Harry nodded. "That's why I asked about weird dreams, not bad ones. Because my crew and I had a doozy of a weird dream. One of our crew is a..." He hesitated a moment. Dean's abilities were his own business. So he modified what he'd been about to say. "...a veteran of the Faraway War. And last night, we all dreamed we were facing a last stand. Some of us even woke up to wounds that hadn't been there when we dropped off." He scowls. "And like I told them, when I sleep these days, I don't dream. Not since they installed me in this tin can." He thumped his chassis for emphasis. "When we were all awake, our veteran friend said he felt like somethin' was watchin' us. Something unfriendly." he sighed. "I'd been hoping that it was some local varmint...something to do with being near the Maelstrom of Old Dallas. If other folk had similar experiences, I figured that whatever weirdness was going on wasn't fixated on any folk in particular. But if none of you folk had any strangeness, that's sounding mighty unlikely. Whatever this thing is, it dislikes us in particular." He shakes his head. "So I ain't sure us coming with you on this run is a good idea. For all we know, this is just a local phenomenon, and we just happened to have the bad luck of having along someone who triggered it, and once we're clear of Dallas we're clear of whatever this thing is. But just in case it's in a following mood, I don't want to put the rest of you folk in danger. Especially during a hard run like this is shaping up to be." He looked at Turk. "Sorry, man. I don't mean to be a downer. It sounds like you could use our firepower on this run. But I have no clear idea what we're dealing with here. If you still want us along, knowing the risks, then we'll come. But if you don't like the odds, then give me an alternate route. We can rendezvous after we've shaken this thing."

In reply to Mateo (msg # 49):

Kelly pivoted to Syb, looking at her.  "You don't talk much, I already like you better."

Kelly paused only slightly.  She was feeling a little, well, cheeky today.

"Why go to, or rather toward, Albuquerque."

At the Driver's Meeting



The Drivers listen to Harry's explanation patiently.  At the end of it, they shared the quiet, meaningful looks that folk who have worked together for a very long time are capable of.  Patience spoke up first, "Is that it?  You all had some weird dreams and maybe woke up hurting?  You don't know what did it.  You don't know if its following you or just something around here.  Seems to me, you can't really make any good decision till you know something certain."  She lifted her hands as though to indicate the very world around us, "This world is full of weird shit.  Constantly.  Never ending.  I have been chased by worms the size of my damn truck.  I have seen sykers make folks dance and sing and burn inside out.  I have fought Doomers, the dead, gangers, shadows, robots, fish men...  Jesus...  Fucking dreams now..."  She trails off, shaking her head.

Turk chuckled a bit, looking up to Harry, "I think what Patience might be tryin' to say is, we deal with weird stuff all the time.  Every day is dangerous.  But we keep goin'."  He nodded off towards where the Black Dog was parked, "You're a dead man stuffed full of military hardware driving a truck that looks like it just rolled off the lot from Before and fell through time to now.  /You're/ weird shit.  Sometimes its nice to have some weirdness on your side.  We didn't take you and yours on out of kindness.  We fully expect you all to give anybody who tries to take us on absolute weird-ass hell.  You think you can handle that?"

Bud blew out a small cloud of smoke, deadpanning quietly to Reefer Man, "Besides, maybe we'll get lucky and get that Faraway dream too, eh?  Always wanted to see another planet...  This one has gotten old."

Reefer Man grinned a little back at Bud, then looked up at Harry again.  Everyone had to look to Harry, "Maybe we can help?  Like Patience and Turk said, we have seen some things.  We know some things."

At the Black Dog



Mateo quietly mouthed Al-bu-quer-que while Kelly spoke, as though trying to learn it.  For the question,  he started to answer, then looked back to Syb again...  Looking for permission?  Suggestions?

Syb shrugged faintly, answering simply, "Family."

With that, Mateo turned back again, "Yeah.  She heard she might have some family that way.  She wanted to go and I want to get her there.  Safer with the convoy than walking."

Harry was quiet a moment, though inwardly, he felt light. These were good people. He looked at Turk. "We can handle that, yeah. Just wanted you to know about a possible problem. There've been many folk I've run across who ain't willin' to deal head-on with weird shit. Them as who'd encourage me and mine to move along, at gunpoint if necessary. So I'm glad to hear you're willin' to stick by us." He looked over at Reefer Man. "I reckon you should talk to Dean directly, then. He was fair sure the whatever-it-was had its eye on him. Meanwhile, I'll be askin' The Dog if he seen or sensed anything last night. Our rig...has a mind of its own, let's say. He might have picked up somethin' normal folk'd miss."

In reply to Mateo (msg # 53):

Kelly looked to Fletcher, inviting commentary with her eyes.  But for now she continued, since they made it easy for her to do so.

"And why do you want her to get there?"

Reefer Man, Robert, gave a quick nod to the suggestion of speaking to Dean and seemed even more interested at the notion that the Black Dog...had a mind of its own...  But, before the engineer could start in with follow up questions, he was cut off.

Turk cleared his throat to regain attention, "We'll have to get all the details on down the road.  Best to get these trucks movin' out before we lose too much of the mornin'.  Quicker we go, quicker we're through.  Got schedules."  Turk nodded to each Driver in turn as he laid out the order, "Patience rolls first and will take point for the first leg.  The Bizarre follows her.  Then the Icebox.  Bud, you're next."  Turk finally looked up to Harry, with a slight grin, "That puts you and your Dog behind the 8-Ball.  Tail-end Charlie.  Told we didn't agree to let you tag along out the kindness of our hearts.  You know as well as we do, some pack o' scraphogs or other madfucks decides to get frisky, they'll likely hit you first and try to peel you off."  He took a slow, showy, appraising look of the war machine that is Harry, "Which ought to teach them some kinda awful lesson.  I hope." Turk then pointed off to where the scout cars were gathered up having their own meeting, "Trouble's gonna have two outriders ahead of the convoy and we'll have two pacing behind the Dog.  Motorcycles are stowed up, so's the extras can help man the fighting positions on the trucks.  They'll cycle out with the scout drivers as we push on through the darktime.  Harry, you need any extra hands over there?"

Mateo kinda frowned at this, starting to get impatient with the questioning, "Because she asked me and I didn't have shit else better to do...  She needed help.  Not gonna say no..."  He glanced back to Syb, offering a supportive, I'm-your-hero-see? smile after he said his answer.  Syb may of may not have smiled, but with her face covered it was very hard to say.  Ah, young, possibly unrequited love...

The young hero then looked back to Kelly..then Dean...and Crowboy too, "How about you?  Why you headed West?  Heard you are new to Turk's convoy..."

In the Cab

It had taken Fletcher most of the past week or so to put together all his scrounged bits from Lockesburg's repairshop in what he hoped would do the job required.  All of his puttering with electronics had attracted the attention of a curious, hopeful tech spirit.  It used to buzz and hum along the airwaves of the the old cellular communications system.  It had recognized the bits that Fletcher was using...  Hoped for a home...

A bargain was easily struck...

The Junker had almost finished it last night, but was forced to sleep.  Stupid biology.  Even worse that the sleep had been so frustratingly interrupted...  But he had it now, everything was in place.  The cell spirit buzzed and hummed happily as it powered the junky addition to the pristine CB system of the Dog.

The dial was tuned...  Static...  Static...  Till it hit Channel 19.  Then the Junker CB-Rig really began to hum and glow faintly.

"...Nine...  Breaker-breaker 1-9...  Radio check.  Anyone...  Anyone got ears on?"

Fletcher squinted just a bit as he turned the dial.  The cab was roomy, but if the radio he'd cobbled together wasn't happy, there wasn't much room to get out of the way if it really decided to try and get some revenge.

As the hum increased he leaned back until the squeal turned into an actual voice.

He couldn't help but grin as he picked up the mic and pressed the button.

"That's a big 10-4, you're comin' in loud and proud."  He replied.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:07, Mon 22 Mar 2021.

Harry did some quick mental calculus. With him likely driving, and Kelly being more a close-quarters fighter, that left Dean, Fletcher, Crowboy, and Pru as shootists. Dean seemed good both ranged and when able to sneak in. Fletcher he wasn't sure about...most of Fletcher's devices seemed to be closer range affairs, and Harry hadn't seen him actually shooting a firearm during the whole Lordesburg thing. Crowboy was alright, but kind of excitable. Pru was likely the best shot out of all of them, but she couldn't be on duty 24 hours at a time for three days straight.

"I think so." He said at last. "Not a whole lot, but I think we need one gunhand and someone who might be able to take over the rig when I'm powered down. If you don't mind, I'll ask around at the market a bit, see if there's anyone who's looking for passage West and willing to barter their skills. If I can't find anyone suitable hanging around, we'll make do, but in my experience there's usually someone who needs to get somewhere hanging around when trucks pull in."

"We promised ta move th' truck out that way."  Kelly patted the Dog.  It was as much of the truth as they needed to hear.  "Either o' ya'll much drivin' one of these things anyhow?  It's black magic to me.  I don't know for the life of me how Harry does it with one hand, but he does it."

The CB crackled back into static for a moment, "Well, thanks for fixin' the radio, good neigh..bor...  Signal's been...  been poor..  What's your handle?"

"Always,"  Turk agrees, "Choose careful as you can and keep a sharp eye on them.  It'd be a damn bold one to try and pull something on you.  Even so, they won't have much opportunity for too much mischief.  Your rig.  Your risk.  I'll have Trouble pick someone to send over.  We've got a couple tryin' to get hours on rigs that'd appreciate the chance."

The convoy chief looked back around to the other Drivers, "Now for the boring shit..."  What followed was a quick rundown of the check-in times and codes.  A quick sketch-out of the next ten hours or so of driving.  Discussions about possible quick stopover points, that sort of thing.  They should hit the first delivery stop at about that ten hour mark, if all goes well.  So don't hold your breath.

That stop is somewhere near the old city of Wichita Falls, now know as Wichita Fell.

After the discussion, the Drivers gave their pleasantries, except Patience who hated pleasantries, and began to head off for their rigs to start getting things finished up to roll.  Unless Harry had a mind to stop any of them, he was also free to head off.

Mateo looked back at Syb again to check.  She gave a faint shake of the head.  Then he looked back again to Kelly.  He seemed to think about it for a moment, then decided on, "No...  But I'm a fast learner.  Gimme a chance and I bet I could do it, eh?  So, we're in?  We can come?"

"Glad we could get ya out'a the mud."  Fletcher replied, grinning at how well things seemed to be working.

For the moment.

"You can call me the Junkman."  He replied after a brief pause to figure out an appropriate reply.  He didn't know much about dead folks, but he figured if he tried to fit in with the Driver and what he was used to, it might make things easier.  Couldn't hurt at the very least he reasoned.

In reply to Prospector (msg # 63):

Harry, not having any real reason to keep anyone, heads off -- first back to the Dog, to see if anyone had learned anything while he was away, with plans to head to the Market after.

The CB crackled with static again, then the voice returned, "Copy that, Junkman.  Glad to know you...  Knew...  Helped before..."  The voice faded into static again, then slowly came back, "Looks like the convoy's startin' up...  We got the go ahead?  Where's Harry?"

As the Driver's voice called it across the radio, Fletcher could just start to hear the other rigs beginning to rattle and rumble through getting started.  None sounded great about it, but they would eventually get started up.

Fletcher could also see the great, clanking form of Harry striding back to the Dog through what little was left of the crowd....

Harry's clanking, whirring approach would be notable by almost anyone.  What was left of folk around the settlement found anything else to do and anywhere else to be.  Luckily most had places to be and things to do so they didn't have to just dart off fearfully with no direction...

The trucks were going through the startup procedures.  Stop and starts and trying again.  Nothing worked very well anymore...well...  The Black Dog was an exception.  A worrying, wondering exception.

Harry could see Kelly at the edge of the trailer talking something over with two scavenger folk.  Dean was leaning against the camper, watching silently.  Crowboy was lingering nearby, tying something down or shifting something around.  Y'know.  Useful.
Prudence was guarding the fifty and watching everywhere else.  Just in case.

At the cyborg's approach, the young man and the girl both cast a look his way.  The young man's eyes went big at the sight, "Damn!  I heard...  But...  Damn..."

The girl seemed....less surprised, but it was still hard to tell...

Harry!  NOTICE

"Howdy." Harry nods to the two scavenger people. "Can we help you with somethin', folks?"

((OOC: 00:33, Today: Rusty Harry rolled 2,1 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,1.  Notice. *sigh* Going to spend a White Chip on that.

00:35, Today: Rusty Harry rolled 2,3 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,3.  white chip.

Seriously? Nope. I'm oblivious.))

"They wanna sign on Harry.  Told 'em no pay, but a free ride, and I reckon a fair cut if we do come across anything out there that would give anyone a cut of anything.  They seem all right with that.  They've told me good enough lies so far, really."  Kelly shrugged.  "Told 'em they were goin' nowhere unless everyone was all right.  Ah'm all right.  I ain't heard nothin' opposed from anyone."

Harry would know Kelly's little tactics pretty well by now.  Her opinion was actually a little more positive than that, but she was being standoffish and kind of a bitch, though not a whole-blown one, for, well, reasons.

She pointed her thumb at Syb.  "That one's smarter than th' other one."

And that was also a classic Kelly tactic.  The tests of character had already begun.

"On his way by the sound of it."  Fletcher informed the Driver.

Even over the more distant rumbling of diesel engines struggling to come to life the distinct gait of the cyborg stood out.

"He was meetin' with the other drivers, so should have word in a moment on the low down."

Harry nods and looks the two over. "Right. Well, here's the deal. We're about to embark on a hard run at the edge of Coyote territory. That's three full days with minimal stops, only long enough to piss and switch around drivers. And we're at the bitch end of the line, because we're the most heavily armed. That means if there's any raiders that want to take a shot at the Convoy, they're going to try to get through us first. So with that all said, can either of you drive a rig? Or keep a decent shot while on the move?"

Harry wasn't saying this just to intimidate the pair. He made sure he was loud enough for the rest of the crew to hear him, as this seemed like a good enough time to let them in on the details of the run as any. He was curious to see how well the boy there would respond to Kelly's jab at his expense.

Mateo bristled a little at Kelly's report that he was "lying."  A little more at the dig that Syb was smarter than him.  The digging was starting to get to him, obviously.  But the threat of the cyborg and the fact that they really needed the ride...  So the young man choked it down and put his attention back to Harry and his summary of the drive to come...

The description didn't seem to phase Mateo, but he kinda looked young and dumb enough that he probably wouldn't let any dangerous description phase him.

Syb glanced up at Harry as he spoke.  Still hard to tell much with her mask, but she didn't seem bothered either.  More resigned if anything.

At the questions, Mateo straightened up, "I can shoot."  He failed to mention whether it was "on the move" or not.  Or whether Syb could.  And kept talking quick enough to try an cover for that, "Never drove a truck...  But, we got two sharp eyes each, eh?  Sounds like you could use more eyes on this run, right?  Seein' any assholes comin' up quicker, gotta be worth a ride..."

The voice on the radio crackled, "Copy that, Junkman.  I think I got eyes on now...  Best get...ready...  Sara's waitin'...  Thanks again, neighbor.  Nice to...  Nice to be heard..."

The gear shift in the cab drifted on its own, settling into neutral.  The clutch went down slower under an unseen weight.  Then the Dog growled to rumbling life in one swift go.  Smoke coughed from the stacks for a moment before the truck settled into an easy idle.

Lots of folks glanced over at the Dog's start up.  Been a while since anyone heard a machine start up so easy and clean.  There would be jealousy.....