down an alleyway. "You did hang around and poked it with a stick. I'm sure you did it in that way that only doctors can poke things with sticks, though."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The girl clambered over a dumpster that acted as the Town's inner wall and vanished over the other side. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Shouldn't be too far now,' she called over.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Except the fact that he really wasn't a doctor. He was a microbiologist, with a background in pathology. Though he wouldn't correct her, it was best that knowledge was going out to public either. He kind of smirked, look at him becoming this secretive mysterious figure. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer raised an eyebrow. He's going to have clamper up a dumpster, isn't he? He side eyed George and Nathan. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"You need help Spencer?" George asked casually. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He rather not admit it, but he gave him a rather tired look.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I will never understand people's fascination with the idea, that everyone is doing some super free running skills in the ruins of New Mexico," Spencer told George.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Me neither," George said, "But that's the obstacle today."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]George simply ran up to the rusted dumpster, took a step on the side bar thing, and stood on top. He took out his large, beefy hand and reached out for Spencer. Spencer sighed and grabbed George's hand. Using his good side and part of George like a human rope, he managed to get on top of the dumpsters. Nathan ran up the dumpster with no problem and the three of them made it to the other side. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer scanned the area, taking his eye on the girl. He pointed to the dumpster barrier.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"That going to be an everyday thing?" Spencer asked her.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I don't think dumpsters are going to be the only thing you'll have to climb over, no."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The group now stood in a five foot gap between the inner wall and the outer one. To their right, where Spencer had killed the infected, stood the building, noticeably caved in even from here. Jane offered a glance left, then right, before turning back to the trio.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"But for now, it's just a straight walk down to the convoy, where you'll get to meet the boss lady."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"My offer will still stand," Spencer told her, "I am more than willing to provide medical services to your group. It was a pleasure meeting you Miss Jane." Spencer took his unoccupied hand out to shake hers.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I don't know where that's been," Jane replied. "But we'll pretend we did it the 'proper' way. Anyways, hope it turns out alright. I'll head back later. I've got something I want to look for." [/BCOLOR]

Rainjay · Mar 30, 2016

Albuquerque, Texas
Sixth Day to Salt Lake City

"I knew letting that kid and father pair follow us around meant nothing but trouble. It's not like we've had a good history with it in the past…"

"Well," Erik started. His attempts to appease his sister over the last half hour had largely been for not. Cait was a girl with a steadfast mind. Once she made it, it didn't change. For most people, anyways. "Zoë gave the order. She probably had her reasons."

"She wanted more men, Erik!" She snapped. "She just needs fodder. That's all she wanted them for. And maybe the man was handy with a map and a gun, and the daughter just was part of the package. It's not like it was any different for us."

Talking like that made her heart ache, but the burning anger inside her chest took first priority. They barely had enough supplies as it was to sustain the lot of Fireflies--plus kid and kid-father--on their trip. Three more was out of the question. It didn't matter if they had their own guns, or could find their own food. Caitlyn wasn't dealing with the liability of it.
"Why don't you just talk to them first?" Erik said. Ever the diplomat, Cait thought, rolling her eyes but shrugging assent.

"I can't tell them to leave without speaking to them first," she said.

It was Lauren who told Erik and Cait first. She and Jane were becoming thick as thieves… And not in a way Caitlyn was happy with. The littlest Wright intercepted the trio, and lead them back to where the Fireflies had set up camp and beyond to the little abandoned building Cait had claimed as her own. It was there that she stood with Erik on the porch, watching Lauren approach with the three men.

The welcoming wasn't very friendly. In fact it was kind of the opposite. Cautious with eyes on them. Spencer didn't quite like walking into establishments like this. Cold with paranoia, concern, and fear. It was a sign of an unstable community. Except that there was no right for him to say anything at this point. He just followed the cold party member. He didn't ask questions. And he be more than ready to leave.

He wondered if Nathan and George understood this as well. That they would be more than likely asked to leave. This wouldn't have been so hard, if George hadn't done one of those heartwarming speeches. One person alone, would have been less suspicious and less of a mouth to feed than the two that followed him.

Yet, they had grown attached. Like they were imprinted on Spencer somehow and now they were there. The only thing that would shake them apart most likely would be their demise.
George on the other hand had none of this as a concern, as he waved to people with a friendly smile. He was wearing a welcoming gesture, not recognizing some of the stares and even glares. There was a small little hum to his smile and Nathan was embarrassed to watch.

"This isn't a fucking parade," Nathan whispered behind his back.

"Yeah, but," George responded. He was just trying to show them, they came with peace. Except that's what aliens say before annihilating the world. So, maybe that was poor wording choice on his part. Either way they were come closer and closer to angry face Lady McAngsty Leader Grimdark staring at them from the porch with a harsh fire in her eyes.

"Hello," Erik spoke first, hoping to break the ice. Neither he nor Lauren wanted to get between the newcomers and their sister, but he couldn't help but feel some pity for these people. "So… I hear you want to join the group? How much did Jane tell you about our cause?"

"Can you honestly expect any of us to trust a handful of men that believed the word of a sixteen year old girl?" Cait practically spat the words. 'Fire in her eyes' was putting it nicely. With her fists tight at her sides, she moved down the crumbling steps, graceful as a wild cat, stopping a foot away from the leader of the new group.

Thank god she doesn't have a gun, Lauren thought. Angry eyes with a gun was expectedly worse. "Uhm, Cait? I think they're an okay lot… They didn't cause any trouble on the way here. Oh! And they could help us, too!"

"Lauren," the older woman sighed. "You don't even know these people."

"But he's a doctor!" Lauren exclaimed, pointing Spencer. "And those two are… are… bodyguards! Ex-FEDRA, actually, they'd been in the town before. The uh, guy who brought us down here recognized them on the way." Glancing back towards the trio she gave them what she hoped was a knowing look. Just go with it, please… If anyone knew their way around Caitlyn, it would the little Wright.

Spencer raised a brow, how did she know he was a doctor? He frowned for a second, but then stepped forward. Well it was a kind of half step forward, half hobble, half limp. He slouched off his backpack and rummaged through it. Showing the medications he had.

"I am a doctor," Spencer told them, "I have medication for cholera, dysentery, pain medication, some fever medication. It's not a lot, but I can help. I have knowledge in diagnosis and pathology."

He didn't like being caught into this mess.

"And as much as I understand that we were tricked by a sixteen year old, girl, let's be fair, this environment is not separated by age, we're all in the same mess," Spencer told Clair, "And in the end of the day. I am more than willing to pay in medical services. Then I'll be on my way."

That was best for now.

"I'm George, by the way," what the fuck are you doing George, "and that's Nathan. He's the silent badass trope. We are bodyguards."

"I am not a trope," Nathan whispered.

"You fit it well," Lauren said with a quiet giggle.

"Lauren!" Cait exclaimed. The younger girl flinched. "Enough. Look," she turned her gaze back up towards Spencer, "I don't know what that Jane girl told you, but why do you want to follow us around anything? We can't actually give you anything--won't give you anything, for that matter. So how does this in any way help you?"
Spencer simply side eyed Cait.

"I'm not here for you," Spencer told her, "Don't think yourself as important enough for me to want to convince you of anything. If someone is injured or needs medical attention and you turn me down at this moment, that's on you and your town. But I am not here to make you like me nor am I am here to be your friend. So we both have something in common here. You want me to take my leave, very well. I am not the one who should be convincing you to let us stay. That's a conflict all on your own some day, that you turned down the medical services someone might have needed in the near future. Have a good rest of your day Cait."

Spencer gave Nathan and George a look. The both of them nodded. He put back the medication in his backpack, and turned on his heel. He didn't want to stay where he wasn't welcomed. He also had no need to stay with them or follow them around. He could get hired by any other faction to assist and get quality escorts, not worth the trouble.
He also still had Nathan and George who were both fit and healthy, and at this point he had to realize, he was stuck with them. So, he had plenty of protection. He needed to work on his project, not waste time socializing with unreliable resources.

Erik and Lauren both turned to their sister. Cait was stubborn and opinionated, but neither would have pinned 'stupid' on her before. There was something to be said for her defiance against allowing a doctor on board with their group. With them was a Firefly medic, but in the years the Wrights had lived with the Fireflies in Corpus Christi, actual medical skill was hard to come by, especially after the disaster at Salt Lake. Their men now were able to clean a cut, maybe make a splint. This man's skill--though perhaps not that of his companions--would be invaluable.

But Cait, the stubborn woman she was, wasn't going to change her mind. She wasn't going to be liable for more lives.

Erik understood this more than anyone else. His sister, for all her outward display of strength and her air of leadership, had a heavy, and guilty, conscience. Already she was leading a band of misfit Fireflies plus two and her youngest sister into the unknown. But sometimes, it wasn't about conscience.

He had never particularly cared about the Firefly cause. He followed Caitlyn for one reason and one reason only; he couldn't leave his sister out for the wolves. But starvation was less of a threat outside of the zones than anything else. They needed this doctor, and perhaps even his men.

Leaving Cait on the porch, Erik jumped the crumbling steps and called after the retreating group. "Wait!" He called. "Ignore my sister. We all defer to her, but her voice has no more sway here than mine. While I still don't understand why you would want to join us of your own accord… I--we--would like you to stay. There's not much we can offer, but our group is big in number. There's safety in that. You would make us stronger."

Spencer took a second, turning to the individual speaking to him.

"Forgive me for being a tad crude when I say this," Spencer began, "but I would think anyone in this environment would see the purpose in numbers." Spencer pause and took a second, "it's not that I want to join you. I see the practicality in numbers. I can't tell if it's pure stupidity or a lack of observational skills, but I am nowhere near in the position of the rest of you are. I can barely run a mile. I can barely pull the trigger of a gun. But I can diagnosis a man, treat a condition, stitch up, and perform crude surgery. I was not asking for the services of the Firefly out of want. I was asking out of pure practical reasoning. You have the resources and skills I don't have and I have the resources and skills you don't have. It's simply a maths game."

George sorta nodded along.

"Besides we're with him, if you guys don't have enough man for one person, than we're here to provide that backup. There's no risk for you guys if Nathan and I die, because we're not one of your own, so you're not losing any of your own men," George added.

Erik sighed. There was no easy way to convince anybody, none the less complete strangers, that joining you and your band of total strangers would have any mutual benefit. There was a reason the Fireflies were faltering in number. It wasn't like they had much to offer anymore. So how the hell was he supposed to try and get this guy to change his mind?

"Most of our group is non-Firefly, actually…" he began before trailing off. He cleared his throat before squaring his shoulders and starting again. "Why don't you stick around for the night at least, then? Get to know the group maybe? You can make a decision in the morning. There is a place for you lot here, if you want it."

Spencer side eyed Erik.

"This isn't about us versus them-

"- Hey Spence," George cut him off knowing exactly where he was going with this, "Maybe we should you know stay for the night. I know you won't forgive yourself."
Spencer sighed.

"That's twice now George," Spencer replied dryly, he gave Erik a begrudgingly look, "one look. And I want to catalog every patient. If I am staying here for the day, my services should be utilized."

"George,," Nathan mumbled.

credit to @Clyde

Rainjay · Mar 31, 2016

Albuquerque, Texas
Sixth Day to Salt Lake City
Dinner

"Do you think they do this every night?" Lauren asked, skipping alongside Erik. Their destination, now only a few feet ahead, was a large, brick building, the centerpiece of the city's center. The night had set in, but the building emanated light, each window casting a glow on the plaza outside. It was something the Wrights had never quite seen before. Residents--from the city, Erik assumed--were streaming into the building, many carrying pots or trays in their hands teeming with food. The siblings were being carried along with the crowd, thick with more people than either of them had ever seen in one place.

How do so many people live here? It was difficult to fathom. Sure, there was plenty of space around here, but how did they manage the supplies? Medicine, weapons, clothing? Heck, they're more organized than us by far.

As they approached the doors, they got their first look inside; it resembled a banquet hall, with odd collections of tables and chairs placed across the room and a lengthier one along the back wall. It was covered from end to end with food offerings--meats, fruits, vegetables. It reminded him of Thanksgiving, a holiday their parents used to tell stories about. Families would get together each year and prepare a giant meal, a feast, like this, or so he and Cait imagined as children. But he doubted this was for a holiday occasion.

"I don't know," Erik replied, putting a hand on Lauren's shoulder. The girl was wide-eyed, trying to take it all in. A few people looked down at her with gentle smiles as they passed, garnering a meek wave from her in response. "Let's just find your sister, see what they wanted to talk about, and--"

"Ah, Erik!" From the crowds emerged an older man, hair dusty white with a squint to his clouded eyes. Unlike the others in the room, dressed in worn workclothes, he was dressed finer, wearing a spotted tie and a suit that once might have looked nice but now was frayed and discolored. He smiled--he was missing a few teeth, though his remaining set looked pristine--at the elder Wright and then towards Lauren before extending a hand. He was nobody they'd ever seen before. "We've been waiting! Come,"

"How do you know my--"

He abruptly clasped his bony hand over Erik's shoulder and began to drag him through the crowd. His grip was impressively tight, bone almost grinding on bone. "We have a table special for our guests. That's you! Caitlyn is already there, as well as a few of your other companions. You can all grab something to eat before we get to discussing!" As they walked, the man waved people out of the way, easily slipping through the masses.

"Discussing what?" Lauren mouthed to Erik. She was pressed into his side, in part to his own tight hold on her. Easily dwarfed by the height of everyone else in the room, she was finding herself dodging limbs and protruding elbows. In fact, from what he could see, she was probably the only child in the room, save Jane, if she were here.

"And, here we are..." the old man stopped in front of a circular table, decorated with a yellowed, frayed table cloth and an array of disjointed silverware. Cait was seated, stiff backed and her hands closed into tight fists on her lap. She smiled forcefully as they approached. The man gave Erik a push towards the seats, nodding in approval. "Sit, sit! Are the others coming soon?"

"Probably, we uh, didn't coordinate all arriving at the same time... Uh, didn't know this was such an event!" Cait said. She tipped her head towards the seats beside her--sit here. So he sat, sandwiching Lauren between the two of them. They exchanged a long glance; the look in her eyes was familiar, too familiar.

"Ah. Well, we'll just wait, then! Feel free to go and get yourselves some food!" The man piped, looking between the three for an uncomfortably long moment before nodding and smiling. "I'll go wait for the others." Then he turned on his heel, making through the crowd again to the front of the building.

Lauren looked up at her siblings after a moment passed, nose scrunched up. "He's weird. This is weird. Where are the others?" She leaned up in her seat, straining to see above the heads.

Caitlyn leaned over the back of Lauren's chair to Erik. "There's something fundamentally wrong with these people. He knows everyone by name. Have we told anyone our names?" she spoke quickly, in a hushed undertone. "The people even talk funny. Listen, we sit through there dinner, and in the morning, we book it."

"Sure, Cait." Erik said before adding, "Do we even know what they want? All they told us was that they wanted our help..."

In fact, it seemed all to simple to him. They wanted their help, clearly for something beyond the ability of numbers to solve. Judging from the skimpy gear their guardsmen were armed with, they needed firepower. It wasn't hard to put two and two together.

"No. He refuses to talk until we're all here. Why, I don't know. I just really don't like this." she said, leaning back with a sigh. "Whatever it is, it isn't our problem. We're not asking for anything from them."

"Except to stay on their land," he said. "The least we can do is listen. Maybe they just, I dunno... Maybe it's just a couple Runners?"

Cait scoffed. "That's even worse. We're not clearing infected for them. In and out. That's it."

ze_kraken · Apr 1, 2016

Old World Dinner

Jane had decided to risk just one more house after her encounter with the doctor. After much deliberation on the matter, the girl had come to the conclusion that, if anything else, her father would notice the revolver was missing, and it would not take a genius to put two and two together, but she would have the time to investigate. Spencer wasn't that fast. She watched Spencer and company hobble over to their little encampment before risking a peek into one last house to snoop around. For a good while, in her first round of inspections, she had assumed what she was doing could be construed as theft, but then, it hadn't looked like anyone was living in these houses. Dust matted the carpet, wood rot was obvious to even her untrained eyes, and ceilings were caved in from years of water damage, excess weight from snow, and the general humdrum of nature.

As she approached her last house, Jane clumsily fumbled for the loaded revolver jammed uncomfortably down the fold her pants and hefted it up towards the doorway. The door itself was left slightly ajar, loose at its hinges. What might have held a wreath at one point was overgrown with weeds and what looked to be a bird's nest, the paint had long since peeled away. With a shaky grip at the revolver, both hands wrapped around the weapon's handle in the struggle to keep it aloft, she lifted up a booted foot and kicked the door the way the FEDRA instructors had taught her.

"Shit!" Jane gasped as she was tripped backwards from the recoil of the blow. The door swung inward, and an agitated bird perched atop the gutter squawked, as the girl fell on her rump against the ground.

Her elbows and rear stinging from the impact, the girl stood up, brushed herself off, and peered into the door. This house was in, relatively, good condition. The carpet's color still shown through two decades of neglect, a light and sun-faded shade of pink that might once have been red. Cautiously, readjusting the heavy revolver, Jane stepped into the entrance way, tugging her gas mask over her head just in case. Her muffled breathing was the only noise that rang through the house: no agitated infected, no footsteps. Just her.

Tucking the revolver into her pants again, jolting as the cold metal touched bare skin, Jane began to search the house for anything worth taking. Cabinets lay overturn, the television in the living room was cracked, a large steel pole still stuck in its screen. The stairs were barricaded by loose furniture. Disappointed, the girl made one last move for the entertainment stand beneath the television. Piles of dusty DVD cases awaited her. Elated, she sat cross-legged, investigating each case after brushing away the thick coat of dust. Citizen Kane, the Godfather, Casablanca, and...

Night of the Living Dead.

"Oh, bull-shit!" She exclaimed to no one in particular, tucking the case into her backpack.

She returned to the entertainment stand, opening another cabinet door to find a stack of much larger, heavier cases, each with multiple CDs. Curiosity piqued, the girl hefted one of them out onto the hardwood floor and brushed the film away. H...Ha...There was a Pot...Was it the movie? Was it-

"A recording by Random House Audio," she mouthed, running her finger along the words. "The hell is it?"

Already coming up with an alibi as to where she found the cases, Jane tucked the Harry Potter recording into her bag and dashed out of the house, removing has gas mask as she went.

All in all, not a bad find.

---

"Look, all I'm saying," her father began as the Fireflies began heading to this 'dinner.' "Is that your dumb old man thought 'Global Studies' was a legitimate major."

He stopped then, chuckling.

"All I can say is that the end of the world spared me some student loan payments."

"You guys had to pay to learn things?" Jane asked. "What's the point in that?"

"Well, it's like ration cards back in the Zone," he went on. "Just, you could use it for more than food-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get what money is," she interjected. "But why did you have to pay to learn things? That sounds silly."

"Just one of those things," the older man shrugged his shoulders. "A lot of this stuff was just.. Normal. We didn't think much about any of it until it was gone... Then there were bigger things to worry about..."

A silence developed between father and daughter, not quite awkward, not quite amicable. Almost solemn, if not for the break of footsteps and voices. Jane, biting her lip, started to speak, but thought better of it and continued on in silence. Hiding the revolver back in the glove compartment had been quite the feat of sleight of hand on her part upon returning, and while she felt the need to confess to sneaking off, she knew the consequences..

"What's up kiddo?" No fooling him. He knew her too well.

Changing tact, reaching for some subject that might have produced a similar effect, Jane spoke softly. "What was Mom like?"

Her father let out a low whistle, stammered, then replied. "Not now kiddo. Maybe when we hit the road again."

---

The 'dinner hall' was the most impressive building Jane had ever been in. Well, second most. The CNN Center in Atlanta had been impressive, if 'different than I saw it' as her father had said. If for no reason other than the food, Jane found herself drawn to it. It was well-kept, the first floor spacious, and there were even candles and torches hanging on walls, currently unlit. Jane spotted Lauren across the way and, giving a quick good-bye to her father, made for her. She sat sandwiched between her siblings, who sat leaned back, quietly bickering at one another. Jane's money was on Cait having started it.

"Hey," she whispered, nudging Lauren. "I found something."

Lauren turned in her chair, stood, and followed Jane away from the other Wrights.

"That medic guy that showed up?" She began, putting her backpack on the ground. "I may or may not have had a part in that - but, anyways, I found this..."

With considerable effort, Jane tugged out the Harry Potter CD case and held it out for Lauren to investigate.

"I don't know if it's the one you were missing, but it's got some missing CDs, so that might be a problem, but I think this is like a recording of the book? I know it isn't the movie, and if it was, there's jack shit we could do with it, but..." She beamed at Lauren. "It's something! I just hope the dust didn't scratch it. Oh, also, no listening to it around me until I've read this one, got it?"

Sir Salty · Apr 4, 2016

[BCOLOR=transparent]They weren't entirely settled in where Erik had guided them to stay, but Spencer was already chiseling in his journal and taking out his slides. Blood tended to spoil and without a refrigeration system, he needed to work fast. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Entry #20[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]What I suspect is that the way the infection spreads is through parasitic fungal spores. Which would mean that typical treatment will require human intervention as well. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]I suspect that it is not the initial bite that infects patients, but the spores somehow seep into the wound, which starts the first stages of infection. Except that, isn't the only source of danger. I also suspect these spores are on our clothes, as well as us breathing them in. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Not sure how many spores is considered dangerous for one person to consume, more data is further needed. Though I suspect, possible solutions include;[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]-Finding clean sources of groundwater we can tap into, and requiring general hygiene, like washing ones clothes and washing one's body[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]-A topical solution that cleans the spores out of a wound. I hypothesize that the second way of infection through the wound, the epidermis must actually be broken, for easier passage for spores to get in. Which would mean needing a solution that acts as a barrier that both kills off the surviving spores and chokeholds their survivability.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]-Mask, cloth provides no protection for breathing in spores. Gas Mask would be preferable, but in the hands of FEDRA technology. Medical mask may be the only other source we have, I see a 70% chance of filtering out the spores.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Samples for today, 8 samples, 4 Saliva Swabs and 4 Blood Samples. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Location Firefly Camp, allegiance is unknown[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"You look busy," George interrupted him while he was writing.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I am," Spencer replied.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"You've never told us what you're doing," George told him, sitting down on the ground.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"And I don't have to," Spencer told George.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I mean, haven't we earned your trust?" George asked. Nathan sat down next to his brother. Nathan inspected the both of them. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"George, that's," Nathan frowned he didn't know how to put it in the right words. What determined a man's trust, was on that individual's perspective of trust. He could read people. Observe them. Which made him sound stereotypical hick. It was clear Spencer trusted few. The very fact he agreed for them to travel with him, didn't mean Spencer trusted them more. Just meant George was pushy about his opinions.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"It's fine Nathan," Spencer replied, casually convulsively closing his journal halfway, "what I am doing is beyondtrust George. That's all I am going to disclose or say."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"So you're working on something that you're afraid someone will stab you in the back if you told them?" George concluded.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]At least George was dense and couldn't catch on quick. He too sounded like a terribly stupid, uneducated hick from Arizona. You know one of those states that followed the Holy Bible like it was made out of steel. It knocked them unconscious with faith.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Except that Spencer shrugged to throw him off.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Maybe," was all Spencer replied with.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"That's vague as hell, just give me something to work off of," George told Spencer.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"That was not our agreement when you took this job," Spencer told George.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"You going to tell us anything?" George asked, "We told you we're brothers-"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"-Correction you ran your mouth for an hour," Nathan cut George off.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer frowned and bit the tip of his pen that was running out of ink. He also had a pencil, but had always appreciated the style that a pen's ink looked. It was a rare commodity and it was kind of a reminder to him what he was working on. Scratched out letters would have originally spelt out the address of the FEDRA location a.k.a the former CDC. Luckily there wasn't enough lettering for anyone to defer anything from.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer fought with telling them anything and not saying anything. Men changed when they learned. Men changed when Prometheus brought them fire. It turned into technology and he blamed humanity for what happened. He felt pity for the Infected.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]No not pity. Deep sorrow. To know they were human and probably a slave to the idea that they weren't. With no free will, he wondered if there was a lingering amount of humanity in the back of their minds that still struggled with the darkness of something else controlling them.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Well we told you things," was all George mentioned again.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]It had been his brother and him for a long time. You know, wherever their family went George hoped it was more pleasant than being an Infected. He liked the idea, that there was a little hope between the three of them. Like they were rebuilding something lost. Which was fine. Neither George or the rest of them were doom and gloom type of people. Spencer was self confident and could be an extremely bold personality. While Nathan was extremely grounded. Maybe more quiet than George could stand, but he had always been like that since they were kids.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]While Nathan never felt any sense of pain to begin with. There was no reason to let this world change you into something cold and inhuman. People were no different than the Infected in this case. The more inner someone became, the more they had no free will because they subjected themselves to those inner feelings.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer bit his the tip of his pen again before letting the hook that would normally line up with a pocket or something snap. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Makes you think," George broke the silence again.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Was it?" Nathan asked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Do you ever wonder if this could have been avoided?" George asked, "This whole outbreak."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Nathan shrugged. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"From what I gather," Spencer began, "looking over old records. I think this could have been entirely preventable. We as a human species need to reunite. We need to stop staying so stranded from one another and come together. To solve this problem as a community."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Is there a solution?" George asked Spencer.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer replied with a side eye. That was a very poking question. Instead of directly asking him, George was going fishing. Spencer had to give it to him, George never gave up.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Maybe," Spencer replied again.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Gah," George protested with frustration, he leaned in and seized Spencer's collar. Though not in a threatening way. More like an excited child who wanted to know what he was getting for his birthday, "Spencer just answer me." George was now shaking Spencer a little.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"George, we don't shake people," Nathan said in that older brother way.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Especially me," Spencer added.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]George let go and frustratingly pulled back.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"On a scale of one to ten, how important are you?" George asked Spencer.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer shrugged.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I never looked at myself with much importance, simply I am the only one willing to do something," Spencer said, "I'll need you guys to be on extra duty when we get patients. Sometimes people can get-"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"-Handsy" Nathan cut him off only to give his brother a glance.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]George scowled and pouted his bottom lip.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Oookay keep your secrets than," George protested raising his hands up in the air. Nathan just shook his head and looked at his brother like he was a lost cause.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I suggest we don't make ourselves look too suspicious," Nathan told Spencer, "Whenever we're needed we should mingle with the people."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"You mean like a party," George retorted.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Well, no," Nathan told George.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]While the two brothers playfully bantered. Spencer went back to his journal:[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]It's entirely my thought this could have been prevented. We were idiots. We destroyed ourselves not the infected. And instead of picking up the pieces we're more concerned with who caused the situation. Who gives a fuck who caused it? Can't we just come together to do what is right? To prevent something entirely preventable?[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Burn the infected. Clean ourselves up, quite literally too. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]A hand came across the journal. Spencer was looking at George's hand covering the ink on his paper. Spencer scowled at George.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Yoink," George said snatching the journal from his hands quickly.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"George!" Nathan scolded like George was five all over again.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Meanwhile, Spencer was shell shocked at his empty hands.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"JK," George told Nathan sticking out his tongue, "I'd never read your journal Spencer." He gave it back, "But I just want to know."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer shook his head.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"This is exhausting," Spencer whispered to himself.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"You're not babysitting me," George told Spencer, "But you gotta put your trust in someone."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I have trust in something," Spencer told George.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"In something, not people," George added.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"This world is divided because people destroyed themselves, how can I put trust in a world of people who only can think in micro thoughts. Problems that concern them in the here and now. Humans don't do well with uncertain futures, so they focus on little pictures instead of big pictures, I don't put trust in little pictures, because they have a limited scope of reality," Spencer told George.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Feel like that's a complex way of saying people are stupid," George responded.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"You don't say," Nathan rolled his eyes.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Not really," Spencer replied, "I am not saying people are stupid. I'm say that we have evolved from thousand of years, and we have molded and adopted a world, that grew faster than our primitive brains. I'm saying we're limited by our very slow to update biology."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]George huffed.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"So on a scale of 1 to 10 on importance of what you're working on, how important is this?" George asked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"10 because it deals with a future most are uncertain of," Spencer replied.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Oooooo," George added spooky sound effects.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer raised a brow. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"You do realize we're grown adults?" Spencer asked George.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Doesn't mean life doesn't need a sound effect," George told Spencer.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer looked at Nathan.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"How did you put up with this?" Spencer asked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I pretend he's on some distant planet that sounds travel so slow that I cannot register a thing he's saying," Nathan responded with a small smirk.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Cruel, but effective," Spencer whispered, as George put a hand on Spencer's shoulder.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I know I am being annoying, but it's for a reason Spence," George told Spencer, "Because I am worried. About you and Nathan. I don't want to not be doing my part not helping you Spence."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I'm fine," Spencer replied to George, "You're escorts. Paid. Not friends or family. Or what you want to think."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"That's what you say, but I beg to disagree," George laughed.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Let me get my work done," Spencer replied.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Fine," George huffed.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer shook his head. People change when they learn of something. They change for better or for worse they always change. Power and knowledge were the greatest sources of corruption. [/BCOLOR]

Freamon · Apr 6, 2016

Jack Graham - The Town

Jack was at a bit of a loss. After he had finished his conversation with Scott he figured he would just wait until later to meet the rest of the Fireflies. They would all be in the same place anyway. Besides, he wasn't yet completely certain that he even wanted this extra job. More supplies to head back to the zone with would be pretty great, but he wasn't about to do some completely bullshit mission to get them. If it came to it he'd simply turn down the offer and be on his way with the supplies that he had already. He'd traveled further with less in the past; it wouldn't be that big of a challenge to get back to the zone, especially if he found anything useful along the way.

For now however he needed a way to kill the time between the dinner later and the present. He wasn't friendly with either group in the town, so he was an outsider on both accounts. That made finding something to do a bit more difficult, but when waiting you prepared. It was one of the first lessons he ever had to learn. It took him quite a damn while but eventually he found one of the natives willing to let him use their gun cleaning kit. Finding a quiet little place to sit down in full view of the understandably cautious loaner he went to work on cleaning his handgun. These days the cleaning process was as thoughtless as shooting the damn gun was to him, but he still remembered teaching himself all those years ago. Or rather, copying as his sister learned from the manual and he followed her actions. She had always been a quick study. It was a big part of the reason he was still alive he imagined. If he'd been on his own he'd have gotten careless with his moves in the zone years ago. He wondered how long it would be before the absence of her good traits to counteract his negative ones would get him killed. It was a miracle it hadn't already happened.

A while later Jack was finally at the obscenely crowded dinner. The crowd, the way everyone was acting normal and at ease and the fact that he was basically shepherded to a specific table immediately put him on edge. On edge or not he was seriously fucking hungry, having not eaten in a day or more. As soon as he could he made for the food before returning back to the table he had been guided towards. Taking a bite out of some sort of meat he looked at the others at the table. They were Fireflies, close ones by his guess. They seemed comfortable with each other, even if they were as on edge as he was. He continued eating, eventually looking back up at the others at the table.

"Fireflies I assume? I'm Jack, the messenger who arrived in town at the same time as your lot did. I might… Might be going on whatever mission these jolly fuckers are sending you on… Depending on what it is."

Rainjay · Apr 7, 2016

Albuquerque, Texas
Sixth Day to Salt Lake City
Dinner

Despite Cait's protests, Lauren promptly slid from her seat when Jane approached and followed the girl to a less densely populated area of the room. "Yeah, he did--Holy crap!"

Grabbing excitedly for the case, she turned it over in her hands, smiling elatedly. It had been a long time since she'd gotten her hands on anything Harry Potter, and longer since she'd seen a proper CD. "Where did you get this?" she asked, opening the case and checking the existing discs for scratches. By her mark, they were all in decent condition, probably playable. The question was, which book was it...

After placing the discs back into the case and closing it, she turned it around to read the name. "Harry Potter and..."

"The Prizoner of Azkaban."

She stood there for a few moments in stunned silence. Granted, it was a one in seven chance that it could have been the book she needed; those odds weren't great, considering. But for those few seconds, her hopes were high. With a sigh, she handed it back to Jane. "It's not the sixth."

"Still, though, it might be a fun listen. And I won't spoil anything, I swear." she said, smile beginning to return. "By the way, where's your dad? Didn't that creepy old guy greet you both when you came in?"

"Caitlyn, just listen to yourself. You have got to stop this; we need all the help we can get. Zoë might not know what she's gotten us all into, but I know you have a clearer head than that," Erik said, struggling now to keep his patience. His sister had become plain old unreasonable since leaving Christi, and he couldn't figure out what had gotten into her. "You can't just keep turning people away and refusing help. We could need that help some day. Besides, whatever happened to doing what's right?"

The two paused in their discussion when a figure approached their table, a plate of food in his hands that seemed to have his full attention. After a moment, Erik realized who it was; the guy that showed up, somehow at the very same time, as they did right outside the city. The two sat in silence for a moment before Caitlyn shot him a look. "I'm doing what's right for us. The Fireflies."

"And a doctor won't be right for us?"

"Fireflies I assume? I'm Jack, the messenger who arrived in town at the same time as your lot did. I might… Might be going on whatever mission these jolly fuckers are sending you on… Depending on what it is."

They both looked up at the man, conversation dropped immediately. "Caitlyn and Erik," Erik said.

"Our attendance of said 'mission' depends on the details, as well. They're being a little cryptic." Caitlyn said, setting her elbow against the table and her chin against her hand. "What sends you here? I don't suppose you live here, or know anyone here, so how'd you just happen to arrive--"

With a nudge to the ribs, Erik took the reigns and continued, "Do you know much about the people here?"

Rainjay · Apr 8, 2016

Shortly after their conversation had ended a stranger approached the group of three men. He assumed that these three were with the Fireflies; one appeared a doctor, supplies not far behind him as he worked and wrote in a journal. For a moment, the stranger paused, reconsidering. The other two men alongside this apparent doctor seemed armed, whereas he was not; but alas, orders were orders. He would simply have to interrupt the studious male with his invitation and greeting. All the Fireflies were intended to be at the dinner, enjoying their welcome. This simply would not do.

"Hello!" the stranger exclaimed as he stepped into view, visibly unarmed and unarmored, largely not a threat. Beginning to speak with a bubbly attitude, he said "The Mayor has invited all of our guests to come to our dinner tonight! It would be a shame to miss it. There's plenty of food for all. And towards the end, the Mayor intends on making his proposition. It would be best for all ears to hear. So, could I bother you to come with me to the feast?"

[question=goldenrod]Though not truly associated with the Fireflies as of yet, the citizens of this strange town view you as such and in an equally strange display of welcoming and kindness insist you come to their dinner. Do you go with this man?[/question]

Sir Salty · Apr 8, 2016

[BCOLOR=transparent]Silence had finally settled in between the group. Nathan had been polishing and checking the condition of his and George's gun. While George sat around sharpening a knife he had stored in one of his boots. He'd move some of his long hair out of his eyes, but none of them said anything among each other. Especially now that Spencer was working away. George caught glimpses of equations he didn't understand. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Math people. Except that there was a nucleus and compound this and compound that. Science shit. George finally decided his knife was sharp enough, had it sheathed right back and realized he was kind of bored. Here they were in a new town and they were sitting on the outskirts of activity like some creepy, mysterious figures.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Hey Spence," George finally piped up.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Yes," Spencer asked, but he was still very much focused on his work.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"If there was one thing you'd like to see, what would it be?" George asked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"A healthy world," Spencer replied rather quickly as if the question was very silly to him, as a concept. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Nathan grumbled, but finally decided the guns were fine. He was listening in, as he always ended up doing. George could be so plainly daft, and even Nathan knew that. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"How's the leg Spence?" Nathan asked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Spencer side eyed Nathan.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Same as it always is," Spencer replied.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Nathan nodded.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"My cut hurts like a bitch," Nathan kind of moaned.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"That's nice," Spencer retorted.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"How did it happen?" George asked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"What happen?" Spencer replied.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"You know the leg," George said.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"No I don't know. How my leg grew? It grew in embryonic fluid inside the womb over several months till I turned from a misshapen UFO to a human being," Spencer replied.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I meant, how did you injure your leg?" George asked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I fell, I think that's how people break legs, not sure," Spencer replied biting the tip of his pen and making the part that go into pocket snap again.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Silence fell among them again. Until another bold and bubbly personality came in. Spencer slowly raised his head from his journal to hear this individual talk about dinner. And the mayor's proposal. If the mayor was nearly as paranoid as this Cait individual was, than he could already see where this speech was going to go.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]However, it was an opportune time to get to know his patients. George and Nathan looked ready for a meal anyway. So George got up dusting himself off.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"So, what's your name dinner invitation man?" George asked.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Nathan grumbled and shook his head. He also dusted himself off. A lot good that really did. Spencer grabbed his walking cane and use it to lean on and ease his way up. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Well we're ready, lead the way," Spencer told the individual.[/BCOLOR]

ze_kraken · Apr 15, 2016

Welcome Party

"So I've been thinking," Scott began, finishing lacing up his boots. "I'm partial to Jennifer, maybe Joan?"

"Joan?" Savannah asked, laughing. "I mean, I get you have to be tough, even in a zone, but I'm not naming her after a girl who was executed at sixteen. Besides, you don't even know it's a girl, Scott."

"I damn hope it is, she needs to take after her mom more than her dad," he replied, having finished the lacings. "She'll be quite the little badass."

"Abby wouldn't let you raise anything but a survivor, you know that. Sometimes I wonder what she did before all this: she seems far too comfortable in this state of mind."

Scott considered the point for a second, walking over to the grimy apartment window directly opposite the sofa he had previously occupied. Outside, the daily life of post-war Atlanta droned on. Military vehicles were heading out, escorting this bus or that, taking children from their homes to school for the week. In the beginning, parents had protested, but now it was just another reminder of the world they lived in. FEDRA had spectacularly managed the advertising of the Zones, making even optimists like Scott feel like the world beyond the walls was entirely finished.

"You know," he blurted, tracing a humvee below with his gaze. "How about Jane?"

"You're not giving up on it being a girl, are you?"

"Nope."

---

Scott wasn't sure how he felt about seeing so many people in one space again. Not just that. He had lived in the Atlanta Zone, he had been to the Firefly's base, both of which had their fair share of people, but this Town was more than either of them. They looked well-fed. Very few people walked around armed. The few children present looked legitimately happy. It was...disconcerting. A part of him felt that this was the natural state of the world, the one he had spent just over half of his life in, but the animal instinct that had developed as a result of travel, panic, and fight-or-flight told him something was off here. Good couldn't exist without condition.

"Jane, I-" only he looked to see that she had already run off. He scanned the crowd for her, relieved to see the girl beside the Wrights. He offered a curt nod to Erik and Caitlyn and began to wander the dining hall. He exchanged pleasantries with whoever offered to speak to him, but the words rang hollow on his ears as he went through prescripted motions of sociability.

"What happened to findin' 'decent folks'?"

He could see Abby laughing at him now, finally come to find his wish only to be unable to truly appreciate it.

"I've never met a Firefly before," one young man was saying, probably directed at Scott, who hardly registered the words. "Have to say we don't get much of anyone down these parts - funny thing is, most people think that all the roads are clogged up, but we've been working on making this fortified highway out to another part of the countryside, see if we can't get some farms going out there. You know, using the cars to block off the sides? But when you think 'road' all you think is a shit-ton of discarded cars, clogged up everywhere.

"But, mostly one of those long-term goals, right now it's just about getting what we've got and making it go further, you know?"

"Yeah," Scott nodded abruptly. "I get it."

"My goodness," came a new voice, warm and pleasant. "Daniel, give our guest some space. He's had a long trip from what I gather."

The young man, Daniel, stepped aside and allowed an older man through the crowd. The newcomer stood about a head shorter than Scott, with hair a good deal more worn than his own, and a suit that had certainly seen better days. Still, his bearing bespoke of a life of relative safety and cleanliness. He held himself proudly; there was no sight of the hunched, shuffling bearing Scott had seen so many times on so many people.

"I know I just got on to Daniel here for breathing down your neck, but I'm afraid I'll have to do the same. I'm the Mayor," the man extended a hand.

Scott uneasily took the man's hand: the Town, the Mayor. Was anything not a proper noun made out of its literal meaning?

"Scott Baker," he replied curtly.

"I see you're not a Firefly like your friends here," the Mayor remarked, breaking off the handshake. "That certainly is interesting, but I'm glad to see that even idealistic rebels can take in new blood now and then."

Scott chuckled. "Not sure if you could call me 'new blood.' What? I not look the part?"

"Ah, no," the Mayor replied, eyes twinkling with amusement. "I could pretend I've 'learned how to read people' or that 'I'm a natural-born leader', but it's pretty obvious: no armband, no tags."

Reaching for an armband he knew would not be there, Scott attempted to pass the motion off as readjusting his jacket sleeve.

"I've always preferred less obnoxious creatures," he admitted. "There's a reason we call 'em bugs."

"Ah, well, I think then that FEDRA is the cow, swatting the fly with its tail, but ultimately doing nothing about it..." the Mayor paused. "And here we are, somewhere in the middle. Men, ah, no, humans. Anyways, Scott, a pleasure - we should be getting underway here, so if you would take a seat, it would be greatly appreciated."

The two men shook hands, and the Mayor left, leaving Scott with a tingling sensation lingering in the back of his mind.

"We'll see what you want, old man," he muttered. "We'll see."

Rainjay · Apr 19, 2016

The strange man declined to provide his name to the trio of guests--in fact, he simply ignored their query--and smiling as they stated their readiness to follow, turned to lead them towards the great dining hall. To the people of this town, the restoration and decoration of the building had been a feat, and the meals held inside of that building were notably special. It meant a day of busy work, but rewarded with a meal of plenty, and of course, held the promise of a bargain. For these Fireflies, this stranger assumed, would be of great import to their little town.

He kept pace with whom appeared to be the leader of the group. He walked with a walking-stick, and so the stranger thought it would be polite to match pace to him. There was plenty of time. As they walked, he remained silent, smiling happily and moving with a spring in his step. Not many people walked like that these days.

The light from the busy hall soon became visible, and the stranger proudly pointed it out. "There we are!" he exclaimed, speed increasing ever so slightly. "The Mayor will greet you, and bring you to your seating arrangements. I expect he'll be ready to speak shortly after your arrival!"

The Mayor indeed was waiting by the entrance, and beamed when he saw the trio arriving. "Good work, son," he said to the yet unnamed man, clapping a hand against his shoulder. "Go on inside, and grab a bite. I believe your wife is waiting near the back for you!" The man hurried into the dining hall with excitement.

The old man, the town's Mayor, turned towards Spencer and his followers. "I'm so glad you've decided to come! We've been waiting to start for you. Come, come." Ensuring his charges were following, he started into the building and through the crowd that parted before him and the three men. "The Wrights and Bakers are here already. The young woman is growing a bit anxious, so we best hurry."

Caitlyn and Erik looked up in unison at the arrival of Spencer and the others. There was a sour taste in Caitlyn's mouth, but she said nothing. Erik simply looked apologetic, waiting until the Mayor had finished speaking--he said something about finding the two children and ensuring everybody was sitting before the big announcement--to speak himself. "I guess they herded you up, too?"

Lauren and Jane arrived, the pair taking seats opposite of the elder Wrights. Once Scott and the straggling Fireflies arrived and were seated, the cacophony of voices in the room immediately died, all eyes on the old man who was now standing in the front of the room, elevated on a platform.

When he spoke, his voice boomed across the room, amplified by a strange looking object he held in his hand. A microphone, Erik remembered. How they had managed to create the electricity to power the device, he didn't know. There was little time to ponder it, for the man, although old in appearance, began to speak excitedly and quickly.

"Welcome, Fireflies!" Applause erupted across the room. "We welcome you to our abode! We hope this meal, prepared exclusively in your honor, is to your liking."

Caitlyn muttered under her breath. "Get on with it already."

The Mayor's opening remarks were drawn out and intricate. It had the attention of his people, so enraptured Erik could think nothing except that they'd been brainwashed beyond belief. Or perhaps it was just the state of humanity, now. Had people become so desperate for safety that they would allow themselves to be washed over with this facade?

"But we have one favor to ask of our honored guests. The beauty of our settlement is not without great cost. If we cannot find a way to maintain our population, our great feasts will soon come to an end!" A low murmur came from the crowd. "Fear not, my good men and women. These Fireflies are the answer to our prayers. Their superior firepower will help us in clearing out the field to the east, and once it is safe and secure, we can begin our greatest project yet; agriculture. We will be self sustaining!"

Another cheer and round of applause. The people near the Fireflies' table looked at them with awe and gratitude.

"We're doing what?" Lauren questioned.

"They begin working tomorrow. Let this feast commemorate the greatest of accomplishments!" With one grand wave of his arms, the Mayor stepped down from his makeshift stage.

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