Smoker grinned down from his perch, then resumed a scanning overwatch. One large 'gator might not be their only problem, and they'd certainly made enough noise dispatching it!

Brother Edgar, still standing next to the passenger seat of the Humvee, found himself staring into the snout of the very large, thankfully dead, gator.  He slowly lowered his hand and breathed.  Apparently he had forgotten to breathe for a moment.  Once he had breath, he offered a quiet, extremely, heartfelt prayer to the Glow for this successful evolutionary test.

Trask wanted a closer look at the beast so he climbed down from the rig and went over. He walked it's length and then with his left fist raised he turned to the others, "Should we have a go skinning it ?" A long Vibrosword blade begins to extend from his cured up fist.


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In reply to Brother Edgar (msg # 277):

Cannibal Jack "The thugs we follow may have gone this way. The gator might have had something else it was eating or may have just arrived"

In reply to Increase Trask (msg # 278):

A shaken Marcela climbed out from under the Humvee. She took a few steps towards the fallen monster. Smoke still curled up from the gaping exit wound on the rear of its sloped and armoured skull. It actually smelled pretty good.

"Wow. Just wow. Uh, let's carve up a steak, maybe take a tooth? I think the truck did go by here. Can't tell with the hoverbike. Don't know why it attacked us and not the other rig."

Brother Edgar lifted a brow as he stepped out from the door, looking over the very large pile of gator meat-to-be, "I do not know how much time we have to spare to properly butcher this and catch our quarry..."  He pulled a scanning device from a belt pouch, made a few adjustments, and then began a quick check over the gator.  The device made the particularly distinctive clicks of a geiger counter.

In reply to Brother Edgar (msg # 281):

"Don't butcher the whole thing. Carve a couple steaks out while we ford the rig."

In reply to Brother Edgar (msg # 281):

What sounded like a Geiger counter was indeed a Geiger counter. The gator meat did seem a little high on rads. Not enough to be dangerous unless it was all you ate for a month. Certainly they'd probably all had worse!

By the marks of the distinctive tire treads Trask did determine that the rig they were looking for did come this way a few hours before. He did not find evidence they had engaged in any kind of a fight with the gator, but he did find evidence (old shell casings) that someone had within the last few days.

Peter was still in the process of slowly turning towards the commotion by the time it was over (OOC: thanks suprise fail!). His eyes were wide and his hands were moving towards one of his guns. He spun in place but...it was all over but the crying at that point.

"Uhh...wow. Good shooting." He heart rate started to slow back down from the momentary spike of adrenaline. "That...is BIG." He glanced at their 'local guide'. "Are those...common around here?"

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 284):

Marcela sighed, raggedly. "Y-yes. And this isn't the biggest one I've heard of, either."

Putting away his counter, Brother Edgar drew his knife.  Largish as knives go, but utilitarian.  A tool for just such an occasion.  He moved down the tail of the beast, with some memory that the tail was where the best meat would be found.  Compared to the gator, the knife was nothing but a toothpick of course, but...it was the tool he had.  While the others sought tracks, Brother Edgar sought gator tail steaks.

In reply to Brother Edgar (msg # 286):

Putting the G22 back in the rack, Roadkill dismounted.

"Peter, man, that was some scary shit! You guys done with them steaks? Let's get this show on the road!"

In reply to Roadkill (msg # 287):

Within a few minutes they were done with carving chunks of fresh meat out of the fallen behemoth.

Slowly, birdsong and the buzz of insects began to return to the impenetrable moss and vine-covered forest around them.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 288):

Shrugging off the effects of her near-death experience, Marcela got back into the police Humvee.

"All aboard! We'll ford first."

  Crichton climbs into the Humvee and settles the gun next to himself so he has easy access to it and gets as comfortable as a Humvee will let him.

Trask takes a couple of teeth and the climbs back up to his perch ready to go.


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In reply to Increase Trask (msg # 291):

Cannibal Jack cleans a 30/30 round and inserts it into the rifle and settles in to his 'seat' to observe for movement.

"Such a rapid burst of thunder from our guns surely has made aware of the weak to go away, the chased to hasten their pace, and the foolhardy to seek us"

Brother Edgar takes the new carved steaks to the back of the humvee.  He finds something to wrap them in or put them on at least.  Maybe something to wipe off his hands and knife.  That done, he returns to his "shotgun" seat, "Ready when you are, driver."

Peter gave a slow nod to Roadkill and stayed well back while some people chopped up the gator. He moved away and kept an eye out around them - both to watch for trouble, and also to not watch the gator being carved up. He wasn't squeamish, he just wasn't in the mood.

When they were all ready to head out once more, he mounted back up in the driver's seat of the technical and started out once more. "Right."

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 294):

Returning Peter's nod, Roadkill mounted up.

"Let's go."

In reply to Roadkill (msg # 295):

They started out again, crossing the small river. Nothing jumped out at them. Cannibal Jack was right, everything smaller than the gator was frightened away.

On their quarry fled, and onwards they pursued them, southwards towards the Gulf. The Red River was visible every once in a while on their left through the trees. As they passed the ruins of the city of Alexandria, slowly being swallowed by the forest, they saw smoke from a small walled town along the banks of the river slightly to the south.

The tracks of the semi avoided turning off the Interstate and continued south. Like them, the fleeing rig probably didn't need to stop and refuel.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 296):

"Peter, this here is the Roadkill. You got your ears on, good buddy?

"Want to stop? We got fuel to spare for now. But we don't know how far we're goin' and we may not be able to get back. On the other, it's a delay. Over."

Peter called back on the radio, "I do not wish to delay if we can help it. There is a risk, for certain, in continuing on without stopping, but at times there can also be reward, yes?" He paused. "I will defer to the group if there are stringent objections, however."

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 298):

"They might have seen the rig and the hoverbike. I say we stop and ask, maybe they have route info," said Marcela over the CB.

In reply to Marcela Perez Villanova (msg # 299):

Rodakill replied, "Nah, I say we skip it. I been here before. Near Alexandria's a small ville. An old pre-war hospital. Run by one of the doctors, kind of a mayor now, I guess? Lots of food, water for sale. Some fuel. They also run a ferry across the Red River."