Darkwind - Viewing Topic: Thank the gods for Glidden

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Slaughterhouse: Bloody Remains
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"Get the cans up here, HURRY!" yelled Patricia "Pile On" Dalton, the defacto boss Lady of the SlaughterHouse gang. "The wrong people see this and we're toast!"

Four gangers hopped out of the "Ammo Can," a stripped down carrier van the gang used to tote their spare ammo and fuel cans. With a v8 stuffed under the hood, it could run when needed and keep up with the crew.

Each ganger carried two cans of paint.

"Come on, COME ON!" Dalton urged.

Around the three captured merchant Lorries sat the gang's #1 hunter/killer squad: 14 lean, single purpose vehicles. Patricia hung out the door of her Buzzer, "Buffrication," shouting orders as their lead mechanic Miguel "Tremors" Shook directed his underlings in the stripping of lesser vehicles for intact weapons, tires and fuel.

In flaming/smoking heaps around the former battlefield lay 23 "Last Leaf" vehicles. From some hung the charrred remains of crews. Around others lay dead and dying, some trying to drag themselves across the sand to get away from their mauled rides and the enemy that had mauled them.

A few of the SlaughterHouse crew walked about the wreckage, newbs to the crew, trying to prove themselves, finishing off those who lived; or appeared to maybe be living. You could never be too sure.

Two younger crew stood waiting near the first Lorry with long-handled 'mops' of rags strapped to their ends. As the paint-carriers threw the paint onto the Merchant 'colors,' the brushers stepped up and spread the viscous paint around, covering up the markings.

Standing in the open hatch of the Buzzer, Patricia smiled. The haul had been more than she'd bargained for. Over 800 cans of fuel and some rare weaponry. She was glad she decided to turn and attack the convoy after passing it just seconds before, waving as she did to the driver of the lead Lorry.

They'd managed to swing around and get on their tails before they'd gotten more than 50 meters away. A second later, their weapons blazing, they'd lain waste to the entire convoy: without putting a single shot into the Lorries.

After seeing what SlaughterHouse had done to their compatriots, the cargo carriers had tried to run but like a pack of baying Jackals, the SlaughterHouse crew had run them down.

The surprised look on the Lorry driver's face as her Buzzer had screamed past was priceless. Looked like they hadn't expected to be run down by one. She never understood why the crews she'd worked for prior to taking over this bunch had insisted in under-powering their most powerful combat chassis with pickup engines. They couldn't climb or chase.

She listened to the ticking and clicking coming from her Buzzer's cooling 5 Liter and smiled again.

"That about got it?" she asked, directing her question to the paint crew as they slathered the last Lorry.

"Last one Boss!" a paint-splattered newb whose name she couldn't remember said, grinning.

"Then let's saddle up and head home!" she said, putting two fingers to her mouth and letting loose with a shrieking whistle.

All across the sands her crew hustled to mount their vehicles and fall into formation, waiting for Buffrication to lead them out of the carnage.

Half-in his Apache, Brooks Dance paused long enough to pull his magnum, sight on a body about 20 meters away and put one into its head.

"What the hell?" his driver yelled.

"You can never be too sure." he said, grinning. "Let's roll this puppy!"

......................... vet wv
Posted Apr 15, 2011, 5:47 pm

JS
Hitmen Trucking Inc -CI-
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Iva "Gnarly" Howell carefully shaded the binoculars she was using so as not to make them glint from the hammering sunlight. Giving their position away would be poor form, and potentially dangerous. She was just under the rise of of a small hill, watching the events down on the road somewhere near Gateway. Nearby. further down the hill shielded from the people she was observing was an idling Phoenix. Larry "Nit" Whittimore sat in the drivers seat, more than likely still nevously ticking his head every few seconds. The Psionic had been the first to alret them to the scene below, although Gnarly, one of HTI's best scouts had long before seen the dust clouds of the two large convoys. It had been Nit's reaction that made them slow and try to find out what was going on. you had to be an opportunist to survive in the wastes of Evan, so "checking it out" was always a good idea. He had started wincing and mumbling as they got closer, and would not respond other than to get in the drivers seat when Iva got out and told him to stay there. She doubted she would have got him to come closer, especially now that she saw what was going on. His Psionicaly sensitive mind had probably picked up on the carnage in some manner. He was exceedingly odd in that way. Sliding up next to her was the third person on their little jaunt through the wastes, another mutant (they were all three mutants and each uglier than the next) Pam "Paula" Neuman poked her head over the rise to take a look too.

"So what's all that" she said.

Gnarly shook her head, and lowered her binoculars, she'd seen enough. "She spat dryly into the dust. "Just another day in the neighborhood". Paula laughed grimly, and quietly, a disconcerting gurgle from her mutated face.

"So I figured, who is it down there? Are those Last Leaf vehicles burning down there? Who hits them? And especially with that kind of equipment, around here"? Paula paused looking at her friend and waiting for her answer.

Gnarly started to back away slowly so as to not make any dust or movement that could be seen. "Well, not sure, but looks like those Slaughterhouse boys. Interesting because I didn't take em for pirates". Paula followed her friend back down the rise, first sliding backwards, then crouching, then moving carefully upright as they went back to the Phoenix. She followed Gnarlys lead, not being much of a scout herself that was the wisest thing to do.

"Well hell Gnarly, you know "stuff happens" out in the wastes. Hard to gainsay em, coulda been a good reason. Mayhap there wasn't, should we cruise on down and ask"?

Gnarly laughed out loud, little chance the crew on the other side of the hill would hear with all the shooting and carrying on. The sound of engines starting came clearly over the rise. At that she trotted to the Phoenix, a littel bit more spring to her step.

"No way funny girl, lets throw trance boy there into the back seat and clear outta here. Not sure what it means if anything, but we'll report it as usual. I picked a bad time to stop using Y-46's thats for sure". The three of them were actually on the way back to the south after stint of mandatory rehab in Elmsfield. the bos slady had become irate at the level of drug use in her crews when she got to the south a few weeks back and was actively erradicating it. Firing peole, sending others to rehab and such. They had decided to keep their jobs and kick the habit.

With that they pushed the nearly Catatonic Nit into the back seat. Good thing they had not needed him to actually drive. Then they quickly drove off, back tracking for a while before continuing on. Gnarly drove, and Paula quickly jotted down the report in a old world note book they had found.

......................... vet wv pvp5 pvp3 pvp4
Posted Apr 15, 2011, 9:19 pm

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Slaughterhouse: Bloody Remains
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As the convoy rolled towards their digs just outside Gateway Truckstop, Brooks Dance in the trailing Apache watched dirt and dust coat the Merchant Lorries as they rolled down the main drag towards the 'stop.

It had been a risky move taking the Merchant convoy down. There couldn't be any survivors. You didn't last long around civilization if the word got out you were a bushwhakker. When you're hitting the convoys bringing everything the place needs to sirvive, your welcome gets thin real fast if even a whisper gets out.

"We bad or what?" his driver said. "What a haul! I want dibs on that 'Black Gold' 'Runner. I can make a nice flame-spitter outa that."

"Ya, we bad." he answered. Then he remembered an old movie poster he'd found in an abandoned building. "The Hills Have Eyes"

He closed his and leaned back. "We bad."

......................... vet wv
Posted Apr 15, 2011, 10:11 pm