Artie, after coming to, had one helluva headache. He foolishly touched his head and aggravated his gash. He let out a silent scream. Then even more foolishly, he touched his head again to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He wasn't. "OWWW!!! WHAT THE F*CK WAS THAT?!?!?" Then he noticed the Behemoth stopped. He took a gander at his gloves and saw the sight of fresh blood. It was his. He had a gash on his forehead. It hurt and it was extremely messy. The blood made a journey to his eyebrow, causing him to shake the blood away before it reached his eyes and impaired his vision. "Oh, hell to the no." he said at the sight of his own blood. He figured it would happen sooner or later, but he hoped for the latter. Not to mention he always thought he would panic if he saw himself bleeding excessively. Contrary to his initial belief, he was quite annoyed. He stayed down for a second, catching his wits. He saw Gaston was hurt. The first guy to reach out to him after his Roughneck buddy, they seemed to work well together. Alec what was the gentleman wanted to be called. Artie hoped all was well with Alec. The second Ghost, whom he had not met yet, was carrying Gaston towards the doctor. Artie was hoping one of these cuties would play doctor with him. Artie sat up and leaned with his back against the stubber seat. He reached for a cigarette and a lighter. He examined the degree of damage and figured he'd light it right there. It was so damn cold, the cigarette wouldn't light. Then he reached into the inner lining of his parka and pulled out a flask. Yes, sir. He had a concoction he and Chris called Roughneck Surprise. He took a sip of it and snapped his head back. He smelled cigar smoke, the Captain was still alive.
Spencer ran to Gaston's fallen body soon after the Veridians launched into full retreat. Spencer nodded as he helped the doc pick him up. "A Ghost is invisible." He answered. "The outside blends in; it's what we're made of that counts." He looked over at the doctor. "You, for instance. You don't look like you belong out here at all."
Chris had become quite proficient at reloading and unjamming the gun, and even more proficient at killing with it. He no longer had to think about breath control, or trigger squeezing techniques. He turned himself over to his primal side, guided only by his instincts and a distinct desire to live. He shot at everything moving that he couldn't readily identify as a friendly. The Veridians were everywhere, guiding the 50 cal was his only mission, he didn't let anything distract him, not Eve calling for help, or the doc coming aboard, not even the crossbow bolt lodged in his shoulder. A huge explosion knocked him out of his frenzy, but only momentarily, he resumed killing shortly after, shooting the Veridians in the back as they retreated..
Slowly, the world around him began to come into focus. Instincts retreated back into his subconscious, and cognitive thought made it's way back to the forefront of his mind. Chris took in his surroundings. Truck one was down, someone lay in the snow, being cared for by 2 others. Chris felt a twinge of fear that it may be his friend Artie, he hoped, whoever it was, that it wasn't too serious. It was then that he noticed the bolt in his shoulder. The flux of adrenaline hadn't fully ebbed, so it didn't hurt too bad. He ducked down out of the hatch and looked to Eve. He noticed that the windsheild was broken, and that most of her meters and gauges along with her person was covered in crimson. He also noticed the bandage on her neck. "Jesus... are you alright?" He asked, beginning to feel the bolt in his shoulder.
Feeling much better, Arthur took another shot at the stubber, no pun intended. Still shaking his head free of blood, he tried to juggle that and aiming the gunner at enemies. He spotted a Veridian here, a Veridian there. The ones in plain sight he burned down immediately. "HOW DOES IT TASTE, MOTHAF*CKA?!?!? DESCRIBE IT TO ME!!!" He slowly established a good work rate, picking off Veridians at a leisurely pace. Then they started charging the Behemoth all over again. Luckily for Artie Boy, they weren't heavily armed. Or skilled. He sprayed a line and wipe out a good six or seven of them. "YOU LIKE THAT, BITCHES?!?!? I'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO SCREAM ABOUT!!!" He let more shots off as the Veridians seemed to be doing all the identification work for him. Every cannibal conquered raised his confidence immensely. With a flesh wound in his leg and a gash on his forehead, he would need medical attention very soon. He shook his head a few more times to keep the blood out of his eyes.
"Jesus... are you alright?" Chris asked. Eve winced in pain as she tried to look up at Chris she rubbed her sore shoulder that just made it worse. She saw the bolt in Chris’s shoulder and winced thinking of her own. “Aw, look you got a souvenir too.” She held up the bolt the doc had pulled out of her. All the buzz of the fight had got her talking, Eve was sure it was the adrenalin that had given her the balls to make this sort of conversation with the other crew members. “Don‘t worry about me, someone was a little hungry, but he got what was coming to him. How are you holding up? Want me to call for help?”
"Nah, I think the Doc has his hands full up front. From my veiwpoint in the hatch i could see people pulling one of our convoy mates out of the snow, he looked pretty messed up. Besides, I'm a Roughneck, I've had bigger bolts drilled into me before" Chris grinned. He quickly followed up with a frown and added; "... ermm... I didn't mean that the way it sounded." Chris inspected his back to see if the bolt had an exit point. It didn't. I hadn't gone all the way through. "F**K!" Chris leaned back in his seat and looked up out of the hatch. He saw the stock of the 50 cal and an idea came to mind. "Eve, I need you to yank this out of me." He said gesturing at the bolt.
“I’m stuck in the middle of bum f*** with a bunch of psycho’s who are desperate for a meat lovers pizza and want to wear me as a hat” Eve muttered after Chris had gone back through the hatch. "Eve, I need you to yank this out of me," He said. Eve grinned normally she’d have a fit and refuse but she’d seen enough today not to be to worried about it. “Okay but remember I‘m not your general mamby, pamby female. Gentle is not my forte.” Eve let the truck stop it’s engine still rumbling. “Tell me when and how and I‘ll do what you need.”
As quick as you can, and as straight as you can, and make sure not to twist it." Chris grabbed a rag from a pouch in his belt, sat back in his seat, and braced himself. "Just do it, don't countdown or tell me when, I don't want to know when it's coming. Just remember, Quick, straight, and no twist--" Eve yanked the Bolt out cleanly, as Chris doubled over with pain. "GaahhhhhHHHHHHHH!!" he screamed at her. " That hurt alot worse than I thought it would." He didn't know if he could go through with the second part of what he had planned. No. He had to, he would lose too much blood. He stood up on his chair, pushing his torso through the hatch and pulling himself on top the the rig with his good arm. Facing the 50 cal, He swung it around on it's mount until the barrel, still glowing from the constant firing, was facing him. He had to move while it was still hot. He grabbed it with the heat resistant rag he'd secured earlier, and thrust the open wound onto the red hot barrel, screaming into the frozen plains...
Eve followed Chris up and put a hand over her mouth in shock as he swung the scorching barrel round to himself and seared the wound like it was a piece of sirloin. It was all the gagging she could take for one day the scent of cooked human flesh had her lean from the side of the truck and vomit till her throat burnt from the vile she’d brought up. She wiped her mouth on her sleave and turned back to Chris. He was howling in pain, Eve took a little snow from the side of the truck and pressed it into the wound. Knowing her luck it was a stupid action but she couldn’t bare hearing a fully grown man scream like that. She went to step back and he moved with her. His full weight slumped against her Eve cautious sat with him rested against her. “There, there,” she managed to croon "it wasn’t that bad. No doubt it will heal better now.” She felt stupid for her sloppy emotions. She just didn’t like the idea of good people suffering alone. It stirred something within her that was a little to deep to be dragged up as a memory. She ran her fingers through his hair thoughtful and daydreamed about large gouge marks down her arm and the taste of her own pain, which she couldn’t help but romanticize about.
Chris came to, in Eve's warm embrace. She ran her fingers through his hair as she cooed comforting words into his ear. He realized he must've momentarily passed out form the pain. Smooth Chris, real smooth. He thought to himself. He smile crept across his face as he made eye contact. "Thanks Eve. You know, this is the first time you've ever talked to me, not counting the times you were shouting orders..." He ran a finger across her cheek. "I could get used to this."
Eve flushed and for a moment considered destroying his most manly parts, then decided since he was hurt she’d let it slide. She almost felt that his touch was a little to daring, even if she didn’t mind it that much. “Are you sure about that?” she said with a gleeful grin. “After all I am renowned for destroying things not nurturing them.”
“After all I am renowned for destroying things not nurturing them.” Chris caught a glimpse of something in her eyes that scared the sh*t out of him. "You and me both, kid." He said, sitting up, testing his shoulder. "But seriously, thank you for your concern. And thanks for keeping me alive thus far."
She gave him a warm smile and stood up brushing herself down, “hey we‘re truck three we can‘t destroy stuff without you can we now. I‘d have no one to shout at.” Eve offered Chris her hand to help pull him up. “Your braver then me fixing your wound the way you did.”
"Nah, i just don't like to be touched. Not by men anyway." Chris grinned. "I guess i should get back up on the gun. We're not outta the woods yet, right?" Chris stood back up through the hatch taking his position behind the 50. "Call if you need anything!" he yelled back down at her.
Drake had quickly found out that they were Veridians. His anger had slowed out then. He had himself knocked down many Veridians. The fight was ended with Louie's rocket. He however was safe as he was quite a distance away. He was fighting safely as he hung on the rear of truck 4. He did not get any serious wounds. As the fight ended he dropped and entered the truck. He told Helena, "This fight was not as worse as the last one when we were outnumbered two to seven."
On Hawks command Steward headed back to convoy 3, half-way there he could see the doc and one of the ghosts carrying his companion "Need a hand?" the doc seemed to be having abit of trouble but he shook his head "We'll be fine, Could you do me a favor?"""Errr yea sure" "Could you run to the convoy and make a few beds with the spare blankets. Then after that could you run back to convoy 1 and pick up two boxes of disinfective?" Steward nodded leaving the 3 men behind at a run. Approaching the convoy he signalled to Eve to lower the ramp. On entering the vehicle he was hit by a pungent odour he wrickled up his nose "ARGHH what the f*ck is that smell, smells like semi cooked meat, actually it smells pretty delicious" he started laying down blankets on the floor of the convoy doubling them over for comfort he repeated them as he made 4 beds he threw any spare blankets in a pile under one of the chairs "Just going shopping, I'll be back in few minutes" he told the other two as he smiled "Eve, Slam the heating on, love" He ran back towards the first convoy, he approached the passenger door and knocked on it Hawke seemed like he was dozing off with his cigar dangaling from his lip "Sorry to wake you sir, i need to pick up 2 boxes of docs special remedy" Hawke leaned away from the window and he seemed to grumble something to the driver, few seconds later the trucks ramp was dropped "Cheers!" rooting throughout the boxes looking for a clear indication for the 2 boxes after 2 minutes he found what the doctor asked for he picked the boxes up, they were little heavier than he had expected. * Walking back up the ramp of convoy 3 he could see the ghost being treated followed by Chris and Eve, placing the boxes down where the doctor indicated. "Doc, after ya done here wouldnt mind taking these stitches out of me ass would ya?" Lewis noticed Chris and Eve talking at the front of the truck "AWWW..... Look at the two love birds ain't it cute," he said while placing his arms around both of them he placed his head closer to Chris and whispered "get in there are kid" he turned to Eve and noticed the bite mark on her "JEEZ...you two already at it, i see" pointing towards the bite on Eve, Steward burst out into laughter as she took a swipe for him followed by a dangerous glare "Chris, get grip of that women of yours" smirking slightly as he could see Eve getting more annoyed by the second, inside lewis paniced at the strange look she was giving him and said the first thing that came to mind "CUP OF TEA, ANYONE?"
As soon as she was sure the Veridians were definitely gone, Sadie started hunting through the corpses for her switchblade. She’d thrust it into a Veridian that had come up behind her, then lost track of it in the heated crush of the melee. Now the battle was over, however, she was annoyed at the loss of a good knife. There where hilts sticking out of several of the corpses, but none was the familiar ebony handle … ah. Sadie paused, catching sight of it. There it was. Sadie picked her way over to it through the corpses, and reached down to pull it out. She tried to ignore the sound of it sliding through the dead flesh, and wiped the blood off without looking. Although her training had hardened her to such experiences, she still found avoiding them if possible was the best route to go. Well, the battle could have been worse, Sadie considered as she trudged back over to her truck and swung herself up. Though it could also have been much better. If something had to explode every time to chase of their enemies, they might find themselves in a lot of trouble.
"Doc, after ya done here wouldnt mind taking these stitches out of me ass would ya?" Omar sighed. "Somehow I get the feeling I wont ever be done here... Thanks for the permanganate." He jumped up through the hatch to berate Chris. It was a little difficult to do with the man holding a giant machine gun. "Are you insane? You're walking around with an open wound! Do you want to get infected and die? Come here!"
Spencer helped the doctor get Gaston to truck three, laying him down on one of the blankets that had been prepared for the injured. The doc was running about yelling at people and administering drugs and stitches. Now that the adrenaline had slowed in his veins, Spencer began to feel the pain of his own wound. There were others who had worse, though. He rummaged through the med supplies and found some bandages, gauze, and disinfectant. He then left truck three and made his way to his newly-assigned post in the lead truck. He moved to the back of the vehicle, and removed his heavy coat, and then his layers of shirts underneath. Once he had laid the wound bare, he proceeded to clean it, biting back the pain.
"Don't get cocky Drake, and don't take our success for granted. They could come back with greater numbers. We could encounter something a lot worse just around the corner." She smiled, "But I am glad I didn't go head first throught windshield again." She set the loaded shotgun down next to her seat and returned her attention to the drive. A moving target is harder to hit after all.
The sky began to turn dark and the cold became colder ice cones began to appear on the sides of the trucks and armoured carriers as layers of snow bean to form from the falling snow under the dark sky.
"Chris, get grip of that women of yours" smirking slightly as he could see Eve getting more annoyed by the second, inside lewis paniced at the strange look she was giving him and said the first thing that came to mind "CUP OF TEA, ANYONE?" Quite the character. Chris thought to himself as he resumed his position behind the 50 cal. Chris watched as the Doc approached, he looked irate. "Are you insane? You're walking around with an open wound! Do you want to get infected and die? Come here!" Chris looked at the bloodsoaked hole in his uniform. "Ohh no, it's okay Doc, I already took care of it, see?" He said opening his coat, revealing crusty, burnt flesh. "I cauterized it with the barrel of the 50."
The convoy began to pick up speed again once it had passed the ruins of Old France and headed on the long roads up into the hills. The snow began to fall heavy and the atmosphere became colder as the side windows began to freeze up.
"You cauterised..." the doctor began. That was actually quite impressive, but Omar didn't let it show. "Who the fυck do you think you are, Rambo? You can't magically cure a wound by burning it. That just gives you a burn wound on top of your other one. Hold still." He moved forward, disinfected it, applied a styptic. "Y'know," he said more quietly, "there's such a thing as being too tough. Girls like a bit of vulnerability and sensitivity in their men. Just FYI."
