WEll, I am forced to type it in MS Word, becasue a few of my keys are broken and I use it for the corrections and whatnot. Moreover, I want to save my workfor furture reference. But yeah, I like to type in IBCA class then just paste it onto my Word doc. later becuase the keyboard (particularly the space key.) Isn't broken. A while ago i spilt water on my laptop so yeah... but anyway, If you spot any grammatical mistakes or mispellings for some reason, please point it out to me.

"This will never work." Roberts moaned. "We can't charge, weaponless into a group of raiders. Even if you had all the assault rifle ammo in the world, you're not going to take them out before they shoot the living crap out of you."

"Actually," Evans began chuckling. "If he had all the ammo in the world, that'd leave none for them and he could just-"

"Really Clayton! Come on dude, you know what I meant! God dude."

"Sorry," Evans replied, still laughing quietly to himself. "You know I couldn't resist."

"As I was saying," Roberts continued. "No raider gang is going to be so terrible that one guy with a rifle can take them all down."

"Who said we had to go guns blazing?" Jacobs inquired with a large grin on his face. "We mix up a little jet with some Med-X and you can knock someone out for about two hours or so. You see, what happens is when-"

"Sean, I'm a damned doctor. Technically. I know how meds work and why." He interrupted.

"Okay, but we can use that to take out anyone in our way as we sneak into the armory. Now, I'm not the greatest at picking locks, but and lock will succumb to enough force applied. Whether it is bashing it with this," He said, patting the butt of his rifle. "Or with some high velocity lead. As soon as that door opens though, we need to grab our stuff and run. Especially that gauss Assault Rifle Evans, because that thing is damned important. If we can get our stuff and book it, we might be able to get out of here. Hell, if we get that power armor, Clayton could just take all the rounds for us and walk away unscathed." He joked. "Y'all ready?"

Roberts finished missing up some knock-out serum and administered them into some syringes. He handed them out, three per person, which was more than what they'd need, and looked up at Sean. "If we get this to work, we are coming back for James right?"

"Alan," Jacobs said, releasing a large breath, "James is one of the reasons I want to do this. He'll die without the right medical equipment so we need him out of here fast. Let's go though, the faster we start this, the faster we can get it over with." Jacobs held one hypo in his right hand, while the other two were clenched in his left. They peered out of the tent flap to see the dark night lit up by powerful LED spotlights spread around the camp. Each one was on a base that had wheels for transportation. The unbearably bright light shone in the dark so great that it appeared completely black. One by one, they slid into the darkness, slowly becoming shrouded in the night. To anyone in the light, it would be hard to spot them, but being in the shadow, they could see just fine so long as they didn't look into the lit area too long. They kept their footsteps light, trying to keep a low profile and not attract any attention. The walk was mostly smooth and uneventful until they came upon another raider. The slaver was clad in painspike armor, and was facing the opposite direction, holding a 10mm submachine gun in one hand, and his cigarette in the other. Jacobs slowly turned around to meet the worried gazes of the other two. He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling them to stay quiet, and turned to face the back of the slaver again.

The man was standing next to a tent that was dimly lit from the inside. Less than three feet away from him, Jacobs' knee popped. The cracking joint sounded like a firecracker in the relative silence. When the man turned to face what had made the sound, he was met with an injection into the neck with the knock-out serum. Though the man became unconscious, his muscles began to tighten and a couple of rounds fired into the ground as the victim's hand clenched. The gunshots rang throughout the camp and numerous voices could be heard scurrying around. Jacobs frantically called his friends over, picked up the body, and dashed into the nearby tent. They waited in silence, pulses racing, as slavers around them searched for the origin of the noise. Countless shadows danced across the wall of the tent as slavers ran in front of the light.

Jacobs silently pulled off the man's 10mm sub and a few extra magazines and passed it to Roberts. Evans gave him a questioning look and gestured to himself with a hint of annoyance playing on his face. They opened a small lockbox slowly to expose a 10mm pistol, which was passed to Evans to keep him happy. The battered veteran looked at the pistol with slight disappointment, but nodded in acceptance. He tried to re-arrange himself n the cramped tent, only to knock over the lantern on top of a box. The glass around the light shattered, and movement outside ceased for a second. Jacobs' heart skipped a beat as every muscle in his body tensed up. A thousand different thoughts of what to do if one came or if they became surrounded darted through his mind as he heard footsteps approach the tent. His heart pounded so that he could hear it in his ears and feel it in his throat, which was making it difficult for him to breathe. A figure's shadow clearly stood in front of their tent, and its hand was slowly making for the zipper.

1) Above post has been edited in case you didn't notice.

2) I am SO sorry for not posting here recently! In IBCA class, I typed a wall of text after writing it all out, but when I went to add it at the last minute, it wouldn't add and the beel and rang. This discouraged me from writing for a while, thinking about how tedious it would be to type this for the fourth time. Personally, i have no one to blame but myself, but i still blame the computer. Anyway, updates should become more frequent again. TY.

Evans leveled his 10mm pistol to the front of the tent. His hands were shaking as he tried to aim were the head would be on this figure, he motioned for them to exit out the rear flap by jerking his head back while still attempting to keep his eyes trained on the front door. Jacobs shook his head, a frightened expression on his face, trying to tell Evans not to shoot. He just re-adjusted his stance and aimed down the sights of the sidearm. He audibly svcked in a deep breath and let it out little by little; he was going to try to take the shot. Roberts tried to leap up to prevent him, but it was too late. A half-second before Roberts even made contact with Evans, the 10mm round ripped through the canvas of the tent, and shattered the slaver's shoulder.

In an instant, a lead rain was brought upon the tent as it was ripped and riddled with holes. It was as if everyone in the camp was firing at them, which they probably were. All three of them dropped to the ground and attempted to crawl away, each leaving behind a trail of blood in some way or another. The air became filled with the sound of rifles firing in rapid pace. They continued crawling in the dark to advance on the tent that the slavers were keeping their stuff in. Not noticing them slip out the back, suppressive fire was still being put on the tent they previously hid in. As soon as the tent came into sight, Jacobs, followed by the other two, stood up and readied himself for a sprint. They bolted for the tent with what little energy they had left, each one's feet pounding furiously on the ground in quick succession. There was a raider waiting for them, but she didn't get a chance to fire a shot as Roberts lunged forward, and stabbed her in the windpipe with two syringes. The woman was clutching her throat, desperately trying to breathe and stem the constant blood spurting out. Rather than watch her suffer, Evans used a technique he had learned in the army and silently snapped her neck, killing instantly. They looked around for any sign for their weapons as the gunshots outside stopped.

"Over here!" Roberts exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down. Beside him was a large metal safe with a small lock on it. The lock was heavy despite its size, and wouldn't succumb to normal lock picking. This was a problem. The reason being was that they had two choices; one being try to shoot the lock off, most likely alerting the whole camp to where they were again, or leave their stuff here, and lose the Gauss Machine Gun that the Enclave would probably find and take without problem from the raiders. They were stuck for the time being. They looked for anything that could help, but found only a few caps, a few boxes of food, and a sack of potatoes.

"What'd you find?" Evans questioned, seeing as how Jacobs was searching for the stuff more.

"Nothing," he said disappointment clearly in his voice. "They don't have crap in here except a bag of 'taters, some food, and some caps."

A look of unexplainable joy came across Evans' face. "Bring 'em here, I think I can make this work."





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Hope y'all like it, more to come.

Still reading. These guys need a bit of help

Lol mentally or physically?

anyway, I should have another section soon, but it's kinda hard to type in school now cuz everyone's so depressed at the fact that some kid committed suicide that the atmosphere is terrrible for writing. I don't wnat to sound heartless, they have every right to be sad, and I didn't even know the dude and I'm even a little depressed. Like I said though, next portion soon.

Sorry about the classmate. Just wondering when the group might catch a break aka friendly intervention. They are doing fine on their own though.

lol don't worry breaks come after they escape this. Who they are and what they do will not be disclosed until I get there but yes, they do catch a break and meet people lol. they just gotta earn it


EDIT: this is bad. My comma key isn't working anymore and I don't wanna have to copy/paste every comma I make in the story. especially seeing as how I use them alot more than I thought. I may only be able to type in IBCA class until I can get this fixed.

Don't know what kind of computer you're using, but this is my third keyboard that I've kooked up the the laptop.. simple USB connection and only $7,-

:unsure: I tend to wail on my keyboards, atm the 'T' is starting to lose interest.


I likes the story a lot

lol, yeah but the only keyboard we have that isn't in use is really old so I have to wait until I can get a little convereter plug (Thank you mom)

Anyway, I'm at school right now but I can't really type because I have about seven minute left and I won't be able to do anything, however, I should be able to type tonight.


P.S./Note to self: I'm gonna have to sit down and read the whole "Memories" story lol.


EDIT: ARGH! ANGRY ZANFORZ! lol I just found the perfect music for writing (Thank you Assassin's Creed 2 OST on YouTube.) but my keyboard is stillbroken I should be getting a new one soon but I so wanna type to this before the end of the day.

EDIT 2: ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,!!! Guess what I got working! lol. This means I can continue typing on this comp. but not tonight. way to late.

Evans stared at the potato for a while, thinking to himself. He held the potato in one hand, while sitting cross-legged on the ground. It truly did look somewhat comical; just a ghoul sitting on the floor while gazing intensely at a vegetable while in a slaver camp. The whole thing was kind of odd though, so it didn't matter much.

"Ok," Evans started. "I heard about this thing you can do where you can use a potato to silence a pistol if you-"

"No, no way." Roberts interjected a tone of finality in his voice. "I heard about that w while back. Doesn't work. Believe me, I've tried it once and I ended up trying-" his speech was cut off as he was forced back into reality by the soft patter of footsteps outside of the tent. The footfalls were muted, but came in quick succession, like someone was silently attempting to sprint. Everyone froze and stood erect as they tried to ready what weapons they had, preparing for a fight. The side of the tent moved some like someone had bumped into it. An indiscernible whisper could be heard as a shuffle of movement came from outside. The sound of something hitting the ground resounded throughout the camp from the other side as the powerful spotlights unexpectedly went black. There was that feeling again. That feeling like Jacobs heart was racing, pumping pure adrenaline rather than blood through his system. Everyone was on edge as they prepared for the first raider to come in.

Outside though, a voice caught Jacobs' attention more than the footsteps as it seemed to desperately plead with another. The situation was probably a lower slaver asking forgiveness for accidently killing the lights. Evans stared at Jacobs and motioned to the box, raising the area where eyebrows would normally be, causing a strange movement of several muscles in his forehead that became visibly clear. It was probably habit, but Jacobs still thought it was a little creepy looking. But he knew what he meant; take advantage of the dark and shoot the lock while all the confusion is around the camp. He thought for a second and decided what needed to be done.

Jacobs pulled back the hammer on his assault rifle and put the barrel to the lock that was clamped around the boxes loops. Everyone plugged their ears as Jacobs pulled the trigger. About five thunderous shots exploded from the gun, each one making the high pitch sound of colliding metal form entering the lock and shattering the internal mechanism. He paid no attention to the absence of screams from outside the tent that should've been raised from the loud noise and opened the metal box. Inside were two sets of dark, forest-green combat armor and a sky blue set of T-51b power armor. Roberts and Evans immediately reached for their things and began to suit up. Under those was an array of weapons that had been scavenged most likely. Jacobs' heart almost stopped when he didn't see the Gauss Machine Gun in there. He pulled weapon after weapon out, each one that wasn't the GMG he threw behind him without so much as a thought as to how much noise it made. When the box was finally devoid of items, Jacobs sank to his knees in defeat. They had lost it, the whole reason Bridge Haven was blown to Hell, the whole reason dozens of innocent civilians had died, gone. He let out a scream of anguish and punched the metal wall that was the safe and sank lower, until he was practically just sitting down. He caught his breath though, as soon as he felt the cold press of metal pushing against the back of his head.

"Stand up," a rough, female voice proclaimed from behind him. "Keep your hands up in the air and drop the gun." He did as he was told and turned around. He completely forgot about his captor though, as soon as he saw that Evans and Roberts had been tied and were being held by two men that clapped their ands over their mouths. "Are you slaver or slave?" the voice continued.

"Well, probably," Jacobs said, still forgetting to turn his attention away from his friends, "slaves. Seeing as how we were forced here I would say captive is more or less the correct term seeing as how we haven't even been clamped by collars yet though."

"Good," The woman said. "Then you should have no problem answering why the hell you're wearing slaver armor and have gotten into the armory tent alive." Jacobs finally turned his head to see the woman in front of him.

Ugh, the whole shutdown of the threads royally screwed me lol. I should be back to posting soon, but don't count on much this weekend, or many weekends at all, I usually have SOMETHING or another to do. It gets kinda annoying, but I'll still try to find time to post.

Did we lose you?

Shiza guys I'm sorry!!

My school is going through testing right now so things are little out of hand. I have some stuff on paper, so give me some time to type it up and I'll put it up as soon as I can.

Once again, I'm really sorry. The testing has gotten me so busy that I lost track of the Jacobs Revolt.

Give me a little while, I'll try this real quick.

Very excellent story and writing is very good.

I have yet to finish all of it but will soon do so.

Please keep writing.

The woman standing in front of him wasn’t exactly the easiest on the eyes. Her face bore a few scars that tan across her cheeks. Her cheekbones were fairly high, which were probably not as high as it looked, but the gaunt cheeks on her face surely didn’t help fix that illusion. Her brown hair was so dark it seemed almost black, and even though it only fell to the back of her neck, it was still matted and knotted. Bother her and the pair behind her had only normal clothes on with a body piece of Dragon Skin tactical combat armor. It was a type of Kevlar that was made up of small Kevlar circles layered over each other in a type of scale-mail sort of design. It was flexible and could stop incoming fire effectively and was relatively easy to find in most Military vaults, among other things. The woman’s blue eyes stared into his own, boring through them as easily as a probe through empty space. If Jacobs didn’t know any better, he would’ve said that she was looking into his very thoughts.

“You’d best stop the psychological portion of this interrogation you’ve got going on here,” he said in a flat voice, giving no hint of fear or anger, “or you may be disappointed at its lack of effectiveness. Believe me lady, a set of ghastly eyes such as yours can’t compare to the s*** I’ve been through today.” He returned her glance by widening his eyes somewhat and intensely gazing into hers. She involuntarily took a step back, but quickly regained her posture and softened her eyes, so that they didn’t have quite the menacing look to them.

“Look, I’m just worried for my team okay? You can’t be too careful around these parts, and you don’t exactly look like a slave by a lot of standards. At least, nothing like the others in this camp.”

“There are others?”

“Plenty. Most of which are mal-nourished and need immediate medical attention. One of the poor guys looked like he was hit by a missile. Burn marks all over, broken bones, plenty of cuts, I’m not even sure if he’ll make it.” Jacobs breathed in a sharp breath as he realized that she was talking about James.

“Alright well I-” he noticed Clayton and Alan still bound by the men behind her. “Not to change the subject,” he said, lightly brushing past her, turning his attention to the two larger men. “but would you kind gentlemen let those men go? They are un-armed now, and I can assure you that they won’t attack.” One just looked at the black haired woman with a question on his face. She curtly nodded and they let them down and undid their binds. She obviously was in control here.

“Happy wise-ass?” one replied.

“Very.” He returned. His focused on the woman once again. “We got here after our city was…attacked, to say the least.”

“More like freakin obliterated.” Clayton cut in.

“Shut it.” Jacobs said, glaring at Evans. “Anyway, when I come to consciousness, I wake up to find us surrounded by these guys.” He poked the body of a raider with his foot. “And we basically just snuck around until we came up to this tent. While a bit more happened in between, I suppose you can guess that we ran into some problems and I wanted a little more protection. And now we’re here, so I can’t go on any further unless you want me to predict the future.”

“Interesting tale.” She said, not a trace of emotion on her face. She didn’t look accepting or believing, but she didn’t exactly look skeptical either. Is it only you three?”

“No,” Alan cut in. “That dude with the burns and stuff, he’s our friend, James Cobrav. He needs some help as you can tell and if I’m right, you guys can help us.”

“That can be arranged, but you’ll have to come with us back to base.”

“And where is that?” Jacobs inquired.

“Only a few hours walk away. We can get some of my men outside to carry your friend, they were going to anyway. It’s a small place, but it’s fortified like none other. We have concrete walls, emplacements all around, constant guarding, the works.”



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more to come soon
Woot, 3rd page.

“Pretty nice setup you got going there,” Jacobs replied. “Any chance you got a doctor or two for James?”

“Yes,” she said cautiously. “But only about five. We would have more but so many are out in field operations right now that we were let with only those. We used to have 10 but they were needed to aid possible injuries on mobile troops.”

“So, you send medics out with all your mobile troops?”

“Well,” She said, a slight wince to her movements as she realized what he was implying. “Normally, yes, we do. But right now we’re just only so far from the base and…” It was obvious that she didn’t really have an explanation as to why they didn’t have a medic. “Listen, point is, there isn’t one here, and we need to get back to base now okay?”

“Alright, your call.” Jacobs returned. He gathered his gear and holstered his .44 magnum, borrowing some ammo from the woman. “Oh,” he said, stopping halfway through his reload of the cylinder. “I never did get your name, mines Jacobs.”

“Jacobs? That’s it? Or is that just the last name?”

“Just the last name. First names aren’t so important in my book.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you Jacobs.” She said, extending her hand. “The name’s Commander Liz Hall.”

“Ooohhh, Commander eh? Then I suppose I should be referring to you as ma’am from now on?”

“Damn right you should.” She said laughing. “now come on, we’d best get moving before sunrise, if we move in the dark, we may not be sighted on the way back.”

“Sighted?” Evans asked. “Sighted by what? You obviously just took out a whole damn slaver base, what else is there around here?” He buckled a latch on his neck to attach his helmet and turned it to correctly face forward. A slight hiss of air could be heard as the automatic filter began working inside of the facemask that was built into the helmet activated and soon disappeared as it ran smoothly.

“Anything really. Yoa Gui, Mole Rats, Deathclaws, Radscorpions, anything that breathes and isn’t us really. Epically Super Mutants, those things run rampant around these parts.”

“Speaking of which, where are these parts?” Roberts said quizzically. “I don’t really remember where we were, but still.”

“We’re about thirty miles southwest of the Capital Wasteland. Not just the mall either, the whole surrounding area. The Muties will occasionally venture down here but not too often. When they do though, they come in packs and they get very hard to kill.”

“Ma’am,” a man said, checking the small, digital watch on his wrist. “We should move. Now. Sunrise is in about an hour and we have a good hike in front of us.”

“Agreed, round up the others and let’s move." She produced a necklace from beneath her armor with a small cross on it and kissed it lightly, putting it back and slipping out of the tent into the dark. The other two men followed and left Jacobs, Roberts, and Evans behind in the tent. They looked at each other as if each were waiting for an answer from one another. When no one said anything Jacobs shrugged and began walking out of the tent, soon followed by the other two. When they got out, they found that they were not only in a company of raider-hunters, but in a rather large one. Marching back behind Hall were at least forty men and women in different sorts of combat armor with an array of weaponry. They marched with a military efficiency as each one stepped in unison. Two of the soldiers were clad in power armor that was painted in a variety of dark brown shades. Ages in the group varied throughout the masses and each one had a, now crimson, combat knife sheathed on their sides as they walked away from the acrid stench of the raider bodies burning.

The ten or so in the back were carrying boxes and sacks of loot from the camp as the ones up front made sure that they had no difficulty moving forward. Everyone was fairly silent until after about two hours of walking, the front line had stopped, making all others halt. To the right was a deathclaw. Normally, this wouldn’t be much of a problem, but there was something significant here. On the deathclaw’s head was a type of helmet-thing. It was a strange contraption that looked almost like metal blinds used to limit the sight of the creature so that it had no peripheral vision. It sniffed the air for a second and a few people in the company leveled their rifles just in case. It looked around, not yet seeing them through the dark. It turned around and began walking up the hill as it lost interest in the scent. A couple of the warriors lowered their weapons while others, paranoid still held theirs. It stopped on the peak of the ridge and turned its head. The beast took what seemed to be an involuntary step back and corrected itself by moving forward and letting out a deafening roar. The creature opened its massive jaws and began to scream in a deep tone that blasted throughout the area like a cannon. It stepped into a combat position, closing its maw, but still baring its teeth. It claws pointed forward as its hunched back’s spikes flared up in the air in attempt to make it look bigger than it already was. The damned thing didn’t even get to attack as it seemed to recoil from a blow only to be struck again and again. It finally stepped back enough so that everyone could see what it was that was attacking it. Some screamed in fear, some just stared, others began firing immediately as they saw that about twelve albino Radscorpions had just swarmed the Deathclaw.

Soon everyone was firing into the white animals, screaming at the top of their lungs with a fiery passion. Screams began to become hard to distinct from gunshots as rounds deflected off of the scorpions’ hardened carapace. What few shots that managed to get through the armor had a significant effect as they recoiled in pain. One came right up on the party and lunged forwards with the stinger, and managed to impale one poor fellow who hadn’t gotten out of the way like the others completely. He shrieked a cry of pain the stopped abruptly as it flung its stinger and widened the hole. The light-skinned beast was laid to rest by a .308 round through the eye by a young man with a mohawk. He went up to the body and stepped on it, stomping the corpse repeatedly. He was unaware of the oncoming other five scorpions as he mocked his kill. His midsection was torn in half as a claw clenched him, tearing flesh and bone as blood poured onto the ground from the gruesome scene. One of the arachnids gave out a hiss, clicking its front mandibles together. Jacobs was just as stunned as his two friends by the sudden occurrence, but was the first to leap to action. He grabbed his .44 magnum and leapt onto the back of one of the monsters and looped his arm around the arm of it. It hissed loudly and he shoved the barrel of the pistol into its mouth and fired three shots. The resulting effect left him splattered with the inside of a Radscorpion’s head.

Roberts was also on top of one of the brutes by now, his assault rifle wildly flying around in his hand, occasionally going off from gripping it too tightly. It tried to stab him, but instead ended up only hitting itself as it plunged the spike on the end of its tail through the hard exoskeleton and into the soft organs inside. It jumped in pain and rolled over, almost crushing Roberts as he rolled away. Jacobs looked to his left as he saw the battle still continuing. There were only about six left, but nearly fifteen bodies lay nearby. He saw as the two figured in power armor went on opposite flanks of one of them, and ran towards it, sandwiching and crushing it with the force of the heavy metal armor running full speed at it from both sides. Two more went down purely from magazine after magazine being loaded into them. One man ran forward with a machete only to be caught in one’s claw. His ribs were gripped and were slowly being crushed. The scorpion raised him in the air and slowly breaking rib after rib. Evans charged at it from the side in this T51-b Power Armor Suit and collided with it like a van hitting a car. It swung to the side and swept its free claw in attempt to hit Evans. He stepped back and tripped, lying on his back as the radscorpion regained its posture. Jacobs was about to fire, when he heard a loud, feminine shriek erupt from the left of the beast. Hall sprinted ahead, screaming at the top of her lungs while firing into its side. When she got right up to it, she stuck her combat knife in the side of its head and watched it collapse. The other creatures had either died or ran off now, and Hall sunk to her knees by the man that was being held by the scorpion.

The man’s entire upper body was covered in a thick, crimson liquid as his face was paper white. His rapid breaths caused his whole body to shift up and down. His eyes were wide open, and his lips and were becoming steadily less focused. Jacobs came over and took off his shirt, holding it at one end with his hand and the other in his mouth. He tore the cloth into strips and quickly moved above the man. He cried out in agony as Jacobs attempted to move him to get the cloth around him.

“Damnit Zachary !” he heard Hall screaming, tears streaming in her eyes as her voice cracked to hit an unusually high note. “Don’t you f***ing die alright?” she grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Don’t f***ing die, don’t leave damnit! We’ve lost enough already. Don’t you dare leave us another short damn you!” she tried to put pressure on the wound as the red liquid seeped through her fingers. Others gathered around, hands over their mouths or heads bowed. The man clenched her fist harder and gave a weak smile.

“Hey Liz?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. “I could really go for a scotch about now. You wouldn’t happen to have any would you?” he gave out a weak chuckle and began coughing. Blood splattered up from his lips and he lied back down on his back, still holding onto Hall’s hand.

“Zach,” she said, holding back a flood of tears. “I promise you that if you get back you can get back, you can have a dozen rounds, on me.”

“Hehe,” he laughed softly. “You know…You know I’ll hold that to ya like none other right?”

“Count on it.” She said. “We need someone to bring him back, someone fast and that can carry him.”

“Yo!” Evans shouted. “Just point the way and I’ll get him there, this power armor has more than enough juice to carry him over a few hours.” She pointed towards a speck of light and saw as Evans nodded in approval. She helped lift Zach into his arms and stared at him, right through his faceplate.

“Be careful with him.”

Still going good. Is this where the fecal matter hits the fan now

above post has been heavily edited, more to come.