"OK, just ahead and then take the first left. We'll look at the dam first." Cao instructs Skillins. That should take them up to the first structure that sat on the river*, one that forms a bridge to a small island, beyond which was the dam itself. At least that was how it looked from the drone overflight. It looked as though there was a roadway that led all the way to the island, but the drone couldn't give any sort of indication of how stable that roadway was - or, for that matter, whether the engineers that had built it had ever considered that it an armored vehicle might one day drive over it - so she intends to take the JLTV in as close as possible to the first structure. From there they can advance on foot, check out the dam.

The Air Force Captain doesn't intend to spend a particularly long time here. For one, no one in the JLTV is an engineer so none of them are qualified to make any sort of detailed assessment as to the condition of the dam or surrounding structures - the best that they can hope for is 'it looks OK' or 'it looks fucked'. And for two, the other side of the river is forested. Aerial reconnaissance hadn't detected any threats, but looking at the woods on the other side of the river through the armored glass of the JLTV there look to be plenty of places for a shooter to hide if he wanted to take pot shots at them.

So it's going to be full battle rattle when they dismount. Helmets, body armor, weapons at the low ready. No doubt Guillory would think it was overkill. But Lauren isn't taking any chances. "Sergeant Anderson, you're with me. We'll clear those buildings ahead of us then move up to the dam, check it as best as we can, then come back and have a look round over there." She points to the right hand side, where two roads lead off from the road that they're on.

"If we do come under fire from the other side we go to ground and return fire. Full auto. Then we fall back to Razorback in leaps and bounds. You go first." She's not about to order him to cover her ass while she gets out of harm's way. "Mr Carswell, you're on the Ma Deuce. Same orders apply. If we take fire from the other side hit them hard. Skillins, manouever as you see fit."

"Any questions? If not, let's get moving."

*Per google maps / street view that appears to be the Hydropower generating station. Plan is to move through there, checking for signs of habitation / damage then follow the road to the western edge of the dam proper. I can't tell from maps whether you can actually cross the dam on foot or not  but even if you can, she won't cross at this stage.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:35, Sat 24 Nov 2018.

Scott has his mildly-annoyed-DA face on for the morning's antics.  He's deliberately ignored Maggie during the drive, letting his presence and occasional side comments to Saul and Rios emphasize the severity of the trouble Simon might be in if he's uncooperative or mouthy.

For this contact, he's equipped as lightly as he has been since rolling out of Little Rock, going with what would be Class Cs if he were still a street cop.  Khaki 5.11 pants, FBINA polo, Point Blank soft armor already clammy as the Under Armour base layer T-shirt futilely wicks sweat away to nowhere.  He'll let Rios and the bulk of the Suburban make the point about the amount of force the task force could bring to bear if needed.

He gives Saul a nod.  "Just a chat, not warrant service."  Yet.

Looking over the bridge railing, Xandra suppresses the juvenile urge to spit or drop something just to see the splash.  It probably wouldn't do much for Zo's confidence in her ability to run this operation.

She turns away and futilely slaps at a swath of rust flakes ground into her Shrimpin' Ain't Easy T-shirt.  Her PFD is on the ground at her feet, under the chipped metallic blue hard hat she found aboard the barge.  For this, she's more worried about shit falling (or being dropped...) off the bridge than anything her issued ballistic helmet might stop.

The big wrecker's cables will reach, just barely, but there's not a lot of margin for shifting the load for the best access.  Since breakfast, she's been working up her unload plan, figuring out the order in which to remove the lock and dam machinery while keeping the barge in trim and preventing tons of metal from shifting or toppling.  This isn't the worst job she's worked, not by a long shot, but she sure as hell wishes she had at least one member of her last crew here to keep an eye on events up top.  And maybe a couple more pieces of heavy equipment, and a fucking cigarette.

With no questions to ask, Carswell hauls himself up into what is becoming the semi familiar surroundings of the JLTV's turret and orientates himself so that the barrel of the M2 is pointing across the river, to the Mississippi side, the medic judging that if there's going to be trouble that's likely to be where it comes from and that will allow him to cover Cao and Anderson as they advance on foot.

"Let's do it," Cole says, checking to confirm an APER round in his M320 and that the belt of ammo in his SAW was clear of obstructions.  Lastly, he tightened up the cinches and velcro on his body armor and helmet before giving a quick nod.

The Dam

With Carswell providing over-watch from Razorback's machinegun turret, Cao and Anderson proceed towards the hydro plant on foot. The main gate is wide open, the chain securing it has been cut. A car in the parking lot has been stripped down to its chassis- a clear sign of extensive looting. This doesn't bode well for what's beyond the small parking lot.

Debris is piled up against the vertical concrete wall of the nearest dam segment - mostly branches and vegetation, a few man-made objects, mangled beyond recognition, and a couple of bloated animal corpses wedged in among the detritus.  The spillways, strung out across the main channel, also appear beset by a thin scum of flotsam.

The doors to the two buildings presumably housing electrical equipment have been jimmied open. Inside the first of the structures, however, the machinery appears largely intact, despite being unmaintained and quiescent for nearly three years. There's no sign of fire, just dust and cobwebs- it’s a promising sign.  The door to the second building is already ajar. Through the gap, wasps enter and exit at will. There must be a pretty big nest inside, because Cao and Anderson can hear the buzzing from outside.

The big transformers- or whatever they are- atop the near section of the dam, also appear undamaged. Perhaps some sort of failsafe system prevented the equipment from frying itself when the Chinese viruses commanded it to do so. Or, maybe the shutdown was caused by EMP, although the nearest strike that the Sierras know of was on the refineries at El Diablo, nearly 100 miles away from this hydro plant, as the crow flies.  Speaking of crows, even the birds have forgotten what these pieces of electrical equipment used to do. There's a rather large nest high up in one of them. Neither Cao nor Anderson know enough about electrical engineering to determine whether the plant can be made operational, or what it would take to make it so, but based on the condition of the visible hardware, a layman could reasonably conclude that  it is possible, given the right expertise.

The Bridge/Barge

After briefing Zo on her plan of attack and fitting an extension (from the STAR Team's own stores) on to Serena's tow-cable, Murray rappels down to the wreck. As she descends, she can feel the circling Mississippi Guardsmen's eyes lock on to her ass. She alights, unclips from the slack line, and gets right down to work.

Murray opens the cargo hatch cover, descends into the partially inundated hold, selects the nearest piece of lock equipment, and attaches the cable as securely as she can in the cramped, wet confines of the compartment.  She climbs out of the hold and signals Zo's young assistant (acting as relay) to start the winch- slowly. Watkins and the Gould minder watch from the railing. Murray stands by the hatch, guiding the heavy beam as it rises ponderously towards the open hatch; the beam is longer than the opening is wide, so she has to tilt it a little to get it out. Once the beam is hanging free, she twirls her finger, indicating that Zo can pick up the pace a little bit. A couple of seconds pass as the message is relayed. The beam rises a bit faster now, increasing its tilt as it approaches the bridge railing. Without warning, something gives- cable, fastener, fly wheel, who knows? It all happens so quickly that Murray doesn't have time to work it out. A sharp, cracking sound and the beam is falling, end on, towards the open hatch. Murray barely has time to dive out of the way. She lands hard, rebounds against the warm metal of the deck as  a metallic BANG blasts her eardrums . When she comes to a rest, lying prone, the deck is still reverberating beneath her.  Something shifts, the deck begins to list. Murray's  ears are ringing, but she can still make out the grinding of metal on concrete. Is the barge breaking free?

Back Gate

Carissa slinks through the trees, crosses through the neighbor's back yard, and sets up- as far as she can tell, undetected-  just northwest of the  double wide trailer. A dirt bike is parked right outside one of the back bedroom windows, near an above-ground pool, about 20 meters away. About 20m beyond that, Carissa sees a woman's back. She appears to be tending to some animals. A brief whiff of goat confirms their suspected identity.

Meanwhile, with Rios standing by behind the wheel of the team's police SUV, Saul, Guillory, and Maggie stroll down the right shoulder of the 165, towards the driveway of Simon's friend's house. Besides the double-wide (trailer home), there are two smaller structures on the property- some sort of covered animal pen, and a small shed/workshop. Through gaps between the  buildings, Saul and Scott spot a woman tending to some animals. She's not facing the road, so she doesn't immediately notice the visitors.  The Sierras and their teenage ward reach the end of the dirt driveway; the woman turns from her animals and sees the trio of pedestrians approaching. From a distance (about 60m), she studies them warily. After a few seconds, she recognizes the girl.

"Maggie? What's going on here?"

Maggie looks up at Saul inquiringly.


Your Turn.

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This message was last edited by the GM at 02:48, Thu 29 Nov 2018.

Lauren has gradually relaxed a little as she moves about the hydro plant and no immediate threat materializes. Or at least no man made ones, for she doesn't plan to go too near the wasp's nest and disturb them, signalling Cole to also give them a wide berth. If she'd had spray paint she would have sprayed some sort of hazard warning on the door, much like she'd seen FEMA people do after the nuke strikes, but she doesn't so the best that she can do is jot down in her notebook that any recovery efforts here are going to have to involve a plan to deal with this natural threat.

By the time they've finished their examination her carbine is slung over her shoulder, although she's still wearing her helmet, armor, and ballistic glasses as she stands on the asphalt and looks out at the dam, her gloved hands wedged into the sides of her plate carrier vest as she speaks to Anderson. "I don't think there's much more we can do here. Mr Guillory can file a report with his people up in Little Rock. Maybe they can find some people that used to work on it before the bombs fell. If they're going to try and get it back on line I'll recommend the State Guard sends a detachment down to provide security. She looks across the river towards the Mississippi side for a moment. "Anything else you want to check out here or shall we take a walk across the road and check out the other side then head down to the water?*"

*Per google maps, there's two turn offs on the right. One leads to what looks like some sort of pylon farm, the other looks to lead to a car park (?) then down to a body of water (I'm not clear whether it's a separate river / lake or some sort of offshoot of the Arkansas)

Saul looks at Maggie, the woman, and the distance between them.  60 meters is a good long distance.  One that's kind of hard to project charm and reassurance across.  Still, she isn't looking at him down the barrel of a 12 gauge.  Which is a start.

"Morning ma'am," Saul says, dredging up as much country charm and respect as he can manage.  "We do apologize for dropping in out of the blue like this, but hopefully bringing Maggie here along can go some distance in reassuring you our intentions are friendly."  The retired cop takes a few steps forward, maybe six or seven in all, while playing his limp up heavily.  He makes a show out of resting on his walking stick and uses his left hand to momentarily key up his mic to let Carissa know he's engaging in conversation.

"My name is Saul Noble and this is my associate Scott Guillory.  We're down from Little Rock on a tour of the area to see what folks need and how they're getting along.  Hopefully we can get some help headed to the folks that need it the most."

"That's well and good Mister Noble, but what are you doing on my property.  Last time I checked Little Rock was a long way away and they never bothered much with folks like us anyway.  Even before..."

No arguing with that, Saul muses while the pregnant "before" hangs in the air. Validate, then work.

"No ma'am, can't imagine much they did."  He gives a head shake that should be noticeable even from the distance between them.

"So..."

"well, ma'am.  We've heard on our trip into Grundy that the Mississippi boys on the other side of the river have been acting up and Maggie's friend Simon and his mom got treated real unfair by those fellas.  We're here because we need to talk to Simon.  And I want to stress here, ma'am, the 'talk' part.  We want to hear his side of what happened and what those boys said."

"Simon's not here."

Saul watches the woman for a few moments as her hands tend to her work.  "I understand you might be nervous around us, and protective of who Maggie here tells us is a real good person.  Given the work we've seen this young woman do, I see no need to doubt her word.  About Simon or about anything else."  Saul takes a few more steps, trying to gauge the body language of the woman before him and hopes that there's not a deer rifle trained on his chest from some window in the double-wide.

"We'd sure like to talk to the boy, and I'm happy to have you and Maggie at his side to make sure we don't do anything you don't like."

Carissa finds a nice cozy spot to observe the trailer, looking for a few blind spots she can get use to get closer.  20m to the bike is a ways, especially with body armor on, but the cowgirl figures she can make it in less than ten seconds.  The question is, how fast can Simon get out the window and on the bike?  Even if he uses the dirt bike track she kneeling on, she'll only get on chance to grab him and hopefully not break him badly putting him on the ground.  A dicey situation at best.

Soooo...what would dear old dad do?  Or maybe WWSD?  Saul was always telling her to try and put her head in the place of other people.  Try and anticipate what a scared teenager would do.  Well shit, she'd never been a normal teenager.  When she got scared she got mad.  Simon got mad enough to take a pot shot at the Mississippi assholes, but hadn't been serious enough about it to aim well.  The bike was in a position to grab heading out the window.  So he's planning on running.  If they trust what Maggie said.  This shit gets exhausting.

The radio in Carissa's ear purrs to life for a second or three and she can hear Saul's voice call out to the woman in the garden.  There's a eerie few moments where she can hear him from a distance in one ear and clear as day, but a fraction delayed in the other.  The radio cuts out again leaving her in peace.

Okay, first Simon goes to the window.  Why?  Because he has the hots for Maggie and wants to see the trouble she's in.  Figure a bit of time for that while everyone in the trailer looks at dad.  Simon waits to see what happens, sees if he's in trouble too and- fuck this you're wasting time.

Carissa scoots forward, using the above ground pool as cover, trying to get as close to the window as possible.  If she can, she'll disable the bike, nothing permanent, just pull a fuel line or unplug the spark plug.

Let's see if you're a hero Simon.

Carissa
Sneaking up to disable the bike.  Will go combat mode if people start shooting at her dad.

"Fuck me with a baseball bat," Xandra mutters as she pushes herself up and off the rust-flecked steel.  That wasn't what she had in mind when she put on the hard hat this morning.  She shakes her head to clear it, clamps the headware back atop her bandana, and presses her fingertips to the deck.  She's not a diesel-whisperer like some of the guys she used to work with, but she's been around (and on) enough distressed machines to become amply familiar with their feel.  The barge is singing to her, now, not in the descending tone of a vessel taking on water, but in the laconic grind of one that's finding a new equilibrium after a load shifts (mental flicker of the worst load shift she's ever seen, 747 stalling at Bagram, seconds of flight stretching into unrecoverable eternity, and she once again is thankful her work is marine rather than aviation, and that there's nothing flammable aboard this job).

The fingernails-on-chalkboard-writ-large squeal isn't just tinnitus, she realizes.  The barge is moving laterally against the bridge pillar.  She rises to a crouch, grabs her own line but doesn't hook in just yet.  One hand on the rope, one hand on the rail, ignore the distant shouts from above, give it thirty seconds to find its new balance...

"Yeah, maybe the State can do something with this," Cole said.  He thought about getting the model numbers off the transformer, but he didn't have notebook.  Beside, he wasn't here for that.  Anderson hoisted the SAW up and endorsed Cao's other side plan with a nod and a heel pivot.

The Barge

Murray keeps her cool, trusts her engineering instincts. The barge shifts maybe a couple inches, rotates a degree or two, then stops moving. The dropped beam is resting at an angle, half in the hold, half leaning out. A length of cable, one end still fastened around the  beam, is coiled on the rusting deck nearby. Apparently, the splice gave way.

The MSG spotter boat makes a close pass on the upriver side. One of the guardsman is trying to stifle laughter, the other calls out, "Are you OK, miss?"

Watkins, Alonzo, his young assistant, Reggie, and the Gould Minder are all looking down with concern from the railing.

Back Gate

Saul's attempt at diplomacy seems to have a somewhat positive effect. "You can stop right there, Mr. Noble," the woman calls. "Maggie, you better stay put too. Simon's pretty scared. I'll go talk to him."

Holding the feed bucket against her chest, the woman starts to walk, unhurriedly, towards the back door of the double-wide. Guillory is watching the trailer's front windows, spots a fleeting shadow, there and gone.

Carissa, meanwhile, makes her way to the back of the house undetected. She crouches next to the dirt-bike, under the window, fiddles with what looks like a critical component on the exposed engine. She hears movement just inside, withdraws her arm, flattens herself against the exterior wall. The window screen above her head pops out, hits the ground next to Carissa. A teenage boy's leg swings out of the open window, sneakered heal bumping loudly against the outside paneling. The subject is straddling the windowsill, half-way inside, half-way out, when he sees the would-be saboteur.

The Dam

Cao and Anderson begin walking across the 350 meter-long footpath that runs above the main dam's spillway. The steady susurrus of water rushing by below their feet approaches a low roar. A cooling fog of water vapor rises from below like a gravity-defying curtain.

Looking to her right, Cao spots a man standing on the east bank, a little over a kilometer downriver. He appears to be fishing. He's looking back at Cao, starts reeling his line in a litte faster.


Your Turn.

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This message was last edited by the GM at 17:39, Sat 01 Dec 2018.

Cao watches the fisherman on the other side of the river. He's too far away for her to call out to so she judges that there's not really much that they can do about him. Besides, he's not actually doing anything suspicious. "You reckon he'll head straight to Seeger or whoever's running the State Guard mission on the Mississippi side and tell them someone's been taking a look round here?" She remarks to Anderson, her shoulders wrinkling into a semi shrug. The speed he's reeling his line in certainly suggests that he's in a hurry to get somewhere. Or maybe he's just shitting himself that Carswell might light him up with the fifty cal.

"I'll put it in my report." she adds, giving the fisherman a wave as she does so. After all, he's clearly seen them. May as well let him know they've seen him, try and look friendly. Hearts and minds. "Let's go check out the other side of the road."

"Yeah, probably.  We continue to be the most interesting thing these yokels have seen in months if not years," Anderson replied.  "Ever seen Deliverance?" Cole asked rehotorically.  Before Cao could answer, he started to whistle the dueling banjo tune.  After a bar, the Tech Sergeant stopped and shifted to a more serious tone.

"Ok, let's take a walk.."

Strictly speaking Lauren should reprimand Cole for referring to the local population as yokels. After all, they are supposed to be here on a hearts and minds mission. Winning friends, flying the flag for the State Government in Little Rock. But they are both active duty Air Force and he is a Special Missions Aviator, so that cuts him enough slack for her to let her slide. And she hasn't seen Deliverance. She's more of a Hunger Games girl. Although she gets the reference.

The dark haired Air Force Captain shrugs, shifts her carbine so that it is cradled in her arms as she walks back towards the JLTV with the Tech Sergeant. "I suppose they have to do something now that they can't watch HBO." No one could. Lauren would never find out whether it was Sansa's grandaughter or the long lost Mariella Lannister who won the War of the Queens and ruled all of Westeros. "Or Keeping Up With the Kardashians." Her expression makes it clear she doesn't consider that to be a bad thing.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:24, Mon 03 Dec 2018.

Xandra probes her mouth with her tongue and determines that none of her teeth are loosened.  "Livin' the dream," she yells back.  Turning away, she mutters, "nightmares are dreams too."

She fumbles in a cargo pocket for the fresh pack of Nicorette she stashed there this morning, pops a piece of gum into her mouth, and closes her eyes as she waits for the first chemical hit.  Then she raises her arms, waits for Zo to acknowledge her, and makes the rigger's hand signal for "more slack."  It's going to be a long goddamn morning...

"Movement, Alpha side, window three," Scott says quietly to Saul, and to his lapel mic.  He takes a few idle steps to one side and hooks his thumb into the front pocket of his 5.11s.  Coincidentally and innocently, his hand is that much closer to the Nighthawk 10mm now.

Carissa freezes, already mentally kicking herself for calling this one backwards.  There's a better than average chance that she's going to be having a long and fairly uncomfortable chat with her father when they get out of here.  But all that's in the future, at the moment, she eye to eye with a scared teenager who looks more than a little surprised to see her standing there.  So now what?

Grabbing the kid is an option, probably a bad one.  WWSD?

Fully aware that she is neither a gorgeous woman nor radiating the charisma that her father possesses in spades, Carissa tries a smile.  Leaving her hands clearly in view and moving slowly, she leans into the body of the trailer trying hard to look casual in her battle-rattle.

"Oh, you must be Simon," she says lightly.  "I'm Carissa."  She tries the grin again.  "Tell ya what.  How about I stay right about here with my hands where you can see them and you stay right about there?  And we work this out like grown-ups?"

She really wants to key her radio, but figures that's just going to spook the kid worse.

"That's fine with me ma'am," Saul nods easily.  "We're happy to stay right here."  He answers Scott's update with a tilt of the head, waiting for Carissa to acknowledge.

And waits.

And grows a little concerned by the silence.

You there, girl?  Saul knows intellectually that if Carissa isn't answering, there's probably a good reason.  There's been no shouts.  No gunfire.  Still, being a father isn't easy, and he can feel his stomach sinking.  He wants to intervene.  Wants to sit on his hands.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:07, Sat 08 Dec 2018.

Tori stayed with Bourbon Street, ready to use it as a ramming vehicle, ballistic shield, or pursuit car depending on the situation.  She estimated that the heavy SUV would do considerable damage to the double-wide if things went truly south.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:30, Wed 05 Dec 2018.

Barge

Murray's second attempt is much more successful than the first. She resplices the extension to the wrecker's own tow cable. This time, Serena successfully lifts the heavy part up to the bridge, where Zo and company secure it. Murray, meanwhile, contemplates her next move. After a few minutes, Zo leans over the railing and calls down,

"You said the bridge is damaged? We probably shouldn't transfer any more weight up here. I'll have to take this piece to the lot, drop it off, and come back!"

He's got a point- safety first. However, this somewhat clunky back-and-forth relay system is going to prolong the salvage operation considerably.

Dam

After having inspected the catwalk atop the spillway, Cao and Anderson walk down to the oxbow lake. It's a partly natural, partly man-made feature. Nature would have finished the job eventually, but construction of the dam pinched it off before its time. It looks like the recent flooding temporarily reunited the curvy body of standing water with the river, but since the road to the hydro plant clearly wasn't washed out, the new junction must be at the other end of the elongated, tilted C of the lake. When they climb back up the bank, the Sierras note that the fisherman is gone.

Back Gate

Simon starts, falls back inside the trailer with a loud thunk. Carissa ends up delivering most of her appeal to the just-vacated window. The boy, now unseen, gives no indication whether he heard her or not. Back to square one.

Simon's host- Maggie knows her only as Sam's mom- jogs the last few meters to the trailer's back door. The two women make fleeting eye-contact. Carissa smiles, but there's fear in the elder of the two's eyes. She throws open the back door, then slams it shut behind her.


Your Turn.

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This message was last edited by the GM at 02:23, Wed 12 Dec 2018.

"Well hell," Carissa mumbles.  Instinct has her moving away from the wall and back into cover in the tree line before a shotgun blast can exit the vinyl siding of the mobile home.  Simon and friends know she's out here now, which should, hopefully, maybe keep him from taking a runner.

"Rawhide to Gimp, I'm made in the back.  Simon's bike is disabled but they know I'm out here, over," she transmits.  Her voice is thick with self-recrimination.  While she waits for a reply, Carissa's eyes track for movement and she checks obvious lines of fire towards the tree she hopes is wide enough to block for her.  And all I brought to the fun is a pistol.

Despite the contents of the message, Saul's unclenches at hearing Carissa's voice on the radio net again.  Maybe, he considers, running ops with your daughter is not the wisest use of your capabilities.  Or it doesn't matter, because he's out here anyway, and she's going to be out in the field, too.  Might as well look out for each other.  And it's not nearly the first time he's watched her put herself in harms way.  Probably not even the 300th.

"Gimp copies.  Rawhide, are you covered back there?"

"Covered enough," comes the reply.  "I'll keep you posted."

"Copy, Gimp out."

Saul sighs.  He can hear how angry Carissa is at herself in her voice.  A father knows these things, although he doubts the others will pick up on it.  They'll have to have one of those half-conversations later about operations going to shit and all of that.  But for now, he has to focus on Simon and whether or not this is going to go peacefully or not.

"Okay," he says to Scott and Maggie. "We'll give'em five minutes and then bring Rios up in the battle-wagon to remind them we're still here.  A minute or two after that and I'll limp up to say 'hi.'"  He doesn't bother to ask Maggie if they have guns in the house.  It's the apocalypse.  Everyone has guns in the house.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:13, Mon 10 Dec 2018.

”I think we’ve done all that we can here.” Cao remarks to Anderson as they stroll back to the JLTV, the Air Force Captain’s pace leisurely. It’s an observation rather than an order, an implicit invitation for Anderson to comment if he thinks that she’s missed anything. ”I guess Mr Guillory will need to get on to his friend the Governor and see if they can get together a team to come down and have a proper look at it.” She shrugs her shoulders as Razorback grows larger, returns the wave that Carswell gives them from his elevated position in the gunner’s turret. ”Who knows, maybe there are people in Pendleton who worked here before the War.” She’d mention that to Guillory on their return, maybe he could ask around.

Once they’ve reached the JLTV she slings her carbine over her shoulder, opens the front passenger door, leans in to speak to Skillins. ”Can you pass me the map please, Private? You can take five to stretch your legs as well if you want.” When Skillins hands her the Rand McNally Arkansas State Map she unfolds it. Being clearly too short to be able to see it properly if she spreads it out on the vehicle’s hood, she instead adjusts it so that she can hold the section that covers the area that they are in in one hand holding it so that Anderson – and Skillins if he is so inclined – can both see it if they look over her shoulder while the index finger of her free hand jabs at the area around the dam.

”OK, so we’re here.” This would be a lot easier if Google Maps was still a thing. ”If we go any further south we’re going to come to the where the river comes back round then have to come back. If we head back to Pendleton we can take the 43 south along the river as far as Red Fork.” She’s probably pushing the parameters of their patrol, allowing some mission creep to find its way in. ”Opinions? Concerns? Private Skillins, any local knowledge that you can share?”

Saul uses time as a tool. Two minutes pass. The sun is still quite a ways from its apogee, but the temperature seems to be rising unnaturally fast. Maggie looks up at Saul, offers, "Let me talk to 'em. They don't know you. They're prolly just scared. They're not gonna hurt me."

There's flashes of movement inside, a silhouette in the window, there and gone, visible from the driveway. Then again at a different window, or the pane set high in the elevated front door. Carissa's confirmed that Simon's inside; the Sierras have all seen his friend's mother. Assuming that said friend is also inside, that makes three occupants. Considering the area, there's likely more than one firearm in the house, including Simon's scoped 30-06 which the boy's mother couldn't find at home.

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