"It appears that he has gotten away for the moment. We need to go figure out what is going on with the rest of us. And go from there. I'd rather shoot the bastard and be done with it. Next time in the head."

Peter kicked the ground in frustration, cursing under his breath for a minute. Then, slowly, he got his anger back under control. "Alright. We can't catch him this way. Let's head back and check on the others. I want to make sure Jack is going to be okay."

He got back in the technical and headed back the way they'd just come...albeit at a much more sedate pace.

The healing Glow from Brother Edgar's hands enveloped Jack's grievous wounds. They closed partly and the gush of blood subsided to a trickle. He was partially healed; enough to stabilise him but not enough to completely heal him.

At the river they decided to heading back and meet the others at the vehicle.

It was obvious the Sheriff's Dept. Humvee wouldn't start. But Jack needed medical attention urgently.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 10):

"Peter, I have an idea. Jack needs care. There is a doctor back in that town we passed, Alexandria. But if we leave we'll have a hard time catching up to Kargo and we might never find his trail again. How about I drive the technical back with Jack and Macela and her husband? You look for a way across. Keep in touch using the Humvee radio. I'll drop the others off in Alexandria and I should be back before nightfall."

Peter drove back to where the others were, and climbed out. He looked over at Jane as she spoke. He frowned for just a moment at what she had to say, but then he gave a slow nod. If he would trust anyone in the world with his technical, it would be her.

"Very well, Jane. Please hurry but stay safe." He glanced at the truck. "And keep the truck safe too, please."

He gave Jane a hug and then grabbed his gear out of it quickly.

Brother Edgar looked quite faded.  Diminished.  But, ultimately satisfied that he had done what he could to preserve Jack's life.  It was in other hands now.  Should Jack live, it was also quite possible that he would discover that the healing energies of the Glow and chosen to bless him with the gifts of the Atom...

Time would tell.

In the mean time...

The Doomsayer stood, swaying slightly and using his strange metal walking stick to steady himself, "I have done what I can for him and Jane has a good plan.  We've come this far after Kargo... it would be a shame to stop now... And we have a greater chance of catching him than we do the night fiends..."  Regret returned that he had not managed to incinerate all the monsters in cleansing atomic fire...

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 12):

Smiling, Jane dismounted. "I will stay safe, my love. Now, don't let that bastard get away! I'll see you tonight. If you need to split for some reading then we can RV back at the ambush site at dawn. You stay safe as well."

She got into the driver's seat.

They hooked up the Humvee so that they could tow it to where they would be looking for a way across the river. That way they could keep in touch via the CB radio. Jane shuttled them down to the river's edge. Ruined buildings and half-sunken wharves and rusted, collapsed amusement rides littered the shore. They rolled the Humvee into the shell of a concession stand where a destroyed wall not facing the road allowed for access.

"Ok, here you go. Stay safe my love!" She gave Peter a long kiss as she unhooked the dead Humvee. "Not goodbye. See you later." After some radio checks, the technical was gone. Maybe, with some luck, the Wasteland sawbones in Alexandria could work a miracle on Cactus Jack.

Here, due to the earthquake that destroyed Port Arthur and Baton Rouge, the Missisppi had backed up to form a new lake. It had expanded over Baton Rouge, flooding it, covering most of it. Now a few buildings poked out of the brown water, barely clearing the mangrove swamp that now covered the area.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:09, Fri 07 Aug 2020.

"Thank you for the lift." Which was pure irony since the truck was his, and it was amusing to him.

Peter smiled at Jane and kissed her back. "Agreed. Always 'to be continued'." He gave her a nod. "Take care of our friend, but take care of yourself as well."

He turned to those staying with him. "Shall we go and see what we can find then? The trail is likely very cold at this point."

He began to head in the direction they had last seen the hoverbike going.

"Okie dokie," said Smoker, who'd been sprawling at the side of the road waiting for something to happen. He jumped up, ready to move out.

Brother Edgar gave a nod to the departing group and raised a now very very dimly glowing hand, "May Saint Darwin's truth be in his favor.  Drive safely."   With that, the Doomsayer stepped after the others at the best speed he could manage with his strained and drained self.

  Chrichton merely watches Jane go with a sense of foreboding. He pulls his plasma pistolnas he walks toward the embankment and looks out across the water. "We either need some wings or we need a boat. Any ideas fellas?"

Trask watches the others leave as he runs a scan of the area and then gives the all clear assuming nothing show up. Then he turns a waits for the off.


-

"Could we build a raft?" asked Smoker, assessing nearby trees for good raft material.

 "I'm not sure how big a raft would need to be. Most of us are pretty light, but do we want to make a rather large raft to be able to hold all of us. Or maybe a couple of smaller outriggers and one big one?" he asks looking about for things to use to make what he was suggesting.

The Posse started gathing materials for a raft.

They also heard, very faintly, a rhythmic drumming sound coming from the northeast, upriver. However, it didn't seem to be getting louder and even faded out every one in a while.

PD Note: Now would be a good time for a Scrounge roll. 5d12 for Smoker. Anyone or everyone can join him.

Brother Edgar would normally lend a hand.  He has always proven willing to turn his hand to every needed task, no matter how unpleasant.  But this time, he is forced to abstain.  He takes the opportunity to settle in with his staff across his legs and meditate.  To recenter.  To let the Glow flow through him again.

Smoker and Crichton scavenged along the riverfront for an hour, finding enough to make a crude raft from some intact barrels and pallets. What they were having trouble locating was enough rope or cord to lash it all together. Brother Edgar rested while Trask and Peter kept a watch. Smoker and Crichton periodically returned to the work site to drop off salvage, then headed back into the ruined amusement park to look for more items. The faint drumming sound continued from upriver, "thump... thump... thump..." Nothing seemed to come from it.

The bank had been built up with a boardwalk but you found a gap between two buildings where you can carefully make your way down to the muddy riverbank. Both cinder block buildings had been burned and razed, leaving some low walls for Trask and Brother Edgar to use as partial cover. (Brother Edgar had previously been chillin' down at the river's edge but it occurred to him if another one of those monster gators showed up and found him alone he would be its lunch. Instead, this way Trask could try and keep everyone covered.

Suddenly, they heard gunfire from in the ruins, probably a submachinegun, and quite close.

Marshall's Note: You can make Cognition checks to try and determine the range, direction and distance.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:20, Sun 16 Aug 2020.

Peter kept watch, such as it was, over the group and the materials they scavenged. For some reason, he just wasn't in the mood for scrounging up himself - or he knew the materials would be way below his standards.

Under his breath he muttered, "drums...drums in the dark..."

He perked up suddenly at the sound of gunfire. He looked around, but even with his nightvision goggles and usually-good hearing, he couldn't tell too much.

"Not to rush you, but how much longer do you think the raft construction will take?"

"It'll be ready when it's ready," grouched Smoker.

"What's the rush?"

If some heavy lifting was needed Trask would volunteer to move logs.

Trask turned to face the direction the fire cam from. His rifle was at his shoulder s he made a sweep with his sensors trying to pin point a possible threat.


-

Brother Edgar trusted in the Glow and his able companions.  He would remain calm...  Be calm.  Feel the Glow flowing through you....  For as long as the raft construction would allow.

After a tense moment, there was another burst of small-calibre gunfire. More birds took off. It was close, Trask figured it was only about 50 yards distant. Whoever it was busting caps was either rich or in a heap of trouble!

A young man sprinted out from an alley between two buildings 40 yards away. He was well-dressed for a Waster, wearing a backpack and trying to reload a 10mm HK Police SMG. Following him were several mutant rodents of some kind, like giant rats but with patches of missing hair. It didn't look like there would be enough of the one victim to feed them so much of the pack broke off and made a beeline towards Crichton and Smoker.

Suddenly there was movement all around them! Suddenly more were coming out from under ruined buildings, up from the water, everywhere. There were multiple attackers coming after everyone now: Peter, Trask and Brother Edgar as well.

Marshall"s Note: roughly 3 of the giant rat-like creatures are on each of you.

Smoker, with an armful of raft-building materials, just stared at these critters! He'd not been paying attention to the gunfire in the background, let alone realised that it had come closer... and wasn't sure where his weapons were anyway.

With a flick of his eye Trask designated the rats as enemy and his HUD was suddenly covered with glowing red triangles. He aimed at the closest and began firing off small bursts at the rats, moving onto the next once he had hard hits on the first.


Increase Trask rolled 7 using 4d8, keeping the highest dice only, rerolling max with rolls of 6,5,7,3.  Quickness.

Increase Trask rolled 9 using 5d12, keeping the highest dice only, rerolling max with rolls of 7,4,9,7,4.  Shootin.



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