"They look great but I can only afford the one we agreed on unless you're spoiling me?" Jari replied with a smile as he handed over the spliff, completing his side of the trade.  He then screwed the top of his five litre canteen tight, tipped it upside down to ensure that it wasn't leaking and then stowed it back inside his pack.

Before Tiff could clarify whether she was being generous or not over the oranges, the deal had been for one but Jari wasn't going to turn down two, another voice called over to rifleman.


Jari turned and looked at the new arrival, quickly recognising the distinctive looking former cop.  His smile broadened further as he extended his hand in greeting.

"Hey there Higgins.  Good to see you again.  It most certainly is a small world these days but people like you do your bit preventing it descending further!"  He then turned to Tiff to ensure that introductions were conducted correctly as he had been taught at school many, many years ago.  A lifetime ago.

"Tiff, this here is Higgins.  A good man.  Was a cop before the war and still is one now.  Higgins, this is Tiff.  A merchant who trades fair and keeps her sons in order."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am" Higgins said, clearly uncomfortable with the social interaction. He was a man used to a solitary existence on The Road. Though he once was a part of society, that part of him died when the bombs rained down. Now he just did his part to keep together whatever scraps of humanity still existed. It was a losing proposition and one that would eventually get Higgins killed. Which was kind of the idea.

Unsure what else to say, Higgins just stood there awkwardly.

Jari remembered now just how awkward Higgins seemed to be in group situations.  There was undoubtedly a story somewhere about why but Jari hadn't heard it and he didn't know the cop well enough to ask.  The man seemed to prefer privacy whenever he could find it and Jari respected that.  He had tried solitude himself for a couple of years further east in the mountains but in the end he had realised that he needed to talk to a living, breathing person every once in a while and that he would go mad if he stayed isolated on his own.

It was better selling his services as a hired gun, wandering from community to community, hiring on with merchants as a guard whenever he could.

"Why you here in Travel Stop Higgins?  You need a hand with something again?"  As he asked the questions he realised that they were dangerous ones.  Helping Higgins with anything was liable to be a tug at the heart strings and not something that would put food in his belly, though it would probably make him feel better as a human being.

"Bike," he said, as if that explained it. He jerked a thumb toward his ride to be sure what he was saying was clear, which it was not. "Lookin for the Wrecker. He's gone so I thought I'd see about getting some water."

"Well Tiff can help you with water as long as you've got something to trade," replied Jari as he looked off to where Higgins had indicated.

"Hmm," the gruff cop said. "I don't have much of anything to trade. You got any problems need solving?"

Tiff smiled but it didn't reach her eyes.  She screwed the cap back on the water jug.

"It's cash only.  I don't give anything away on credit."

Higgins did not respond to the woman. He wasn't in the habit of carrying around trinkets, though he understood baubles were tradable. Truth be told he didn't usually need to trade for stuff. Usually he did stuff and folks gave him things in return. It was the idea of an honest day's work, rather than looting and trading. Turned his stomach, truth be told.

He turned to Jari, ignoring the woman, and asked, "What brings you to the Travel Stop?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:07, Fri 12 June 2015.

Jari laughed a half laugh to himself and nodded at Tiff, concluding their deal.  Taking one of the oranges he stowed it in his pocket to eat later.  "Thanks and see you around," he said to her as he hefted his pack onto his back and headed off in the direction of the Bunker, taking Higgins with you.

"You need to start picking up the bits perps drop to fund yourself," he commented to the Cop as they walked.  He then returned to Higgins' question.  "What am I doing here.  Well, now I'm looking for a new job.  Was riding as gunner on a truck but it got hairy and we took a couple of casualties.  The guy who runs the truck needs to do some repairs and he's gonna be laid up here a while I reckon so that's me out of a job and looking for a new one.  Got some food and a couple of bits of trade so I'm not about to starve but I need more ammo and juice in my batteries so I'd better start looking for a job sharpish.  Gonna start at the Bunker for now and try and sort out my ammo situation."  It was clear that was the direction he was headed, leading Higgins.

He glanced again at older man before continuing.  "How about you?  Why are you here?  After someone?"

Higgins looked at Jari. "No," he said. "Like I told you I'm looking to get my bike fixed. I'm wanting to get back out onto the Road as soon as possible." Higgins felt like his place was out on the Road. He was there to defend innocents. Atonement for failing in his duty long ago. He knew the Road would kill him eventually. That was sort of a part of the plan. He didn't have time for bits and baubles, and if folks were too stupid to realize he was there to help then maybe he didn't deserve their charity.

The old cop debated leaving right then. He had no interest in whatever job Jari was likely to get into. Then again, maybe this was where Higgins was meant to be. Fate and all that shit.

"Want company at the Bunker?" he asked, more than awkwardly.

Jari nodded in reply to Higgins.

"Yea, feel free to join me at the Bunker.  Maybe they'll feel generous and donate you some rounds to keep you policing the road," he added with a grin.

"You got something out on the road you're in a hurry to get back to?"

Higgins shakes his head.

"The Road is..." he trails off, not sure what to say. The Road was life and the Road was death. The Road was the path back to civilization and it was the path to chaos. The Road was his penance.

"I just need to be back there - with or without my bike. I'll hang here, go with you to the Bunker, but if the Wrecker isn't back by the time we're done, I have to get back out there." There was determination in his voice. A dark void that would be filled only by the man's death and a grim realization of that fact.

Jari just nodded in response to Higgins.  He did't pretend to understand the man and his need to be back out on the road as Jari would much rather be kicking back and relaxing somewhere safe than out in the wilds where people were trying to shoot him.  Higgins was wound tight and you had to respect his dedication to his self appointed purpose, even while you wondered what would happen when he snapped.

He led Higgins across to the bunker, looking to do a trade and maybe see if there was any work going.

The main drag still bustled with activity as Alpha Company shuttled their bikes, trucks, and heavy 8-wheeled military rigs from the fuel stations to the Days Inn, and hawkers of all kinds converged on the troops to sell their wares.

The Bunker was a squat one-story building surrounded by barriers made from dirt poured into four-foot wire frames covered in fabric, stacked in a rough truncated pyramid three high and four deep. It was impossible to tell what the building had been before the war, but some people still called it Jack in the Box.

Jari and Higgins were admitted easily enough after pulling a cord which jangled a bell somewhere in the interior.  Past the zig-zagged dirt barriers, the entryway was an interesting contraption.  A heavy steel door, obviously from another structure, formed the main barrier, and behind it was a barred steel gate, resembling that of a prison cell.  A visitor to the Bunker would find himself in a cage armored with steel plates, about the size of a spacious elevator.  A small window for transactions to take place stood in front of the entryway, and another heavy door stood to the right.  Only when the steel gate closed would the window open, and above the visitor's cage rested a barred platform on which rested more dirt filled barriers.

Jari strode into the cage with the air of someone who was expecting this, someone who had been here before.  Once inside he levered his backpack off his shoulders and placed it at his side, his rifle hanging lazily from its three point assault harness.  The Velcro of a side pocket still gave a quiet ripping noise as he opened it, removing what was either a very large, oversized bullet or a small artillery shell.  Either way it had been wiped clean of any dirt in an attempt to give it a fresh out of the box look.

When the outer door of the cage was closed and the trade hatch was open Jari then held it up for inspection.

"Howdy there," he said to whatever merchant appeared to conduct business. "Got me a forty mill grenade here for trade.  Genuine unfired round from US Military stocks.  And it's not just HE but an HEDP round designed to give your thumper some AT capability.  Perfect for stopping some arsehole who's trying to ruin your day."

Jari let the merchant look at his trade but not take hold of it completely.  Trust only went so far these days.

"Now for trade I'm looking for seven six two rounds or point four five ACP rounds.  You got anything you can offer me?"



OOC - I've left it unclear whether Higgins is also in the cage as I'm not sure whether it's big enough or whether he'd come in.

[OOC: Says the cage is "about the size of a spacious elevator" but I appreciate you not assuming Higgins would follow you in. Is it safe to assume my bike can be parked safely or is that not the case? If not, Higgins would not want to leave it. It does have a kill switch, I believe. I'll assume it is safe but if not I'll need to edit post.

Higgins followed Jari's lead. He was riding shotgun on this one, and was mostly just along for lack of anything better to do. He stayed close to the other man, keeping his hand near his gun just in case. Higgins' eyes scanned the surroundings, staying aware of what was happening in all directions. He did not like being locked in the steel cage, but that was unavoidable. He stood by while Jari worked his deal, wondering where he got the grenade.

From The Slow Ride, Westbound

Motel 6 Parking Lot

The congestion had abated somewhat, and Lucas had an easy time threading his big truck through the pedestrians and vehicles before pulling into the big transient lot across the street from the Motel 6.  It was crowded with rigs.  Up-armored muscle cars rested next to stripped down jeeps and custom-rigged tow vehicles, their crews lounging under tarps and salvaged camo nets.  Some men and not a few women gambled and drank despite the hot sun, and an impromptu fight drew shouts and wagers from the onlookers.  Many stopped to look when Lucas big truck pulled past them and stopped next to the old VW van.

In reply to Jari Helminen (msg # 119):

The Bunker

The trader who peered out at Jari from behind the steel grill was a tanned prune-faced man with a mangy goatee.  He closely looked over the 40mm grenade, and nodded when he finished his examination.

"I ain't got no .45 caliber.  Those man-stoppers are in demand.  They kill wild hogs too.  But I do have your 7.62 mil.  It's new make out of Bakersfield, Alpha Company's own shop.  Not reloads.  I'll give you twenty.  That's enough to fill up a magazine."

From The Slow Ride, Westbound
Motel 6 Parking Lot

Christmas bagged the shells Yollie had loaned her and sprang from the cab. She whistled to Yollie and held the family shotgun out for her to collect, its bindle of ammunition looped around the stock. She watched Donny and Beth, giving a rote gesture mom had used, which seemed to mean 'hope ya don't die'. She shifted her weight to hear her boots creak and decided she'd maybe get fresh before hitting up Alpha Crew and the Six.

Motel Six

Crow directs Lucas to his old VW near Motel Six.

When they came to a stop, Crow motioned the others to help him carry her into the beat up old bus.

"I'm going to have to go in and locate the bleeding and stop it. Going To Be Touch AND go, and it will take supplies. Either way it goes I get paid."

"We clear?"  Crow asked his patient's husband.

Jari stared at the trader unsure whether the offered price was fair or not.  In reality he had no idea of the true value of the 40mm grenade, he only knew that he didn't have a weapon capable of firing it and that he had never actually fired one before, even when he had been a kid in school.  It was therefore just dead weight to him, something to be traded for as much as possible.

That didn't solve his immediate question though.  How much was this grenade worth?  Based purely on the assumption that the trader was taking the piss, and trying to get himself a bargain, Jari doubled the man's offer as a starting point.

"I was thinking more like forty," he replied with his counter offer.  "Let's see one first to have a look at the quality.  You say they're new manufacture but I want to look at one first."


18:46, Today: Jari Helminen rolled 34 using 1d100. Bargain task check. - that's a fail

"Thanks, Chris. I'm really glad you didn't have to use it." She smiles a straps the weapon across her back. It looked silly, given how big it was compared to her tiny frame.

"Good luck, Beth," she said genuinely before turning to Crow.

"I don't know much about real doctor'in, but I can hold things and keep light on her and bring in water. Whatever you need help with."

She stood out, stock still, hot sun reflecting off of her well tanned skin and platinum blonde hair as the hot breeze blew it slowly, waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, we got lucky," Christmas agreed, eyes searching the Travel Stop sprawl through the conflict-shades. She had a single round of something that'd kill most rigs and figured at this point it'd do her the most good getting cashed at the bunker. Her gaze lingered on Beth as she turned to Lucas.

"I guess I'll be back for the dog and I'll let you know if I find any real work, Luc. Looking forward to hosing off..." She looked out, searching for her rig. Something about the way Yollie's gun dwarfed her made Christmas sigh, reluctant to reveal her eyes. They were probably about the same age, she realized, but there was something that bothered her about withholding experience -- she'd almost died acquiring it, after all. She looked back at the other girl.

"Yollie, don't help guys like this -- guys you don't know with sick kids, shot moms, burning farms, whatever. Do it enough times and one of them'll get you worst-cased, one way or another."

Christmas began trudging back towards her rig.

Yollie was about to respond to Christmas - to protest, to tell her she was wrong, that people were good - but she couldn't find the words. In her heart and mind, she knew she was right. She knew she wasn't from someplace safe like East Highland Hills. She was from out there.

And out there people were horrible to one another; they did unspeakable things to one another. Or at least, that's what her parents always scared her straight with. But after meeting some of the strangers at the Travel Stop, she knew the stories had to contain a modicum of truth.

"I... I have to at least try," she managed to say, but Christmas was already walking away.

She sighed and looked at Lucas who had always done right by her. Would he hurt her too if he had the chance? If no one was around? If there were no repercussions.

Suddenly she felt alone and vulnerable, but something inside her stilled her resolve.

"You're going to be OK, Beth." She repeated.

For better or worse, she would see the woman through. And if it bit her in the ass, then at least she had a shotgun.

"You do dat Christmas-girl." Lucas nodded to her as they parted.
Then he went to see about his business with the station wagon owner.

He found Donnie anxiously hovering near Crows VW van.
"Mr. Donnie? I'll hold yuz wagon until we settle up.
I'll be checkin' it out when I get back to da garage, but foist I's gotta get back to my trailer an do some tradin' here. It's market day.
...Youse can ask anybody where my garage is. It ain't far."

...an uh... Good Luck with da wife." A guilty look briefly passed across Lucas face  "..I'll be prayin for yuz."

Lucas tipped his filthy cap bill to Yollie nearby, and he almost smiled:
"You take care girlie! Your folks need any repairs? You give me a holler!"

Lucas turned back to his rig to see the stiffening dead body of the loonie still chained to his back bumper.
A bit of something liquid dripped out of it onto the cracked asphalt pavement.

"Ahh hell... Dont got time ta go carve up dat sumbitch right now."
Lucas opened a container on the side of the Wrecker and took out a tarp.
He unfolded it and covered over the body with it, securing it snugly with some twine.
It would hold for the short slow trip back to his trading trailer.

He called up to Scaff, who was climbing back into the sleeper cab after having helped unload the wounded wife into Crow's van.
"Alright Scaff-boy? We headed back to da trailer... You got overwatch again. Dont fall asleep in there!"

Lucas started up the rig to return to his trailer load of trade goods.
The rumble of the Wreckers powerful engine sounded good.