The oncoming Humvee didn't act aggressively but didn't slow down either. It just simply moved over to get by the convoy without hassle. Under the helmet, goggles and bandanna the Humvee gunner's features were hard to determine. He or she made no particular move to threaten the posse's vehicles.

Soon the Humvee was past them and receding. Ahead of them was the road arrowing west through the Kansas farmland under glowering clouds.

Soon, the convoy turned north along I-135 towards Salina, Kansas. They made the empty-seeming ruins of Salina by mid-day, turning left on I-70 then right on Highway 283 to Nebraska. By the end of the day (around 1600 hours) they would make I-80 and finally the town of North Platte, along the river of the same name.

Posse's Daily Route:

http://maps.google.ca/maps?sad...ia=1&t=p&z=7

Rowan moves back on point slightly to one side of the lumbering Humvee's path. She rides wondering what is happening behind them
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:18, Mon 09 Jan 2012.

"Keep an eye on that Hummer Smoker. If it doubles back let us let me know. To much wierdness with it to sit well."

1700 Hours

The Humvee didn't return, and receded in the distance behind them. The convoy travelled on, hitting the FEBA at the old border around noon.

Between the now-meaningless border between the USA and CSA stretched the Wall. It seemed that it had just always been there since the Southern War of Independence. In some areas it was a simple wall, in other areas it was a defensive zone miles deep on either side.

Fierce back and forth battles had taken place across the Kansas-Nebraskan border. They threaded slowly between minefields and barbed wire traps, around burned out vehicles, and past destroyed and empty bunkers and entrenchments. A safe route through the mass of obstructions had been cleared years ago to permit travel across the old battle area. It was completely deserted, even the dead seemed to have fled the area years ago.

Once past the border Wall they made North Platte, Nebraska, without seeing another soul. That evening they looked for a place to overnight along the North Platte river. They were in a shallow prairie valley in the middle of slowly-recovering grasslands. There were a few abandoned farms in the grassland, the town beside the river, or out on the plains themselves.

OOC: Where do you want to camp?

Airen looks around for what he consides safe sleeping areas.

Some where either elevated or enclosed by solid walls is my vote.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:45, Tue 10 Jan 2012.

This part of Nebraska wasn't particularly known for high ground. The Interstate ran along a shallow river valley, around them stretched the great plains from Kansas in the south to the Dakotas in the north. The river was to the right (north) of the Interstate, the old townsite in between.

They passed what might have been a military installation of some kind just to the right of the interstate, probably a supply depot located in the "Iron Eagle" golf course. That is, there was a large crater marking the probable location from where it was vapourised by a tactical nuclear strike. Schaeffer, Jane and Crichton estimated it had been a ground or subsurface burst somewhere in the .3 to .5 KT yield range. This long after the war the radiation outside the crater from fallout and debris had faded away.

The abandoned town site along the North Platte river had not only been damaged by the suffered repeated air strikes and artillery barrages. There were a few intact buildings in town, although there were many more partially-burned out shells and standing walls. If there were any survivors in the area (and there might well be a few) they hadn't built a walled settlement since the war. There was plenty of high ground along the ridgelines along the river, but of course that would provide a nice silhouette for anyone that was looking.

If they wanted to detour a few miles there was a line of hills to the south of the river:

http://maps.google.com/maps?q=...ska&t=p&z=11

Marshall's Note: This should show up as a topographical map, if not, then select Maps and then terrain.

Over the radio "So shelter is a little scarce here guys. I don't think the blast crater is a good idea so do you guys want to camp along the river or in the ruins?

"Just about anywhere sounds good aright about now."
jane isnt fighting to keep her eyes open, but she can feel herself slowing down

Rowan considers for a moment then replies

"I would sugest the ruins water attracts things"

"Certainly could use a kip soon"
he yawns over the CB like a pure Luddite
"Hopefully we can find a nice place to hide our machines."
A cheeky somewhat evil grin comes over his face
"Schaeffer, can you get your wife to get the kettle on as soon as we park"

In reply to Roadkill (msg #60):

Smoker climbed down from the trailer to join the posse's little pow-wow.

"Let's keep our eye out for a barn or warehouse, then. Should be something around the outskirts of town. Maybe a truck stop."

Peter snorted at Rowan's comment, but only half-heartedly. "And ruins DON'T?" He smiled then and shrugged. "Six to one, half-dozen the other, really. I would say I'm tired and don't care but that would be a gross understatement and definitely not new information to anyone."

He gave a nod and climbed back into the technical. He would be glad to stop for a rest even though he never truly got any.

Once the camp site is decided on Rowan lets trickster out, "go have a run and a look around little friend".


Then sets up a small camp for Kurt and het self.
She is armed the whole time
This message was last updated by the player at 22:51, Thu 12 Jan 2012.

Trickster hops out and sniffs the evening air, a small yip escapes him as he trots, out to see what he can find, chases his own tail for a moment then a dust devil for sheer fun.
better he thinks, life is good some where safe to sleep durring the day and new strange areas to explore at night and food when he is hungry

Tuesday 10 March 2094
0600 Hours

With a bit of searching they found a huge abandoned and partially collapsed warehouse, some kind of school maintenance depot. The sign said "South Platte Schools Maintenance". It looked like several rigs could fit inside and was thoroughly looted. After a dinner meal they set sentries and retired for the night.

Nothing disturbed their sleep except for the nightmares of some of the posse. The next day dawned cloudy, as of the sky were contemplating rain.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:03, Fri 13 Jan 2012.

Deciding that maybe the depot wasn't picked clean, Smoker (as a professional scavenger) looked around to see if he could find something to salvage and later sell.

However, despite a couple hours effort of looking he came up empty.

"Goddamn, thought I'd find something."

Peter laid to sleep soon after their arrival at the depot. He was tired, bone-tired and weary, but he was used to being that way ever since the bombs had dropped and that family had come into his life. He tossed and turned as he slept, sweat broke out and his body shuddered several times.

Then he suddenly sat bolt upright where he'd been laying. His eyes were wide open, as wide as they could go, as was his mouth as if open in a silent scream. His body shuddered and then unclennched, and he let out a long hacking cough.

"Shit. I hope that was just a dream. I wouldn't want all them folk t'actually be dead."

Jane dismounted after securing Ma Duce, and pciked a section of wall to lay against, waking only once to shift position

Rowan Streaches in the early morning light a small warm mass on her one side Kurt on the other
she considers what she has learnt
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:09, Fri 13 Jan 2012.

In reply to Rowan Dawson (msg #69):

Dim cloud-filtered light that leaked into the cavernous depot warehouse through holes in the roof, Rowan looked over the cook book she'd removed from the spectral Cathedral of Doom. It looked like some kind of vanity press printing from a small Net-order house.


Such books had become popular for small-time authors since computerised publishing had supplanted but not replaced printed books a few decades back. Probably no more than a hundred copies had been printed, if that, and it could have been a dozen. Or one.

Rowan sits there in the fire light reading and memorising
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:54, Sat 14 Jan 2012.

0630 Hours
Low overcast


After a light breakfast and some topping up of the fuel tanks, the posse was ready to get on the road. The sky was hidden by a curtain of clouds. Not rain, not yet...

They pulled out onto the Interstate. Trejo pulled out in front again, and this time as Roadkill was driving the rig he let him. Michaela joined him. The rig came next, then Rowan and Schaeffer, then the technical.


Marshall's Note: The bikes can be up front or between the rig and the technical. If it's important please specify, I'll assume the bikes are split up (some ahead and some in the middle of the formation) unless told otherwise. Schaeffer is NPC'd for a little while until Marc is back in the saddle so he'll ride wherever Rowan does.

In reply to The Marshall (msg #72):

Ian sits in the rig, he starts up some small conversation with Roadkill to pass the time.

1130 Hours
Cloudy

Outside Cheyenne, Wyoming

The small convoy ran east along I-80, beside the North Platte river across the great plains of Nebraska. They crossed into southern Wyoming, technically a no-go area due to the possibility of running into Combine patrols. Cheyenne didn't have a permanent Combine presence but Black Hats often set up roadblocks to force travellers to surrender tribute that was then sent back to Denver.

To get around the likely Combine CPs (Checkpoints) and the Ghost Storm over Cheyenne, they detoured north using back roads. Trejo and Michaela were running a couple miles ahead. Smoker had loaned Michaela his walkie-talkie, as she didn't have one and Crichton had a radio in his IBS helmet they could use up top.

They were riding west along Iron Mountain Rd towards the I-80 interchange. If there was a good place for a roadblock, this was it. The land was flat and mostly barren, with a few dead or struggling bushes, patches of yellow long grass. They passed a few abandoned ranches, although they were now passing the large homes of the furthest suburbs of Cheyenne.

In front, Trejo and Michaela stopped to survey the Interstate ahead to see if there was anyone blocking their way.

http://maps.google.com/maps/ms...pn=0.126533,0.184708
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:02, Sun 15 Jan 2012.

Michaela scanned the area ahead, where the road they were on (Iron Mountain Rd.) passed underneath the Interstate. She passed her binoculars over the Trejo.

"What do you think, you see anything blocking the way?"