In reply to The Marshall (msg # 324):

Dismounting after his crossing, Roadkill called Trask and "Cannibal" Jack over.

"Cannibal, old buddy. Got something for you." He unslung the 4.73mm caseless HK G22 rifle that he brought from the cab. "This belongs to a friend of mine, Colonel Schaeffer. Schaeffer dove on a grenade in a bar to save his friends, the members of this posse. He's in hospital in Junkyard right now, they are giving him new plastic and metal heart and lungs. The son of a bitch who done that is Kargo, the biker ashole we're chasing. I seen that old lever-gun you are packing and want you to have this, just bring it back. Also, that jerkoff who took out the Colonel stole the Colonel's girl's hoverbike. So I think he'd approve. Go ahead. Don't worry about cleaning it, I already done that this morning."

The weapon was loaded with a dual 50 round magazine containing a block of 16 4.73mm caseless Light AP rounds, and 25 rounds of 4.6mm FMJ. There was another 50 rounds each of 4.5mm LAP and FMJ (in 25-round blocks) stored on either side of the barrel. On the top of the receiver a 4x optical sight with illuminated reticule was mounted. Roadkill kept the Colonel's sidearm, a bulky 4.73mm Mauser '70 machinenpistole.

"Trask, I realise I don't have the handguard parts for you to carry the M2B. Want to borrow the M260 (SA SAW)?"

Cannibal Jack holds up his hand... "Friend... thank you, but if anything happened to your friends rifle while I had possession of it.... Well, Sorry.  Just couldn't let that happen. Thanks for the offer, but I'll pick up something off the dead we are tracking."

In reply to Roadkill (msg # 326):

"If we can mount the M2 on one of the vehicles I'll happily stand behind it, otherwise I'm fine with the weapon I have. Thanks anyway."


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In reply to 'Cannibal' Jack Hayes (msg # 327):

Roadkill looked quizzically at Jack and shook his head.

"The Colonel's in the Hellstromme Memorial Hospital ICU. He's gonna be there for months while they repair his ribcage, heart, lungs, spine... it ain't gonna do him any good while he's in there. Besides, he's still got his Mauser sniper rifle.

"Trask, I gotta keep the Ma-Deuce 'cause I'll be all alone. I got an IA driver, "Gilles", and I'll be manning the Ma-Deuce up top for some firepower."

Smoker looked round.

"Where am I to go, then?"

In reply to Roadkill (msg # 329):

"No problem, I understand." While they are stopped Trask opens up his suit and gets out to take a piss while everyone works out were they are going to be sitting.


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 "Should have enough space in the hummer Smoker." the junker says as he chuckles.

Trask was able to fit in the Humvee by standing in the top hatch. Along with him were crammed Marcela (driving), Smoker and Brother Edgar. In the technical, Peter was driving with Crichton riding shotgun and Jane on the bed-mounted Ma-Deuce. A 55-gallon drum of spook juice plus a few days of Milrats each were transferred from the trailer to the pickup, just in case.

Marshall's Note: I made a best guess as to who was where. I need a drive check from Peter as well.

Peter gave a nod once more to Roadkill. "Be safe, but do not take too long, my friend." A small smile.

He pulled Jane aside for a moment, spoke a few quiet words and then gave her a quick kiss.

Then he mounted back up in the technical. He glanced at Crichton and gave a nod of greeting. Then he started up the truck and lead the way. He got moving up to a good pace, wanting to cut down the lead their quarry had gotten on them.

Smoker gathered his stuff and got into the Hummer. He waved to Roadkill.

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg # 335):

Roadkill climbed up onto the trailer as he enabled Gilles (the Junker-built driver bot) to take over controls. He waved at Smoker, then pulled the charging handle on the Ma-Deuce to ready it to fire.

In reply to Roadkill (msg # 336):

"Alors! God speed and show no mercy!" Gilles transmitted over the CB.

In reply to Gilles the Driver Bot (msg # 337):

With the rig not slowing them down they made good time. Over the next hours the Posse had good luck and high-balled it south down Confederate Interstate 49. The tracks became fresh with splash marks and tire tracks charging through streams and puddles scarcely dry in the humid heat, and broken vegetation was still fresh.

Their quarry turned east towards the Mississippi river and continued along a stretch of Confederate Interstate, CI-10, that had been abandoned and deactivated even before the war to become part of the Atchafalaya Nature Reserve. This was very unusual as they seemed to be trapped, there were no other side routes through the wild overgrown forests and the stub of abandoned Interstate even ended short of the Mississippi. Not that there were any functioning bridges left over the great sludgy river at this time.

OOC: Everyone can make Cognition checks.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:47, Thu 21 Mar 2019.

Jane leaned down and opened the slit window that allowed for communication between the cab and the gunner in the bed.

"Is that something up ahead?"

In reply to Jane Guin (msg # 339):

Indeed it was. Standing in the passenger side roof hatch of the technical, Crichton could also see a rapidly-dissipating cloud of green spook-juice fuel exhaust just above the next bend in the old interstate. They were getting really close due to Peter's expert driving with the Humvee following as best it could.

Whatever it was it was maybe half a mile ahead on the overgrown abandoned CI-10 Interstate. The trouble was, there was nothing ahead except more swamp and forest.

  "Their lead is down to about a half mile or so. Only thing is nothing but swamp ahead."

In reply to Tech. Sgt. Airen Crichton (msg # 341):

Whoops... I meant to say swamp, forest and through the middle of it, the Mississippi river. You are in what once was the Atchafalaya National Wildlife Refuge and Recreation Area.

Trask tried to get a scan of the vehicles so he could provide some intel to the team of what they faced. He started the sensor sweep once they were in range of the enemy while at the same time having his weapons at his shoulder and at the ready.


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Brother Edgar tried to see what the others had seen, narrowing his eyes and looking to the fore.  Taking up the Humvee's radio, he tried to talk to the crew of Peter's truck, "This is....Brother Edgar?...  Over?  It occurs to me that they would only take this road if they knew where they were going.  There's no reason to think they were fleeing us so wildly that they mistakenly fled into the great swamps with their backs to the river.  How best to follow someone into their...home ground?  Over?  Hello?"

Peter trusted Jane. If she said she saw something, then she saw something, even if he had to concentrate on driving. Crichton confirmed it only moments later. Peter frowned. Swamp? That was not good. Brother Edgar's voice came over the radio. Peter responded via radio as well.

"A swamp is not a good place to drive in. And if they are familiar with the swamp, then that is even worse for us." He shook his head and sighed. "But we have little choice. We will just have to be...careful." Pause. "Over."

So he angled to follow the trail, wanting to catch up before they got too far but not wanting to be reckless once inside the swamp.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 345):

Cannibal Jack adds to the talk. 'As long as we don't hear Banjos.... Well, mostly if we don't hear Banjos. Mostly'

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 345):

Jane looked up at the road ahead and then stuck her head back down in the cab's rear window.

"Peter, we gonna speed up and try to catch 'em before they get where they're going? Or slow down in case they try and ambush us?"

Peter let out a small shake of his head at Jane's question. He liked both of those things, honestly, but he couldn't do both. So he had chosen one. "I don't know the swamp at all and it can be dangerous to drive too fast, so we are going at the same pace and hope they stop at some point." He shrugged. " Keep your eyes and ears peeled!"

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 348):

As they approached the river through the forest travelling along the abandoned interstate, they passed a few old shot-up signs from before the war about nature, wildlife and recreational water sports in the Atchafalaya Nature Preserve and Water Recreation Area. This had been a well-known destination in the Confederacy famed for its wildlife, hunting and loud personal watercraft.

Suddenly, they started to see moss-covered walls and buildings among the forest. Collapsed houses, walls falling into piles of brick and concrete. But they looked really old, sinking into the ground, and were covered with graffiti and bullet holes. And not just a few, all over the place. There had been a city here once, except it didn't show on the prewar maps and its existence was a complete mystery to everyone who travelled and knew about prewar geography.

Trask was getting a strange feeling about this place, a perfect place for an ambush on the enemies home ground. He tried to keep ahead of the enemy when it came to potential hiding places, lining them up with his rifle as they passed.


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