"Christ, Cale... ...are you ever not smoking?"

The question was hoarsely whispered in the blackness of the tunnels beneath the broken capital. It wasn't the best time for needless questions that everyone knew the answers to. Cale smoked all the time, and whenever the question was raised he would simply, defiantly raise his hand back up to his lips and take another deep breath in through the unfiltered, unforgiving cylinder of tobacco and nicotine. James shook his head and eyed the end of the tunnel again. A cool ray of moonlight was shining through a large crack in the surface - the only light visible in what the map indicated was the last intact metro station that side of D.C. He could make out the figure of a single creature, a failing mockery of a human being. Its skin was torn and decayed, every breath an aberration to God himself in the eyes of many of the more affluent or fortunate citizens of the broken U.S.A. With one click of his finger he could blow the poor souls head off of his shoulders - he was known for his riflework. The only other man in their band of brothers that he could never match was Benjamin - that man, if he was really a man at all, was insane with a rifle of any kind.

No, he couldn't end the ghoul's existence then, not yet. The four men there, James, Cale, Leon and Richard, all knew the directions given by Charles as he left to scout ahead: "Don't fire until I give the signal." Since Charles was elected leader of the expedition that night not another man in the tunnels wanted to piss him off. Certainly not James - he'd pissed Henry and Deckard off with his botched raid the week before, another showing such as that and he could likely be shot himself. As for the signal itself, it would probably be obvious enough. Charles was silent on his feet, but his .44 was a different story. Every single shot from that gun was probably heard around the world. They'd just have to wait until the shot was heard, he figured, and then they could pour firepower into the expanse ahead. James kept the sights steady at the face of the limping ghoul he'd set his eyes on for what seemed like an eternity. He was ready to get back 'home,' and that just made the wait even more unbearable.

"Cale, got a light?"

Now Leon was edgy. James swiped his hand around, motioning for the younger man to get quiet. He admitted he'd slipped up once, but Leon had a tendency to raise his voice in the worst situations; whether he realized it or meant to was up for debate. Leon hesitantly obeyed, and just then their ears rang. The entire tunnel was filled with the noise of a .44 magnum's first of six shots. The shot heard 'round the world jolted all four men up to their feet and brought their rifles up for what they hoped would be the last bout of the morning. James was ready and waiting - the first rounds that left his rifle pelted the irradiated mess of a man ahead into a paste. The team jogged out toward the light, fanning around it to cover the entire station. The .44 went off again, and again, each time utterly outmatching the noise of the various assault rifles the four waiting men had chosen for their endeavor. James was content to mow down two more ghouls as they came sprinting into the failing light of the early morning. Still more yelps, moans and roars echoed throughout the station. Smoke clouds started billowing up from different sides of the causeway above them - the last exit up to the outside world.

Then something happened that he was utterly unprepared for. James took a step back to compensate the extra few rounds it took to down a rapidly approaching Roamer, and before he could even reload his weapon his right foot was jerked backward by a skeletal, melted hand. His jaw hit the concrete, and had it not been for the pure adrenaline he had been filled with throughout the mere first minutes of their endeavor he might have been knocked cold then and there. He twisted around as two bony hands clawed their way up his legs, and he saw in front of him the horrible mess that was this latest creature's excuse for a face. Another Feral, another victim - the first killer of the day if he wasn't careful. James writhed and jerked, but for all his strength and years in the wasteland he could not escape the clutches of this abomination.

Time seemed to slow for a moment, as if God was preparing him for his last gruesome moments on his forsaken earth. But then the .44 fired again, closer than he would have liked to where he was being attacked, and the wretched face in front of him exploded in front of his nose. The blood and gore he witnessed was negligible compared to what he would have had to endure had the situation proceeded. The gun fire had ceased. Embarrassingly, he was the only one among the group to be on his back for the duration of the fight. A wrinkled, aged hand appeared in front of his eyes and he willingly grasped it. It was Charles.

"Took a nap, did yeh?" The older man queried through a toothy smile that lacked most of the teeth.

"Show me a man who can sleep with one of those on top of him... ...and I'll lose all faith in humanity."

"You've obviously never seen a guy with a zombie fetish!" Richard cackled. James couldn't help but to glare him down.

"What? They need love, too."

James had forgotten to thank his savior, but Charles didn't mind. It was a matter of pride - all of them had it, no one was going to see it ruined unless absolutely necessary. If they died running, they died a coward. If they survived, they were cursed for their cowardice back in the 'hole.' If someone else saved their ass, they were probably too foolish to realize the prize was split at the end - of course, who could handle something like that on their conscience for a few extra caps in the end? James didn't even like to think on it.

"You're sick, Rich."

"You're racist, James."

"You're both too damn loud for me."

It was the first thing Cale had said all morning, and somehow it was appropriate. When it was said he lit up another cigarette and made his way up the first escalator toward the gates. James blew out the warm air he'd gathered in his lungs after his short but frightening ordeal and followed Richard, Leon and Charles along the same way. They'd cleared most of the northern Grady Way station and transit line - but unless they got back in time to send patrols and a few workers down to fortify the station, the rest of the ghouls down south would migrate north in a hurry. Considering their general plans to link up with Three Dog in the center of the city via the metro tunnels, this would be unnacceptable.

Thus began the long trek back home.

________________________________________________________________________________
____________________

And so begins the story of the 'Kings of the East', a select group of mercenaries, soldiers, and other such individuals who would change the face of the capital wasteland forever. The objective of James' group on that fateful April morning was to clear out the northern 'Grady Way' metro tunnels and the last intact station and portal of entry along what their boss had come to call the 'vein' of Washington D.C., a network of metro tunnels that ran from the heart of the capital mall to the farthest northern expanse within the operating range of Galaxy News Radio. What happened beyond is the stuff legends are made of.

This is a jump in and write cooperative story. Join as you are and as you wish, and show what you're made of.

Chris calmly breathed in the morning air. The bright sun was to his back as he rested in the prone position. Chris used the dead body of a brahmin to support his rifle as well as give him some concealment. The rotting corpse smelled terribly but that was a small price to pay for concealment in the barren areas of this wasteland. Chris preferred the barren areas, he wasn't as worried about the enemy seeing him so long as he could see the enemy first. The two had scouted the area for the last two nights, thats how they operated, scout at night and act in the morning. He depended on the mid-morning sun to blind anyone trying to get their sights on him, leaving only the sensitive area behind him, that was Jessie's place. Jessie laid behind him watching the rear and flanks. Taking the last drag of a cigarette, she lifted her sunglasses and turned back to Chris, nudging his boot with her's.

"Yes?" Chris says as he hears Jessie dousing her cigarette butt into the dirt.

"I'm tired of smelling that thing, lets get this over with." Jessie says impatiently with a slight giggle, as she knows Chris won't be rushed.

Chris ignored the comment and looked into the scope of his 50 caliber rifle. At approximately 700 meters a small group of raiders set up a camp right outside of an old gas station. The sign read "Big/Lit le S ore" Amazingly only two letters didn't survive the blast, yet only a few ruins dotted the area between him and his target. He silently counted out five of the nine of them in his crosshairs. They kept a tight watch on his objective. A young girl, a rich man's daughter, whom was recently kidnapped from her home. They nearly got away too but it doesn't take too long to track clumbsy raiders with an apparently fiesty victim. When they were first hired for the job Chris spotted quite the blood trail not fair from the small town. He assumed it was the victim's blood but it happened to lead to the bled out body of a thug known to hang out with raiders. It appeared his neck met the sharp end of a knife. The raiders probably planned on asking for a ransom, but the father figured they would just kill her anyways. Chris watched silently as they drank and got drugged up. He knew to at least wait until after the mission to celebrate and he didn't plan on letting these guys learn the same lesson. He aimed for the head of the raider closest to the captive, the younger looking male was facing away talking to a female raider.

"Ready?" Chris asked Jessie.

"Ready as I'll ever be." Jessie quickly answered back.

"Time to knock these guys to the bottom of the food chain." Chris said as they both put cotton balls in their ears.

The conversing raiders unluckily lined their heads up in Chris' crosshairs. Chris nearly smirked as he squeezed the trigger. The sound of thunder shook the ground as the rifle jolted Chris' shoulder back and sent the huge round slicing through the air. The velocity of the round lifted loose dirt into the air in front of him causing a slight dust cloud. The first raider's head literally burst into a cloud of blood and brain matter and his limp body went straight down. The second raider's head was cut in half just above the nose. The hostage immediately hit the dirt and covered her head. Chris swung his rifle to the third raider who was running for cover, he placed his crosshairs in front of the dusty foe and fired for center mass. Another explosion and the same jolt as a similar large bullet cut through the air broadsiding the raider and sending him in a new direction. He then swung to the fourth raider who was obviously hopped up, this leather bearing warrior screamed and fired sporatically into the horizon, he was soon reduced to another corpse with a large hole in his chest. Moving onto the next combatant he acually heard a bullet hit the corpse in front of him with a heavy thump, followed by a few less accurate shots that seemed to be the cause of a weapon in serious need of maintenance.

"He almost got lucky." Chris said jokingly as he laid his crosshairs onto a reloading raider.

"Too bad he's got a bolt action." he said as he squeezed off another round.

"That's all of the ones outside, lets move!" Chris said as he lept up with the heavy rifle.

"Keep up." Jess said already in front of him weilding an AK-47.

The two began bounding toward the objective. One would provide cover while the other sprinted for 3-5 seconds either getting behind cover or laying down. About halfway there a raider stepped out side and was quickly dispatched by a three round burst from Jessie's weapon. As they came upon the prisoner they slowed to a cautious walk watching their sides with there weapons at the ready. Chris laid his rifle across his chest, secured the strap, and unholstered his colt 45. as they both knelt down next to the wimpering victim. She didn't seem like the type to stab a raider in the neck, but who knows what someone will do when they are being taking against their own will.

"Katie Smetch?" Chris said questioningly.

"Y-Yes." Katie answered back as she began to sit up.

"The rest of them inside?!" Jess asked quickly with her rifle trained on the only visible window.

"Yea....I think so." Katie said as she sighed in relief.

"Here, point and pull the trigger." Chris said as he pulled the firing pin back and handed her the small 38. revolver he keeps holstered around his boot.

"I suggest you hide in one of these tents until we come back just make sure you don't shoot us when we come back to get you." Jessie said.

Chris and Jessie then began moving cautiously toward the door and stacked on it. Jessie was first and closest to the door, directly against the wall. She reached back and touched Chris, signalling she was ready. He came around and checked the door for any obvious traps then put a forceful kick into it forcing it open. In a split second Jessie was in and to the right and Chris was right behind her covering the other side. Gunfire filled the small building as two raiders were surprised by the quick entry and paid the ultimate price. The two met back up and stacked on the bathroom door. Chris came around this time and slowly pulled the bathroom door ajar, he immediately noticed a thin wire tied to the doorknob on the other side and slowly pushed the door closed. Chris looked at Jessie and smiled, she shook her head knowing what Chris' next move would be. He turned away from her and she removed an old landmine from his satchel and handed it to him. He placed the mine on the ground next to the door, he reached behind him toward Jessie once more and she handed him a roll of wire which he tied to the pin of the mine. He then picked up the mine and held it in place above the bathroom door, while Jessie quietly drew tape from a roll in his satchel and secured it. Chris then cut the wire with his knife and tied it around the doorknob. He stepped back and gazed at his work..."not to bad for a quickie." he thought to himself. He then looked back at Jessie and winked the two walked out of the gas station. Dust filled the air from the events that just took place. The sand dried blood quickly as it filled the cracks of the concrete. The sun once again beat down on them, the whole operation had probably taken only fifteen minutes to execute. They stepped in front of the tent that Katie had occupied only to see her shakingly pointing the 38. at them, she was obviously still quite frightened.

"Katie it's alri.." Chris was cut off as a boom echoed from within the gas station and dust poured out it's windows.

"Katie...it's alright." Chris finished this time.

Katie stood up and held the pistol out to Chris, he recieved it, releasing the pin and replacing it into his boot holster.

"We have a small camp set up in a ruined building, we will wait there until night." Jessie said to Katie as she removed the magazine from her rifle and replaced it with a full one.

"We'll have you home by tomorrow morning." Chris said taking the cotton out of his ears and walking back into the direction of the sunlight.

Chris was a decent sized man weighing around 180 pounds and about 5 foot 11 inches. His face was dirty and wind burnt from the long hours spent reconning the area the nights before. A fresh shave wouldn't hurt either either, but Jessie insisted he keep his facial hair. Jessie herself somehow remained attractive even through all of it. It kind of baffled Chris at times, but he wasn't complaining. She had almost black, red hair with blonde streaks that flowed down to her shoulder blades, of course she kept it in a ponytail during missions. The two were an item, whether that weakened them or made them stronger as a team was not completely unknown. What did matter was the fact that they knew eachother's next move, that alone decreased the amount of surprises in the field. They both knew how to survive the wasteland and its dangers.

The sun was beginning to set and the air became cool again. They didn't sleep on shorter missions. Sometimes they would stay up for nearly 24 hours on a single mission. On extended missions they would sleep in shifts and set traps on the perimeter. Chris reached into the satchel on the ground next to him and pulled out a bottle of pre-war vodka. He had sort of a problem, but Jessie would never really say anything as long as he kept it discreet and she knew he wouldn't get too drunk to aim straight, the worse that could happen was he would aim for the head and take off a leg, but he surely wouldnt't get too drunk to hit the target. He twisted off the bottle cap and took a swallow. His facial expression didn't change dispite the potent alcohol. He put the cap back on and stood up. He walked over to Katie, she was asleep on a cot but woke up as he neared her. He then extended the bottle to her.

"Figured you might be interested." Chris said as she took the bottle into her hand.

"Yea I suppose it couldn't hurt." She replyed taking a small sip.

Her face became twisted for a second and she coughed.

"Ugh...thanks." She said handing the bottle back.

Chris nodded slightly and looked up at Jessie who was standing on the second floor looking through a pair of binoculars. He walked around the half destroyed wall and up the stairs to where she was looking over the horizon.

"See anything interesting?" He said raising his own binoculars to his face.

"No, just a pack of wild dogs." She replyed.

"We should get ready to leave." Chris concluded and turned to go back down the stairs.


An hour later the sun was nearly gone and they were packed up and heading out. The two carried rucksacks capable of holding enough supplies to camp for a few days. Generally they would not have left the store without taking any supplies they needed but it wasn't worth the risk of being there if more raiders were to show up. A few hours later the three of them had came to a small city. Chris was a small distance in front while Jessie and Katie when he suddenly became still. Jessie did to and reached to grab Katie's arm before she could continue walking. Chris then knelt down and Jessie and Katie followed. He gripped his rifle firmly, raising it to his shoulder. As he got closer he could see a small barrel fire on the far side of a destroyed building and several large silouettes. Light from the flame was cast on one of the figures as it walked closer to it, revealing it to be a super mutant. Chris breathed in deeply for they were out numbered by at least three. He then turned and moved swiftly back to Jessie and Katie.

"O.K." he whispered, "we got at least six super mutants up ahead, just past that next building."

Jessie didn't blink, "I can't say we could win that battle."

Katie remained silent but barely held her cool.

"Well...we'll just have to move around them, I'll signal when it's clear and keep an eye out for landmines." Chris said turning around and ducking behind whats left of the buildings.


Chris could probably take two or three of them down before the other had time to react, but the muzzle flash of the rifle would give away his position and he would be rained on by bullets. The way they figure it is one can only take risks they can afford, and this one would cost more than they were willing to give away. Chris and Jessie could sneak past them any day of the week, but with transporting someone comes transporting someones clumbsy mistakes. Chris looked through his binoculars again, having a better angle on the mutants this time. They appeared to have three human captives, but sadly Chris and Jessie weren't heroes, they were mercenaries. Just at that time one of the mutants walked over to a hostage and wrapped his hand over the top of his head like a softball. The hostages screams were soon muffled out by the crushing of his skull. The mutant looked at his brethren and began to laugh, grabbing the limp body by its leg the mutant forcefully removed it from its torso and held it over the fire. Chris lowered the binoculars, he wasn't proud of his choice but it was one he had to make. He then waved Jessie and Katie to his location and slowly snuck to the next. He waved them on and continued. He could see them head on now, there appeared to be eleven total. Chris never wen't into a battle he didn't think his odds were at least decent in, and in this battle his odds were probably zero. He steadied his rifle on the busted portion of the wall and waved them over with his left hand. Katie stopped in the wide open when she'd heard a dreadful sound. *beep* Jessie's eyes grew large as she looked into Chris'. She turned around and lept toward the mine to disarm it. That same explosion from earlier occured. They had been compromised and Chris wasn't about to let them take the first shot, or for that matter the second. Another explosion came from his rifle barrel, as well as about a three foot flame that lit the entire area. Six of the mutants were left stumbling about for their weapons. Their size and strength are their best factors but large frames don't leave much room for agility. Jessie had successfully disarmed the mine, Katie and her joined Chris behind the wall.

"We gotta drop our gear and get out of here!" Jessie yelled above the gunfire and sound of bullets hitting the walls and ground around them.

Chris lowered his weapon after taking his next shot. Jessie lobbed a grenade toward the mutants just before dropping her satchel. Chris set his rifle against the wall and dropped his ruck sack grabbing the sub-machine gun attached to it and throwing it across his back. He picked his rifle back up and gave covering fire as Jessie and Katie moved to the next cover.

"Set!" Jessie yelled as she began laying down covering fire.

"Cover me!" Chris yelled back as he began to move.

They bound for several seconds but the mutants were blatantly moving in the open, without cover, and they were gaining on them. The prisoners ran while the mutants left them unguarded, but the mutants weren't concerned with them anymore, they were engulfed in hatred and they found a fight. They all sprinted through the barebones of the city for several minutes and stopped only when the gunfire from behind them had ceased. They were out of breath, out of supplies, and nearly out of ammo. Chris and Jessie both resupplied their magazines with the remainder of their ammo. Chris clutched at his combat knife, he didn't like to have to get that close.

"C'mon we can get out over here." Jessie says to Chris.

Chris turns around and follows Jessie through a crack in the wall.

"Alright, lets just keep movin', we haven't got enough ammo to fight off a radscorpion right now." Chris said outloud.

"Hey nice shooting back their, did you mean to hit that captive though?" Jessie said to Chris.

Chris' brow raised, "No?" he said puzzled, he hadn't realized he'd shot one of the humans.

Jessie smiled at him and slapped his shoulder, "I'm just kidden, you know I would be a bit more angry if you had of."

Chris laughed out loud and looked at Katie. She had kind of a half smile on her face as if she was seriously surprised at thought of joking about another human's life, or maybe that was the only energy she had left. This has probably been one of the most eventful few days of her life.

(OOC: All that work and nothing? =\ )

((I don't have all that much time, but I'll be updating the thread at least every other day. My activity should be better on weekends. Anyone else can feel free to join in in the meantime if they're interested.))

(OOC: I'll keep tabs on it, it's one of the only ones I've been able to find that I'm interested in. More people would be nice though.)

(( No one else? Very well. ))

The march across the barren waste wasn't that far, but it seemed like forever in the dim morning light with the group of five moving at such a slow pace. They remained low and slow, stopping every few moments so Charles could check the horizon and their surroundings again. Any creature of any kind could ambush them from any direction, and the older man had seen it happen too many times to not take the extra precautions. Once the broadcast tower just above the redoubt they called home was close enough, however, the men abandoned their short postures and made a jog for the trenches that led to the entrance. They were greeted by Deckard's best sentries near the door - the two guards let them through without questions, they all knew each-other. The sun was slowly rising, but they were forsaken from its harsh light into the dim underground recesses of Hill 53 - the home of the Rangers, one of the few organized quasi-military outfits in the wasteland that still had a head, or rather two, on its shoulders. The heads were Deckard Rave and Henry Miller. Deckard, as far as James understood, had come in from out West with a train of military operations under the Brotherhood of Steel. Something went wrong, and one way or another Deckard ended up there. Henry had been in the Capital all of his life - he was in his fifties and counting, a respected voice and presence in the wasteland, which was how he had come to gather and command the Rangers.

Hill 53 was a marvelous example of planning and persistence. Henry had spent a decade hunting for a place to call his own, all the while exploiting his adventures in the wastes to gather wealth and prestige. Eventually he found Hill 53 abandoned, and with a little grit, wit and sheer will, he got the place back up and running. Deckard had helped more than a little bit, and that was likely how he had acquired the post of second-in-command. No one wanted to piss off Henry, but not a soul ever dared to cross Rave, either. The man was deadly and every person who ever met him knew it. It was the way he looked at people. The way he walked, the way he talked. He had fought. He had killed. Some had said that he had even died once, but the devil himself couldn't keep his soul at rest, and so Deckard Grave walked the world of men again. Whatever the truth was, he wouldn't tell it. He didn't talk about himself. He talked about the mission, his cause. He talked about survival. That was all that was important to him. And that was all anyone could ever manage to get him to talk about. The conversations tended to be one-sided, as Graves would give the orders, and when any excuses followed he had a tendency to simply turn around and walk away.

Their path through the complex's concrete frame was short, as Henry was waiting for them in the planning room a few halls away from the entry. The five men who had participated lined up in front of the map table, and Charles gave the report:

"Eighteen ghouls eliminated, sir. The rest have been falling back southward as we come. The Grady Way north station is clear. Custer said that Deckard has already sent a detatchment down to fortify the position. If all goes well we should see Three Dog in a week or so at this rate."

Henry was satisfied with the mission complete, but he was still bothered.

"So many of the Roamers and other ferals keep falling back to the south as we move in," Henry observed, "I didn't know they had the capacity to be afraid."

"It's possible someone else is trying to move through the station - maybe in larger numbers, that would attract their attention more than us."

"I didn't think they still had the ability to reason, either."

"They can find their way around corners and subway cars easy enough," Leon cut in, "who knows what those damn things are thinkin', anyway?"

Henry circled around the map table, coming to the side that was focused on the capital's downtown districts. He pointed at the Chevy Chase metro, the location of GNR and their objective all along.

"Three Dog made another announcement today. Apparently mutants have been showing up in greater numbers in and around the city. It could explain the extra activity Deckard reported down near Metro central."

"They're massing," James figured, "like they're getting ready for a war or something."

"It wouldn't be the first time. Mutants have been sieging GNR and the Brotherhood's metro outposts for years. Deckard seemed pretty concerned, though."

Henry looked up at the clock. It was almost six in the morning. He could see the weary eyes of the men in front of him, and he mercifully sent them away:

"There's something else we need to discuss, but that can wait until noon. Get a nap or something, gentlemen. I'll need you ready to move by midday. Job well done."

The look of relief that James' face conveyed inspired a chuckle from the aging colonel. He knew how hard they worked, but life in D.C. could only be described as such: a daily hell. Only the strong survived. He looked forward to moving things along quickly over the next week, before GNR's radio signal lost its strength again. Mutants had a knack for shooting at Three Dog's toys.

The old man looked at the small, still form face-down in the dirt. The child's legs had been eaten away into stubs. He turned the boy over to take a look at his face. The old man sighed and began wrapping the body in cloth. He was just finishing up when he heard three shots from the surrounding area. The man's eyes grew wide behind his spectacles as he swung the body onto his back, tying two ends around his chest so he could carry it with two free hands. An old pre-war derby hat sat on the ground next to him, which he quickly placed on his head. Leaning against the remains of a wall was a Winchester model 1912 pump-action shotgun. He grabbed it and exited the destroyed building, trench coat flowing behind him. Once outside, several more shots were fired, this time closer. The shots came from behind a nearby hill which he watched intently. After a moment, a large cylindrical figure emerged from behind it, tubular arms flailing about, an SMG in one claw. The robobrain yelled in a Mr. Handy-like voice, "Ravenshaw!" The old man pointed his gun in the direction of the robot, "Tom, what have you done?" he whispered. Two Yao Guai blundered directly after Tom. The robot stopped beside Ravenshaw and spun around, lifting his SMG in the air towards the mutated bears. The SMG had been specially modified for Tom's claw-like hand, allowing him to easily use it. Simultaneously, tiny explosions erupted from the pair, tearing through the opposing mutants. The Yao Guai fell a few feet from them and stayed there, unmoving.

"Wow, can't you feel the adrenaline, isn't it amazing?" Tom inquired excitedly. Ravenshaw rolled his eyes and smiled, "You can't feel adrenaline, you tin can." The robobrain placed his SMG in a metallic holster welded to his side before replying, "It's been a long time since I've felt it first-hand, but I remember it as if I was in a human body again." Tom moved over to a dead Yao Guai and started ripping chunks of meat out of it and placed them in tin cans, which he then placed in a container welded to his back. "Did you find the boy?" he asked Ravenshaw as he scavenged. The smile disappeared from the old man's bearded face as he remembered the extra weight on his back, "Yeah, Tom, I did, but these beasts got to him first." Tom sighed, "Yet another child falls victim to these things. That town needs better protection." Ravenshaw looked at his friend and agreed. "Yes, I know, but we can't give it to them." Tom seemed to nod in agreement, but it was hard to tell. "Well, I'm all done here, we should have enough meat to trade for some more ammo, we're running a bit low." Tom said as he motioned to the metal pouch on his left side. There were a couple SMG magazines inside, but that was it. "Aye, I only have twelve more shells, myself. It should be enough to get us back to town, though." The moon was high and shined brightly, "We better get goin', there will be more of these soon." He said waving a hand towards the Yao Guai. Tom agreed and they set off deeper into the Capital Wasteland, the moon illuminating their backs.

Bob M14rifle heard gunshots, he stopped his pedicab; Behind him, Tiger halted his small tank, the Combat-A-Pet stick his tiny helmeted head out of the turret. "Danged Mutants are at it again, Tiger". He saw an old man and a Mr. Gutsy heading nearby. "Come on over, we'll escort you to your destination."

Suddenly, Tiger butttoned up in his tank; he spun the turret around and Bob saw what had made Tiger do said action. Raiders sneaking up on both the man and his Robot, the plasma pistol in the turret of Tiger's tank belched a beam of energy; a raider fell blasted through the chest. Tiger continued firing at the Raiders, as Bob unslung his Chinese assault rifle and joined in.

Bob burned through three magazines, a raider weilding a katana jumped atop him; They both fell to the ground but Bob got up first. The Shiskabebob sword sprang to life in Bob's hand, a single swing engulfing the katana-armed raider in a horror of flames; Tiger kept firing all the time at the raiders.

(TAG Ravenshaw and Mr. Gutsy)

Hey Cellis, I didn't think we were allowed to reply in this thread otherwise I would have praised both your work and Lionhearts work extensivly! Absoloutely brillant, I plan on keeping up to date with the story, and I've been speaking very highly of your writing to people I know. Keep up the great work.

Oh, Cellis just one (hopefully constructive) critism, I've noticed that sometimes you change tense just after dialogue. For instance, instead of writing "He said." you write "He says". This throws the flow of the dialogue a little, but other than that it was highly enjoyable to read!

Cheers & God Bless!!