Smoker, who was just about to jump onto the almost completed raft, looked round in some confusion.

Trask used the ACR's built-in laser and lased the ship. It was a large target, but he was aiming at a specific part. And it was still hundreds of yards away and moving. His 200 airburst (APERS) round hit the ship somewhere admidships in a flash and puff of black smoke. The drumming stopped and so did the rowing. Everyone on deck, including the gun crew, hit said deck and it wasn't clear who was actually dead or not.

The two pairs of big flat-boats came onward over the water, one heading a bit upriver and the other downriver. A few heads popped up over the low gunwales, behind rifles, and there were probably a lot more lying low behind them in each boat. They started shooting, each shooter firing with a flash and large puff of grey smoke. Then they ducked back down and a couple more poked their heads up to aim their long-barreled rifles. The boats were about 1/3 of the way to shore now.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:02, Sat 26 Sept 2020.

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg # 58):

Luke flinched and ducked as a wild rifle round whizzed overhead. He sounded very concerned as he noted the course of the two pairs of boats. If they landed upriver and downriver, then moved in a kind of pincer movement to meet inland, they'd be trapped here almost against the bank.

"Holy shit! We need to get out of here! They're aiming to come ashore and surround us if we stay here close to the bank! And that cannon ain't gonna be out of range forever! I don't know who these guys are or where they came from but I suggest we don't be here when they close the trap. Let's make a run for it!

"Everyone, get your stuff and let's get out of here!"

Looking through his HUD Trask tracked the lead skiff and as he lowered his rifle somewhat he pulled the trigger. A series of bursts were aimed for the small boat and its crew as it skipped along the water.


Trask rolled 8 using 5d12, keeping the highest dice only, rerolling max with rolls of 4,6,8,1,2.  Shootin.



-

Smoker's worldly goods were already on the raft, so he scrabbled around to gather them up and then scrambled ashore to head for Airen and the concrete blocks he was hiding behind.

 Crichton set the rail gun down as he reached cover. And smiled yeah he was a tech priest of a junker, but he knew a good gun when he saw it and pulled his HI Hellfire. He sets it on the lip of the concrete and sprays the nearest boat. He doesn't bother looking just fires in the direction of the boat. "Grab a gun Smoker. Gonna be hard to shoot at us from under cover. I'm not worried about running dry on this thing to much. Plenty of Black Hats back home to get ammo from."

Peter had only concerned himself with running and getting to the concrete to use as barriers. Until he made it there. Even as he tried to catch his breath a bit, he was pulling his rifle off of his back and checking it over real quick.

Then he set himself with as much of his body as he could behind the concrete while bracing the rifle on it and taking aim at the people coming. He held off for the moment since most of the were down and low in the boats or down on the deck of the larger ship. Bullets weren't cheap and he didn't want to waste them.

OOC: Will aim as much as he can until they 'land' and disgorge from the boat.

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg # 62):

Smoker got his pack, FN rifle and Colt Python and hoofed it over to the concrete remains of the foundation to join the rest of the posse.

Trask and Crichton started popping off rounds at the approaching flatboats. It was difficult to judge the effectiveness of their fire at this range, but the occupants of both targeted boats ducked down and fire from all boats effectively ceased. But there were 4 boats total and they continued approaching. [Marshal's Note: I am assuming a single 3-round burst from both firers for ammunition tracking purposes.] Peter sighted in another boat but held his fire.

The big ship seems to have recovered somewhat. After drifting for a brief time the booming drum noises resumed and the oars began to dip into the water once again, propelling it forward once more.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 65):

A worried Luke took out some taped-up binoculars from his pack and studied the oncoming boats.

"Shit, looks like 10, 15 or more per boat. That's 40 to 60 of them at least! If they land and then encircle us here, we're completely fucked. Let's get out of here!" He put his binoculars away and slung his Police SMG, getting ready to make a run for it.

Smoker raised his FN and started looking for targets... but kept the rest of his possessions to hand in case they bugged out rather than fight.

"If we make enough noise, maybe they'll decide to sail on by," he said hopefully.

Trask spoke over the teams comms. "OK if we are moving then go and I will cover you." Trask turned back and adjusted his aim towards those manning the main gun again.

Increase Trask rolled 10 using 5d12, keeping the highest dice only, rerolling max with rolls of 9,6,10,9,7.  Shootin.

"All right, follow me. I know the ruins a bit. Not like the back of my hand but enough not to get lost or trapped in a dead end."

He hopped out and disappeared down an alley.

Marshall's Note: OK, time to vote with your feet! Are you going to stay or go?

Brother Edgar started to reach for the boatman, but missed catching him to stop him.  He turned back to Smoker and Crichton, "There are so many...  I will stay if you make this stand and help how I can."  He held up his odd walking stick like a club.  Sadly it did not glow with an furious atomic power this time.  It showed his intent, but obviously the tired radpriest had little to offer this fight beyond moral support, "Make your choice quickly, friends...  Fight or flee.  I pray St. Darwin guides this Natural Selection in our favor..."

  "We are bugging out. You and Smoker get to moving. I'm out just before Trask." he says to the two before he hits his comm. ++"Trask I'm cutting bait once Priest and Smoker are moving. I will gst to cover and try to provide you some covering fire. Problems? Call em now."++

"OK, come on Brother Edgar. How fast can you move?"

Smoker was ready to offer assistance, or at least carry his stuff, if needed. As for the raft, well, it had taken most of the afternoon to build but so what? He could always build another one if they ended up needing it.

Brother Edgar pushed himself up and started off after Luke, "Hopefully fast enough.  Let's go."  He hoped the scavenger boatman would be easy enough to follow.  Barring that, that he could at least help find a path with enough cover that they don't all get cut down.

Peter didn't hesitate much. He'd already made the decision when he 'fell back' from the water's edge. They numbers against them were a bit overwhelming. "Today is not a good day to die." He smiled slightly. "Let us withdraw."

He then began to hastily but carefully head away from the water and the thugs, heading towards the woods.

They quickly made their way through the overgrown nature/theme park away from the river. They could still hear the drumming noise, and the crack of a cannon shot. It seemed they escaped the trap as they did not immediately see anyone closing off their escape route.

After about a kilometer they could still hear the booming of the drums, but faintly. They were in dense overgrown forest now. This made them tough to see but they left traces of their passing on the thick lush forest, making them still not difficult to track if the raiders were doing that.

Marshall's note: everyone make a Stealth check.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 75):

They left the main group of pursuers behind as they quietly slipped through the dense forest to the west, away from the river. For a little while it looked like they made it. However, there was some loud shouting from about 4-500 yards behind them as if maybe someone picked up their trail.

Just then the game path they were following west through the forest led them to a swampy area with a stream in the middle crossing their route (from north-south). A rusted ice cream truck sat mired up to its hubcaps in the reeds in their path.

Peter was trying to move along as stealthily as he could, but while still maintaining a somewhat hurried pace. It was kind of exhausting to do for a long period of time. He found he was breathing a bit heavily after some time - how much time? He wasn't sure. It felt like they been on the stealth run for a very long time - but in all likelihood it wasn't more than a few minutes.

The sounds behind them were becoming fainter, which was good. And he was very glad that his own truck wasn't around to be captured or damaged by the hooligans. Then the sounds of excitement rose again and he worried they were going to be pursued. He supposed at least if it came to a fight at some point, the ship and it's cannons wouldn't be nearby. Small comfort, but he'd take what he could get.

They came across a swampy area. He chanced a glance back at his allies. "We could try and go through the swamp area to see if we can loose them. Unless you want to make a stand in that ice cream truck." It was hard to tell if he was joking or not.

  Crichton chuckled. "I think it's about time we send them running. Might have a minute or two to set up at most, but I for one can't keep running."

The Doomsayer stepped carefully over to peek into the interior of the ice cream truck (or soon to be Fort Last Stand).  He noted, "Not having their cannon and the full force of their crew should be to our advantage.  Blessed Evolution has gifted us with fight and flight...  Survival is about choosing the right one at the right time..."

Trask covered the way they had just come as a course of action was decided. If there was something he could use for cover all the better.


-

"Personally, I'd choose flight..." said Smoker, who was beside Brother Edgar.

  "Standard scavs should run from a volley of fire even inaccurate fire. If timed right and we can sound like we have more folks than we actually do." he says with a shrug and a spreading of his hands.