The pitted remains of Interstate 5, heading North.

The side of The Road, Northbound, south of East Highland Hills

Higgins stood there, powerless. His arms hung limp at his sides and he was incapable of movement or speech. All he could do was watch as the men approached the girl...

With a jolt, Higgins sat bolt upright, sweat clinging to his brow. The embers of his fire glowed faintly as the old cop watched, throwing off the sleeping bag. He knew what happened next in the dream. Sometimes he woke up before, sometimes after. It was always the same, though. He saw the girl's face every day, whether he had the dream or not.

It was still dark, but Higgins could see the light just starting to come up on the horizon. He stood up and took a piss on the fire, the embers hissing and putting out steam. He took a swig from his canteen, checked the bullets in his revolver, and set about striking camp. It was quick work, and soon all of his gear was stowed on the bike where it needed to be. He made one final check, then started his engine and set out.

As he drove down the road at a leisurely pace, the bike started bucking slightly. One of the pistons had loosened up again - nothing that would cause serious trouble but he'd have to go see the Wrecker none the less. He didn't care for the strange man or his dogs, but he'd built a solid machine and he seemed to be the only one who could fix it.

Higgins put on some speed, then, with a destination in mind he was about his business swiftly. He kept his eyes open and scanned the road as he went, looking for trouble.

The sun had just crested the mountains in the east when the dust cloud appeared on the road behind Higgins.  It looked like a miniature dust storm covering both the northbound and southbound lanes and the median in between.  The cloud was moving fast; soon Higgins was able to discern individual vehicles in the swirling dust.  Bikes led the way, jumping small dunes of dust and debris, followed by low-slung wide-axled pickups.  They were barrelling down the freeway in a wide lazy wedge.  As they drew closer, Higgins could see men manning weapons mounted on the pickups.

The Road, northbound

"Shit," Higgins swore under his breath, to no one in particular. He wasn't sure if whoever this was was coming after him or just out for a joy ride. He put on some speed to try to put some distance between him and the group and scouted ahead for some cover where he could pull over and get out of sight - or at least have a spot to pick some of them off if they were coming from him. If they matched his acceleration, they had spotted him and were gunning for him, but if he could make some distance he could setup a spot to get a better look through his scope. Either way, speed was his friend right now and he pushed the 1500 cc engine of his custom bike to the max.

The cracked asphalt flew under the bike's wheels.  A tornado of dust rose behind him and in his rearview mirror Higgins saw a crushed rattlesnake fly out from underneath his rear wheel.  The drifting dust ahead of him had filled in most of the cracks in the road, giving easy purchase to his all-terrain tires.

The Road, northbound

Higgins accelerated, pulling away from the pack following him, leading him to believe they might not be following him. He looked ahead for cover where he could pull well off the road and scope out the gaggle.

PM

The cloud of dust behind Higgins obscured the loose formation of vehicles following in his wake.  The terrain to either side of this stretch of the Road was nothing but a flat desert of rocks and sand since he passed some feral orchards a couple of miles back.  On his left, a line of old transmission towers stood shimmering the distance, but more immediate was the rusted barbed wire fence marking the edge of the freeway.  No wire remained, but the steel posts still stood and they presented a hazard to any high speed maneuvering, especially by a cycle.  On Higgins' right, the median divider was still largely intact and steel glinted beneath a patina of rust.

Looking ahead, Higgins could see the windswept green of another feral orchard a couple of miles down the Road to his right.  There were no hills or ravines, but the orchard's trees would at least impede any vehicle larger than a cycle.

Pm

Higgins gunned his engine and headed for the trees. They would provide a bit of cover and would keep the vehicles off of him. Unless they had really heavy weaponry, they'd have to come in on foot.

When he got far enough into the trees to cause an impediment, he stopped and laid his bike on the ground, between himself and the road. It would make it harder to make a quick get away, but it would provide some cover. He checked his revolver, making sure it was loaded and primed. Grabbing his rifle, he sighted through his scope to get a look at what was coming down the road.

The vehicles resolved in greater detail in the clarity of Higgins' scope.  The leading cycle riders pointed to where he had pulled off into the orchard, and he could see the men crouched behind them ready their rifles.  The wore uniforms of a faded sage green and helmets covered with the same material, and the bandanas covering their faces flapped in the wind.  The bikes were a collection of dirt bikes and street machines, painted a mottled tan.  They sped past Higgins, the passengers tracking on the orchard but not opening fire.

The main column emerged from the dust cloud left by the bikes.  A wedge of armored off-road pickups formed the vanguard, followed by sage green Humvees escorting the unmistakable hulking shapes of wheeled armored personnel carriers.  The gunners in their turrets swung their machineguns to cover the orchard, but again none fired.  Flying from their antenna masts were black swallow-tailed banners, each adorned with a white skull over crossed rifles. Preceding the skull and rifles insignia was the block letter A, and after them was the number 4.  It was Alpha Company, 4th Platoon, the Headhunters.

Higgins shakes his head. Alpha Company. The "Army." He gathered his gear slowly, wanting to let the paramilitary group pass by. He glanced around as he righted his bike, seeing if there was any ripe fruit in the orchard.

When he was sure the group was well down the road, he mounted back up and continued his leisurely pace south to the travel stop, making sure he didn't catch up to Alpha company. He needed to find the Wrecker for a quick repair.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:22, Wed 03 June 2015.

The Headhunters roared on ahead of Higgins, intent on their journey and leaving him in a great cloud of whipping dust.  They continued ahead of Higgins for some time, then slowed when the interchange between the Road and the Slow Ride came into view.  They formed a single file formation and began rolling in to the Travel Stop.

Higgins parked near the entrance to the travel stop, in a spot that he had scoped out a long time ago. It was nestled between a pile of rubble and the remnants of a highway barrier - the big concrete and rebar jobs that could stop a semi truck. It gave him a  protected spot and was about 150 yards from the entrance. Close enough that he could see clearly with his scope and make a shot if necessary, far enough away that he could mount up and get moving should he need to bolt. It was shaded by a couple of over grown scrub trees so it was out of the sun and was non-descript. It was the perfect place for him to keep an eye on the travel stop without having to go in unless necessary.

That's where he sat, watching Alpha company and wondering what they were up to. Out in force, but for what? Maybe just flexing their muscles.

The Road, Northbound -----> East Highland Hils Travel Stop

Once Alpha Company was through the gates, Higgins gathered his belongings and headed in himself. He needed to find the Wrecker and see about getting his bike fixed and he'd like to be in and out before nightfall. It was still morning, and the repairs should be minor, so he didn't think he'd get stuck in the travel stop for too long.