Alexei, hearing the machine guns, pointed to himself,

"Can fix much, but not that without operation room." to be clear with everybody present.

Seeing Troy take off in a jog, Alexei followed closely. Despite all of the weight he was carrying, he seemed still quick and comfortable with the movements... clearly physique wasn't going to be an issue for him, but he certainly wasn't going to be as useful in direct combat as somebody like Troy, and possibly this new woman.

Well the situation just kept improving didn't it? She'd really wanted the opportunity to dry out a little but Florence guessed you had to lose a little something to get something else. At this point in her "survival journey" she'd long realized it was a world of compromises, and very rarely did you get everything you wanted.

While that was all true it wasn't the time for philosophising, these new machine guns meant even more attention and they had to get moving.

Florence grabbed her bike and followed her new aquaintances into the night.

"Troy, up here! Troy!" Jake called out from the window of the Waffle House. "Everyone is inside and organized."

He waved to Troy and then ducked back out sight. Lightening flashed allowing Troy, Alexi, and Florence to get a quick glimpse several people posted up as sentries in the nooks and crannies.

Troy waved in recognition and trotted straight to the door.

He stopped just outside and waved Alexei and Florence in while looking back toward the highway trying to see the muzzle flashes from the machineguns.

'really hope these guys are more reasonable than the last group that had that kind of firepower...'

He shook off the dark thought and was simply grateful for the roof.

Time passed, the firing and explosions ended about as abruptly as they had started. In the bright flashes of lightning they could just make out the interstate through the torrential rain that had squelched the fires from the burning cars. The horde had moved on, what little of it that remained, northward. No one could tell if the undead had overran the machine gun armed party on the interstate.

Many people had settled back down for the night, to sleep as much as they could before the sun rose in several hours. Many hung wet clothes to dry, changing into whatever they had available or simply wrapping in their bedding. Candles had been set up cleverly inside empty cans to create heat without shedding a lot of light. Soon the air in the Waffle House stank of steamy sweat.

A man, someone Troy let again couldn't put a name to a face of, stepped over from his post at one of the windows and leaned over to whisper to Alexi quietly.

"I think that man, Pike, is coming in." The man whispered. "But, he is looking for us at the Mapco instead of here."

Thinking that looked like a very good idea Troy took a dry t-shirt, briefs, and cargo shorts out of his fancy Mariposa backpack. He stripped with the casual indifference of a young man in very, very good shape and redressed in the dry clothes.

Not for the first time since this started he considered that he needed to acquire some more rugged clothes. Putting down Zack was about mobility, fighting evil people was much more strenuous.

'...and harder on the knees.', he thought looking at his battered lower limbs.

He was redressed and close by, but not close enough to overhear, when the sentry delivered his message to Alexei.

Turning immediately towards Troy, Alexei moved closer, seemingly unperturbed by the man's ability to be 'all business',

"Pike coming. Looking at Mapco?" he asked, simple and to the point, but unsure if Troy knew of the location he was speaking about,

"Is time for action?" he asked, fully prepared to grab everything he needed to move.
Alexei himself, after all, was nearly all business.

"Cool."

Troy thought for a second.

"Take the guy that spotted him with you and go get Pike. Make sure he's okay. Don't die. Okay?"

Florence was thankful as they finally entered the waffle house, the first truly dry space she'd seen since In a minute, even the bathroom she'd been staying in was always in the moister side of things.

She dried her clothes on a personal line she rigged up, it wasn't that she thought everyone was a threat she just wasn't the most outgoing boisterous person and not one prone to introducing herself. After so much time travelling alone you lose a little bit of yourself that knows how to socialize, hell the whole damn apocalypse had made sure nobody could trust each other. She had another set of gym clothes in her bag which weren't too damp and she slipped those on while she waited.

She decided to She decided to search the backpack she had gotten from the gas station while she had a moment of safety.

"Can do." The man on sentry duty said quietly. He offered his hand to Alexi. "Randy Dolvich, glad to me you."

He was tall man, in his forties at least, and too lean to be healthy. It was the stress of living in constant fear, Alexi had seen it often enough, but the man seemed eager enough to fight to survive. He held a .22 caliber pistol that at some point had its muzzle threaded and now had a Fram oil filter fitted to its muzzle as an impromptu sound suppressor.

"I'm ready to go when you are pal." Randy told Alexi.

To Florence's relief the back wasn't a collection of beer, cigarettes, and skin magazines. That had been a disappointing find to say the least. But this pack was pretty well stocked by someone intent on living a decent life on the road.

It contained a neatly rolled hammock, several dark colored sheets to use as summer weight bedding, quite a large folded up mosquito net, an even larger tarp, a rolled up ground mat, a fire starting kit with several lighters, matches, some tender, several stick of fat wood, a ferro rod,  and a small bag of char cloth, a large pillow case held an assortment of canned chili, tuna, spaghetti with meatballs, corned beef hash, green beans, sweet corn, and carrots, there was a large plastic bag holding fat bullets with .50 GI, 300 gr. written on the bag in black marker, there was a change of clothes for a man of average build, another pillow case holding shredded paper for toilet use, a toothbrush, a half box of baking soda, a cake of homemade soap, two rags, a towel, a straight razor, and nail clippers, but the most significant thing in backpack was tackle box holding bandages, gauss pads, surgical tapes, super glue, butterfly sutures, a collection of over the counter pills in blister packs for pain, diarrhea, inflammation, cramps, colds, fatigue, sleeplessness, fevers, and infection, tourniquets, needles, fishing line, tweezers, probes, scalpels, scissors, hand sanitizer, and a bottle twenty year old Noval Port that was as yet unopened.

She sighed, who the hell carries a .50 caliber pistol anymore?

Troy looked at toward the Mapco and saw what the sentry had spotted after a moment. A man who was definitely Pike and onther guy he recognized as Bob something-or-other, a former small town cop from Kentucky, were creeping up to the Mapco. Well, sort of creeping, like hiding from the undead but not from the people with guns that were expecting them to show up kind of creeping. They didn't move like either of them were injured and he was glad for that.

"Understood." Alexei said flatly, turning and moving towards where he'd seen Pike.

As Randy shook his hand, he nodded succinctly,

"Let us move." he said, his accent as thick as ever.

Randy had sense enough to wait a moment for the lightning to pass before moving out into the storm. Running back out into the rain was like being slapped in face by mother nature when she was in extreme angry bitch mode. Alexi had water in his shoes, pockets, and ears in seconds.

He followed closely to Randy and the two quickly covered the short distance to the Mapco. They could see Pike and the other man that Alexi had never met as they cautiously checked out the gas station, both men were vigilant but they sort had that drag-ass movement common after an intense combination of run for your life exertion accompanied with holy shit we're gonna die anxiety.

Randy held up his off hand and clicked a flashlight on and off several times drawing the two men. Pike responded like a coil snake striking when exploded into a sprint and ran over to slide up to Randy on his knees in the mud and cover the flashlight with both hands.

"Some of them fuckers on the interstate are using night vision. Funky old-school shit." Pike said. "And they got damned thirty caliber machine guns. Must have been those damned kids that hit you guys yesterday."

That left Alexi curious as hell and a little worried.

"Sounds like it." Randy said in reply as he put the flashlight away. "We're in the awful waffle over here. It's dry and everyone is calm now."

"Did your man Troy make it through?" Poke asked.

"Yeah, and we found that TJ kid. He was in there hiding out." Randy said with a smile. "And some woman just rode on a damned powered bicycle. You know, homemade and all."

"TMI, my friend, TMI." Pike said. "But, thanks for the heads up. Let's go hide and dry out. I got water in places a man shouldn't be wet by now."

Troy approached Florence and squatted next to her speaking quietly.

"I always hate finding the ones that packed smart. Don't like the reminder that you can do everything right and still not make it. Ya know?"

Hearing all of this, Alexei was as cold and businesslike as ever, a lesson learned back home,

"Ok." the most American thing he could manage, "Let us return now." he said, turning back towards Troy and the others, heading through the rain, soaked to the bone.

The quick trip over to the waffle house was uneventful. The returning men were grateful for a chance to get dry, rest, and not feel so exposed.

One of the new fellas, Troy if she remembered correctly kneeled down to talk. She was greatful to some degree, while she didn't always put herself out there that didn't mean she didn't need human interaction like everyone else.

The pack had been stocked very well, and he would have made it to if it wasn't for other people, that is one of the reasons she didn't get too close to people right away because it hurt less when they inevitably lead to your death.

"The apocalypse doesn't care how careful or clever you are," Florence said, regretting how negative it sounded while it was the truth "We're all just one mistake away from all the prep in the world not meaning shit."

"Well said, Ma'am." Said a boy in his middle teens from just behind Troy. He smiled down at Florence. "That bicycle with a motor is cool, really cool. Did you build it?"

Before she could respond, the turned to Troy abruptly and said. "Hey, Troy, those people in the Outback made it out too. Said they were going to head northeast and go check out where they came from or something. It's a bad plan though. Up north is where the most bombs fell. My uncle told me about them."

Yet again, the boy urgently changed perspective and faced Florence saying, "I'm TJ. Nice to meet you."

As if on  queue TJ's head once again shot around to face Alexi just before he blurted out, "Hey, your foreign, like a German or something. I like the accent, it makes you sound like an action movie hero."

"Geezus TJ slow down! He's Russian so more like an action movie villain but he's actually alright."

"Where on the hell did you come from?"

Florence was a little surprised by a voice she hadn't expected, looking up to see a boy heartily agreeing with her nihilistic hallmark thoughts. But just as soon as she had her attention zoom onto a new topic. She opened her mouth to speak and he was talking to Troy.

She laughed to herself, the afterworld did not make enough adderall. Florence answered the questions out loud to her self with a degree of sass because he obviously wasn't listening.

"Yes I sure did nice to meet you.Florence! Charmed I'm sure."

Then chuckled at herself and listened.

"I met them as they were leaving the attack." TJ inhaled. "We hit a few Uncle Dan's old cache spots and loaded up a  bit. We met a woman named Bertha headed northeast into real trouble. We talked about the bombings in the big cities. Shot it out with a Rot Harden. He's a punk, but he had a good gun. It's still in the grass though. Drove to the interstate but the Crows were there so we went the other way to Tunnel Hill. We stayed in an old tire store until the locals showed up, the people there seemed a little off. So, we left and went my grandparent's house. There was a guy there that died, blown up by a deep fryer or something. They wanted to leave, but I just couldn't go north. To many yankees up there."

His accent heavy, he looked surprised and thrown completely off,

"I am no action hero! Vhat is zis?" he hissed angrily, leaning in on TJ.

After a second's hard glare, he grinned widely, his accent still thick, but slightly less exaggerated,

"I am joke, of course. It is good to meet, TJ." he said, offering his non-dominant hand for a shake.

"Glad you found us. Glad they made it out too. Not everyone did."

"Good luck to 'em up there."

Troy stood up and looked around for Pike.

"Hey Pike, what happened up there? Who brought the heavy ordnance?"

Pike looked tired when he stood up.

He smiled and held up his hands, a short crowbar with one end filed to a point and a long reach lighter used to light fire in grills and fireplaces. It made sense, use the gunfire to draw them along to a car leaking gasoline and then set it off. Gas vapor would do all the work.

"A little bait and switch." He said as he dropped the items to his backpack. "I think I might have an idea too; them dead bastards are afraid of fire. Once we set one car off they immediately began to shuffle away from those that caught on fire. Maye we could set a few on fire out front to divert a horde."

Ooc Can I roll ingenuity to see if there's anything I could specifically add to that plan or anything I can build to make it easier. She'd rather have an idea already before she brings it up to someone.

Ooc or I guess more accurately to scan pikes plan for vulnerabilities or areas of improvement, with my skill set directly involved or not.