Gask hopped out of the truck with his rifle in hand looking significantly better than he had two days prior. There was a red line across his nose from where it had been broken and a rather sizable scar just under his hairline. He walked with a slight limp, but other than that and a look in his eyes that would make a child scream, he didn't seem too out of sorts. Falling in next to Sadie, Gask kept his rifle in the ready position, eying the horizon all the time. He knew this place, knew it better than most would ever care to. The wrecked Orlock trucks had sent and involuntary shiver up his spine. Images of his time spent in this place had come flooding back and he had been in a generally bad mood all day.
Hawke walked slowly as the Truck behind followed slowly. He felt the cold biting his face. He kept his gun held in a relax in both hands. The sky was grey filled with white clouds. He could see the ruins in the distance half buildings crumbled and frozen. His mind went back to the two trucks he wondered what fate the driver’s had, had. He felt his fingertips chill even through his gloves but knew he had to stay sharp. The flicker of a light in the far distance caught his gaze. He wondered what it was. A reflection of glass maybe. He looked but could see no sign of life. No sound other than the growl of the big engine behind him. He looked down to the snow the only prints were his where he’d been. It was that eerie feeling Hawke hated, out here it was more than your worth to slip off guard. Anything could happen. Yet Hawke walked on with the convoy following.
Omar shuffled the cards. "Ladies and gentlemen, the name of the game is No Limit Texas Hold 'Em. Buy-in is fifty pounds. Big blind is two. Any takers?" The atmosphere inside the Behemoth was a tad edgy. The doctor figured he'd try to raise their spirits. And take their money.
I follow slowly behind the Ghosts and Hawke. I kept my eyes open because of the ruins that I rather not hit and slow down the convoy. Old France is another place we get to meet worst characters than the Van Haar. I sit back and relax just a bit since we are moving slow a cautiously through Old France.
Drake was still watching the buried trucks when he heard the CB radio, "“Gaston you and Spencer on foot a head of the convoy, we’ll have to take it slow here. Have your wits about you. Drake Sadie I want you out walking besides the convoy weapons ready. Louie up front here with me. We’re all on foot while the Convoy moves slowly through these ruins. All of you will need you wits about. Whatever happens we must protect this convoy. Also I want someone manning the heavy guns on your vehicles. We’re heading into a dangerous crossing here. Hawke Out.” " He caught the radio and furiously said, "Copy that." He thought, "Gosh! I am still injured and he wants me to go out. Anyways thats the order." He put the radio down and took a tablet and his bottle filled with water now from his jacket. He threw the tablet in his mouth and gulped some water. He picked his rifle, walked down the truck and walked besides the convoy. He was alert for any action. The pain killer's effect seemed to start. His pain was slowly vanishing.
The Convoy slowly moved through a street of ruins houses half stood or just a wall a set of old children’s swings stood firm in a square patch. The only sound was that of the growling engines from the convoy. From within the ruins a few followed crouched down from sight these were dressed in furs and carried jagged weaponry across their backs. They moved with stealth. In the distance a warrior his face painted blue watched from a clock tower he held a long sniper rifle and watched with a keen eye. Below groups of men and women dressed in furs moved like ants hiding behind cover unseen carrying blades and clubs some held guns. In the distance a tall warrior stood watching through binoculars his hair long his necklace of fingers moved as the wind passed him. Behind him were several warriors now. One women with a shaven head stood behind her body covered with rotten remains from human and animal alike.
Spencer made it to the head of the convoy and walked with his shotgun drawn and at the ready. To his right he could see Gaston taking lead of the right flank. The sound of the engines was irritating. There shouldn't be any sound. It should be still and quiet. The smell of snow and ice pervaded the space around him, and the crisp air bit at the exposed flesh of his face. The ruin was a graveyard of abandoned houses, factories, and vehicles. There was no sign of life besides their slow-moving caravan. As he walked, Spencer sampled the environment; looking for sniper and cover positions, potential ambush points, and escape routes. And though he saw no life as yet, he couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness that crept over him.
Eve was becoming wary behind the wheel. Here eyes were glad for the ruins the convoy approached. The cab of the truck was silent except for the constant grumble of its engine. Eve scanned the ruins with a constant gaze that flickered from house to house then back to the route she was following. There was something here that made her hairs stand on end. The crumbling walls had a sinister air to them. In their menace they stared down upon her, making Eve feel small and venerable. Swings rested on a sparse square of earth seemed to move alone as if phantoms had come to ride them. Eve decided it would be best if she kept her eyes on the road and ignored the ruins that frightened her so. She licked her lips and looked at the shotgun that rested in the passenger seat with its safety switch on. She wished she was holding the gun it would hake her feel much safer.
As the convoy passed the streets of half standing houses and walls they passed a crooked lamp with the remains of a man hanging from the neck. His legs had been cut off and his chest had been opened leaving his intestines hanging down the body was frozen and long since dead. Across a cage hung from a tall pole that had been erected hanging from the pole was what looked like a large bird cage. Inside two bodies sat limp. Their faces cut clean off and their chests opened up with their intestines hanging through the bars. The tall warrior watched eagerly while the several warriors behind were beginning to get excited at the newcomers. This warrior put down his binoculars. His face was covered in stained blood a scar graced his flesh deeply across his face. One eye red and a chain of fingers hung from his neck he stepped back down from the rubble he watched from. A smile across his sadistic face. In the distance crawling and following the convoy warriors in their tens attired in furs crept silently holding their blades and clubs tightly. While others followed with rifles and small pistols. Each warrior had long matted hair. From the clock tower the warrior with his long rifle watched the two that walked ahead of the main truck. Then turned his sights to the man stood directly in front of the large behemoth of a truck. He appeared to walk with a slight limp. The target ended on the driver then to the men and women that walked at the convoy’s side. The lead warrior slowly moved away from the rubble and behind a wall he gathered his warriors. “Food has come. Soon we will light a big fire and feast on fresh meat.” Said Rabbaddon.
Hawke walked watching the shadows for signs he looked at the hanging body disgust filled his senses as he noticed the cage across the street. The place was covered in thick snow and his feet made a crunching sound as he walked. Still he winced from time to time as his leg still gave him bouts of pain forcing a grimace across his face. Hawke cradled his SA-80A3 in both hands while his senses for danger grew. The sooner they would leave this place the better.
Eve’s mouths gaped at the frost bitten corpse hanging from a lamppost her heart hammered in her chest. She dropped the truck down in gear considering stopping she wasn’t to sure she could go through with this. She wanted to turn around and go back. However she knew doing so was wrong that other people depended on the truck and not her selfish actions.
Gask's eyes kept darting around, seeing half formed shapes in the darkness around the truck as it eked its way along through the shattered ruins. He almost recognized what was happening, could have sword he had seen it before. His eyes darted. Rifle kept at the ready, Gask aimed down its sights. It was one of their weapons, no mistake about it. He knew it would make him one of the prime targets. It was rare enough that someone survived them once, but it would seem a grave insult that Gask had returned to their lands. Gask called ahead to the front of the truck, to Hawke. "Sir...they're watching us. They're all around us."
Spencer felt nausea creep up within him as he viewed the mutilated bodies. He had seen many things that were similarly gruesome, but always they inspired in him a special sort of sickness and anger. To these demons, to kill was not enough. Nothing was enough. They deserved no mercy for crimes like this. They had become animals; to be slaughtered like animals. Spencer gripped his weapon closer to him. If any one of those b******s showed their face around here, he'd better be either running or shooting. Still the hum of the engines droned on; the only sound breaking the world of silence.
The doctor's hands started to shake, causing the card to splatter over the floor. Reavers? Here? This was bad. This was beyond bad. Panic gripped him with an icy vice colder than he'd ever felt. "Christ," he said into the radio, "I'm gonna die. I mean, I can't fight. I don't even know what happened to my gun. I lost it in the first attack. I am so dead! All of you, you're all used to this crap, but I'm a goddamn scientist! I'm not supposed to be out in the middle of a wasteland fighting ****ing Reavers! This... this sucks!"
Hawke heard Gask over the CB "Sir...they're watching us. They're all around us." “Keep your heads clear. We’re armed and in good maintenance.” Hawke called out. Hawke stopped looked saw a shadow move he stopped to the trucks side down on one knee he winced from his wound aimed forwards searched his gun barrel for a target. Nothing. He waited letting the lead truck slightly pass by. Nothing still. Hawke went up again back to the trucks front keeping his gun held tightly one hand on the handle and finger eased on the trigger gently while the over hand resting the barrel. The sky was grey with white clouds and they were passing a large what was once a factory and now a pile of rubble. Hawke turned looked to his left nothing. Frustration and cold bit at him. He hated this. He stopped again. He saw a gutted rat in the snow. He saw a second a third several. He swooped his gun back and fourth. The ghosts hadn’t reported anything up front. He felt uneasy still. He saw severed heads on poles still and frozen spiked on an iron fence. Veridian country Hawke hated cannibals and barbarians yet if they were here they were keeping quiet.
"I think we should turn back," Omar said, trying not to sound like he was pleading. "There's got to be a way around. A safer route, even if it's longer. I mean, for God's sake, half of you are walking around against my recommendation. If you rip your stitches you could bleed to death, don't you people understand that?"
Drake was still calm, though they were surrounded by Veridians. He tried not to look at the corpse. He wanted to attack those reavers. Now this was enough for Drake. He clutched the CB and spoke, "Sir, Give the orders. I am ready to attack them. I have a rocket in my bag. I can also create a thick fog with it if you want to retreat but I want to attack. Take the revenge.".
Rabbaddon stepped up in view of the two ghosts his sword held high behind him thirty warriors clad in fur rose behind him all armed with clubs ball and chains swords axes and small hand guns. A bold headed women stood at Rabbaddon’s side armed with a sub machine gun. Rabbaddon turned to the clock tower in the distance and lowered his sword and raised it in an attack strike. The Veridian sniper took aim and fired. His shot flew through the air and struck Lewis in the shoulder knocking him back slightly. The bullet didn’t break the skin of Lewis just stunned him. Without warning from behind the walls and from within the houses and small buildings that remained Veridian warriors emerged all armed with swords and axes clubs. Some swung balls on chains in the air. “We feast tonight on fresh flesh.” Bellowed Rabbaddon in a voice that would chill the bones. Hawke gazed into the brutes eyes he was taller than the other Veridians and his stair was menacing to the core. He jumped down from his wall followed by his warriors. Hawke dropped to one knee pain wincing through him. He took careful aim and fired. His shot killed one then two then a third shot and fourth. He’d downed five. Gaston and Spencer found themselves flung into a flurry of Veridians forcing the two Ghosts to engage in close quarter combat. Sadie and Drake did as Hawke dropping to their knee’s and taking off shots while the convoy remained moving slow. Artie jumped up to the stubber and began to fire. Mika fired her gun from the side window. Gask looked on in sheer horror at the amount of scavenger’s. Helena ran one over as he’d leaped in front of her carrier. Eve swerved to avoid one but ran another over in the process. Hawke fired and fired reloaded and fired. “Knocking ‘em down is easy but more pop up from nowhere. We’ve got to move in a straight path keep them down with gun fire. If they crowd us it’ll become a difficult task to evade.” Hawke called out as he rammed his barrel into the eye of a Veridian lucky enough to close ranks. Hawke pulled the trigger and watched as the Veridian’s skull came apart with a red wash of liquid leaving half a head with a tongue still flapping on the adversary. Who soon fell backwards limp.
Eves heart had caught in her throat as she saw the man call Lewis take a shot to his shoulder. She could feel her pulse thudding within the veins in her forehead. Within a blink the once sparse ruins were consumed by Veridian. Their screams full of lust for blood overpowered the sound of Eves truck and the mobs seemed to swallow up team members. Eve swerved in fright as a Veridian jumped in front of the truck, it swayed and jolted and the wheels mowed him down. Within the review mirror two strips of crimson tyre treads showed up bold in the white snow. Eve took her revolver from its pouch on her right hip whilst holding the truck steady with one hand. She switched off the safety before aiming at the nearest Veridian she lined up the centre of his eyes and fired a bead into his forehead.
The leader turned about and made the motions to begin. He carried a blade, and in him, Spencer saw a true challenge. He met his gaze evenly and steadily, as if to silently say 'I'll look for you on the field.' And then the Veridians came on. As they came, Spencer leveled his shotgun and began to blaze away, emptying the clip into the mob. Splashes of blood erupted from where the buckshot mangled flesh and bone. His last shot was within two feet of one of the huge men, and the shot blew his entrails out through his back, cutting him almost in two. Spencer shoved his gun back into its scabbard, and drew his katana. Several of these monsters were armed only with blades and other crude melee weapons. Spencer lashed out at one, his weapon spinning effortlessly through the air. The edge caught the Veridian's throat, and he went down. Another charged Spencer from behind, but he caught his blade with his own. He came around in a wide slash that beheaded him. And onward Spencer fought through the endless crowd of murderers; removing heads and limbs, spraying the snow with bright red blood, and impaling bodies on his blade. As he fought on in his rage, bodies piled up around him.
A group of Veridian’s came from behind the convoy and leapt on to the top of the group fours armoured carrier slamming done large clubs and axes across the hull some through petrol bombs down at the large wheels which had no effect of damage. More rushed in then Artie gunned them down from the heavy stubber above the passenger seat the gun blazing shell after shell from the barrel. The Veridian’s get cut down by the hail of gun fire but as they fell in a swath of blood and torn ligaments more Veridian’s appeared from hiding to charge into the group they hefted crude blades some wore necklaces of hands and ears as they charged at the group wearing them down with each wave. Rabbaddon charged through the snow aiming his attack towards Hawke leaping from rubble to wall to ground back to rubble. He swung his large crude sword back and fourth with each movement and made it obvious his attack was aimed for the lead convoy and Hawke.
The air was thick with bullets, shouts and screams all around. Sadie shot off round and after round, occasionally ducking down behind one of the trucks to avoid getting shot herself. She’d already had a near-miss with a crossbow bolt, and she wasn’t keen to repeat the experience. There were just so many! Every time they gunned down one three more charged in to take their place, swords waving and apparently completely unfazed by the prospect of death. Sadie kept repeating Hawke’s orders to herself as a kind of mantra: move in a steady, straight line, try to stop them crowding. Taking a breath, she ducked back round into the fight – and into the path of a Veridian. He swung his sword round at her neck; twisting round, Sadie ducked underneath, reaching out with her left hand to grab his wrist. She wrenched it, hard, to take him off balance, then brought her knee round into the small of his back. He fell forward; bringing her gun up, Sadie coldly shot him. One down. Many more to go.
Hawke Caught sight of the large dark skinned warrior charging towards him sword swing menacingly from side to side. Hawke swiftly removed the empty clip took another clip slammed it in hard aimed and fired. Three bullets flew straight while the fourth swerved the first three killed the nearest of the attackers and the fourth clipped another jumping up. Suddenly Hawke’s world was thrown into pain his vision turning red while his leg began to give way.
Rabbaddon leaped over the fallen bodies of his warriors swinging his sword he cut into two of his own men reaching towards Hawke. He slowed and waited for Hawke’s shots to hit their targets then leaped up bringing the hilt of his crude sword down across the side of Hawke’s face. The Captain winced then dropped to his Knees. Rabbaddon brought his sword up to cut Hawke’s head from his neck.
Suddenly Hawke regained his sense’s and found himself on his Knees he turned to see the large crude sword swipe down. He rolled across the snow merely dodging the large blade as it slammed into the ground shattering ice on impact. Hawke grabbed at an axe from a fallen Veridian he quickly brought the axe to bear parrying another attack from Rabbaddon. Hawke jumped to his feet slinging his gun across his shoulder he launched his foot into the warriors chest.
