Utterly Mad

Hector was, even after having seen Mica's handiwork plenty of times, still taken aback at just how prolific she was. After her remarks and suggestions, despite his reservations he led the way out, unfurling the map upon finding a good place to show it to her.

The map displayed the state they were in, various points of interest and long-obsolete sectors for a failed operation. Of note were the points marked as Priority Sites, most deep within overlapping sectors of operation, indicating the emphasis placed on securing them.

"There are several sites marked here. No real way of telling what was inside them without forcing our way inside, since it was on a need-to-know basis for the people expecting to use this map. But we can use any overlap to hopefully narrow down which of the locations on your registry are the most important." he suggested. "If they're all on the map then we're back to square one, but it's worth a shot..."

"More importantly, however. You sure that the two of you can handle this? I've said before it's dangerous these days to travel along, but..." There was a momentary pause, and the grimace that crossed his face was evident even his helm wasn't on. "I'm reluctant to rope Roxanne into this, Nathaniel's about to become a father, Floyd has his daughter to look after...I was prepared to go looking on my own."

He had written down a list of essentials, Catnip's requested parts along with a few things he hoped to find along the way. They were scrabbled down on the back of Nathaniel's old military map, as it offered a good reference for where to investigate. A few columns of notes, right underneath a few lines of crossed-out coordinates and notes from past experiences. The lab ultimately responsible for his current objective, coordinates to a now-reclaimed bunker, few notes on local streets in a now-ruined necropolis. A hasty translation of directions received from Helen and Quinn, that had been at some point crossed out harshly enough that the paper was nearly torn.

Graphene, and a rough estimate of the amount and expected dimensions. Superalloy, with some almost-arcane notation in the margins on the side, that amounted to reminding himself how to rule out the types Catnip was fairly certain wouldn't be adequate. Plain titanium steel and the odd dark alloy he'd only ever seen adorning the bio-weapons, those wouldn't work.

Besides that, the list was far more mundane. Intact solar panels, fuel filters, more supplies to make up for their minimal stockpile of bio-diesel. He'd taken to leaving the tank hooked up to what remained of their electrical system when it wasn't in use, in other to extend how far he could go without needing to run it off of diesel, but in the long run it wouldn't be enough. Gas mask filters were always useful as well, and ever since they went chasing after Mica he made note to try and find a spare chemical detector, just in case. And finally, camera lenses and other things, as he'd noticed that some of the displays, though they made it through the storm intact, were suffering in quality, and half the thermal imagers no longer worked at all.

But for the recommendations as to the primary items on his list, he had one person in mind to ask, making his way to knock on the door of one building. The fact he even thought of the machine in question as a "person" momentarily crossed his mind, given the sheer annoyance she'd caused pretty much since they made it out of that lab.

"Hey, Medeina? I wanted to check and see if you had any info that might help narrow down where to search for the materials you need, and if you have any details on the particular alloy..."

Jennifer spent time over the last year hunting and making connections. One of those connections, the one camped out in one of her best safe houses in fact, was Dave "Cannonball" D'Souza. Dave was a lanky man with an air of good humor and a handsome face beneath a head of chocolate brown hair. Now, sitting on the couch inside the third floor apartment safe house, he nodded understandingly to the women across from him. Dave was a Hell's Raider. Incumbent leader of the Dynamite Divers and maintainer of some of Jennifer's higher end safe houses.

"Let's go over it again." he said thoughtfully, "You want cattle and you want to run a hit on that dealer over in the orchard." Atomos nodded, noting that Cherise had gone out the front door to take another look at the demolished staircase. It had been the easiest part of setting up the safehouse. The hardest had been the plank spanning the narrow gap between this one and the apartment across the narrow alley between two buildings. The Divers had been hard at work turning other apartments into pieces of the safehouse, making it more fortress than simple hide away. The bridges between were the most impressive bit. The bridge which had started as just a wide plank thrown across the narrow gap between two close set balconies had evolved to a system of retractable rope and ladder bridges.

"Yeah, basically. I'm willing to split the cattle between your my people and your people. As for the tower-" She began.

"Yeah yeah, we've heard the shit music too. I'm more concerned with what the orchard is dealing than I am about faggots moaning into my speakers or getting a prime rib." Dave said. He rummaged around in a drawer while talked and took out a compact. Jennifer scowled at it, but Dave just ignored her. He was a user, sure enough, but not of what Hoyt was dealing. "That guys dealing poison. Something wrong with his fix. I'd be happy to fuck with his operation for you just to get his filth off the map."

"Could you not?" Jennifer interrupted, drawing Cherise back into the room. Dave looked down at his fixings and realized what he was doing.

"Oh, oh yeah, sorry B. Sometimes I forget, right?" He explained. The compact vanished into a jacket pocket and wouldn't be seen by Atomos again that night. She thought that the stuff in the compact would be the death of Dave's clan. Too many of his people took what their leader called "tusk snuff" before their rides. The result was, inevitably, somebody getting too careless with the divers signeture weapon and detonating themselves at high speeds. She'd seen it twice already, one of several reasons she'd dealt fairly but seldomly with the Dynamite Divers. Dave reached over and turned up the stereo between them and listened quietly to the sound coming from it. A mix of heavy bass, low moaning, and a man's voice repeating the line "stuff me daddy" all arranged to some kind of techno beat.

"Ba! Ba! Ba! Bo! Bo! Bo! REACH! FOR THE LAYZUHZ!!!" The radio screamed, in so far as it could scream at the low volume set.

Dave grimaced at it then turned his attention back to the ranger. "Frankly though, if we tried to sack the candy man's place, we'd probably end up getting shot down or blowing ourselves up. Junkies they may be, but the dick heads got some hard folks over there. Also, say we did take the orchard? Then what? The shit may be poison, but junk is junk and most of my guys are just as tweaked as his." Dave went on, accompanying his statement with a telling sniff of the webbing between thumb and forefinger.

"It's all poison regardless..." Cherise interrupted, "If we take the place, it's all being burned to the ground."

"Yeah..." Dave said with a nervous calm, "but it isn't that easy. Seriously though, we could probably help with the steak. The radio, no, the steak, yes. Now listen, the candy man has to get his stock from somewhere right? He's not breeding them then and there on that orchard is he? The clans know because the clans keep an eye on things. The candy man is a tempting target, but he's a hardened target. Still worth watching though right? I'm getting off track, sorry. So... Where's he get the livestock?"

"If he isn't breeding it, he's shipping it in." Jennifer mused, "but where from? Nobody else that I know of has any cattle."

"He's stealing it himself?" Cherise guessed. Dave made a sharp clicking noise and mimed a pistol firing in her direction.

"Bingo. Guy may be a hard core dealer, but he's a raider too. His people are anyway. They hit small settlements for chemical supplies and livestock. If they've got skilled chemists or scientists, his boys kidnap or kills them. If they've got drugs, they burn them. The candy man is a shrewd businessman. The thing is, the cattle can't all be shipped with the rest of the stuff. They have to be checked over to make sure their healthy, then they're loaded into a cattle car and driven back to the orchard. You aren't going to steal so much as a fart from the orchard, but you could probably take the caravan." Dave went over all this with a distant look of whimsy. Entertaining the concept of a hit and run. Only, there was a snag.

"We'd still have to knock out their radio." Atomos observed, "Otherwise, Hoyt would know the livestock had been hit and taken and he might try hunt the truck down to retrieve it... Or send reinforcements if we can't take the truck quick enough..."

Dave leaned back and tucked a hand into the pocket where he'd placed the compact before, slowly turning the little clamshell over and over in his hand. The off white powder inside would send him right off, making him feel powerful and energetic for a bit. The situation seemed hopeless, but of course there were ways they could go about it. Maybe if they had the hardware and support... He thought about his rivals, the Screaming Eagles and the Sun Dogs. The Dynamite Divers were floundering and one of the rival clans would absorb them. The Eagles wouldn't be so bad, but the Sun dogs would be terrible for the Divers. The problem was that it was likely the Sun Dogs would be the ones to unify them. Dave didn't have the numbers or the wits to do it, but maybe... Just maybe, this situation could be used to make a power play? He took his hand out of his pocket and appraised the fox eared ranger sitting in one of the apartments huge overstuffed leather chairs. She had hiked her legs up into the chair unconsciously and crossed them. The luxurious tail lay in her lap like a bundle of blankets and she was running her fingers through it, feeling the fur like it was the first time. Then her ears perked and she shot a look to the radio. Dave didn't see the last because at that moment, he too had averted his attention to the device. It had been silent for some time and they hadn't noticed. When it made a loud "bwip!" noise though, they both realized that the station had been broadcasting nothing but white noise for at least two or three minutes.

"Huh." Dave said, "Guess the Aussie asshat finally got bored for the night."

"Maybe the candy man put him to bed." Cherise guessed ominously.

"Well, it just means we can have a quiet nights sleep." Dave suggested, "Speaking of which, you ladies better get some rest. I'll put some feelers out, maybe get the Eagles and the Sun Dogs in on it, and I'll give you an answer in the morning."

Jennifer perked up at that and gave Dave a hopeful look. "You really will? Try to get together with your rivals I mean? That's very adult of you. I hope it goes well then, I really do." Dave waved a hand at her as if to say 'aw, go on you.' For show at least. The girl had always been one to push for cooperation among the clans and especially between the clans and the refugee center. Dave knew all about her mingling with just about everybody, including her infiltration of a few God's Army scouting parties that came into the area. A lot of the clans did, and some of them even had the hopes that she would do it. Atomos was no Big Dog though. No "Great Khan" figure, and she wasn't willing to use the methods Big Dog had used to get everybody together like that again.

"Naw... Well, maybe. We'll see. Go get some rest and I'll see what's what in the morning." He instructed dismissively.

   A shocking turn of events; There was a meteor strike off the coast of California, just off the border of mexico! Many have travelled there due to the strange happenings, beginning a small scale gold rush! Rumors are stemming that there's also fighting for the meteor between Mexico, The United States, and a currently unknown, foriegn Third Party.



   Clydesdale gave the bounty a once-over, "Awfully close, ain't he? Why don't you take him in ya'selves?"

   The aging man behind the desk gave a sigh, "Well, we couldn't technically prove it was him. The piece'a shit paid off the local law and we're under a strict 'employer only' under the US guv'ment."

   Clydesdale let out an unamused snort, "Right. Anything I should know?"

   "From what 'ah hear is that he's the paranoid sort. Expect him t'have a few other bastards wit'm." The old man responded, just as Clydesdale got up to leave. The old man sighed, "Happy huntin'."

   Soon after, Clydesdale was leading a deep auburn horse out of town. It had purple reins and saddle, with a hound’s tooth pattern sheet underneath. Slipping a foot into the stirrup, Clydesdale mounted his horse. However, someone seemed to be tailing him.

   


Meanwhile…

   Kalvin King stomped around the cellar of the old church as there was a half dozen men with axes chopping up the floorboards, “Gat dammit, y’all ain’t worth what I paid for! C’mon! It’s gotta be in here somewhere! Them pinkerton sumbitches are on ON MY FUCKIN’ TAIL! SO HURRY IT THE FUCK UP!” He screeched. Kalvin was a finely dressed man, in a pastel blue velvet three-piece suit and a silver particularly puffy puffed tie. He had a finely cut goatee with long, greased back hair.

   A ragged, older man’s eyes widened, “M-mistuh King?! This whatchur lookin’ fer?” He barked, holding up an object wrapped in yellowed butcher’s paper. Kalvin snatched the package from the ragged man’s grip, opening it up. Inside was a crudely crafted crucifix, made up of what looks like wrought iron, a stag’s horn forming the cross. King gave a chuckle as he ran a thumb across the rough, porous metal. “Hwueeheeeehee! Fantastic, YOU! Big man! Get this man a beer! He’s earned it!” He cackled, making a snapping point towards the largest of his workers.  “Fuck it! Everyone gets a beer!” He declared, as everyone let out a loud cheer and Kalvin passed out cash, ten dollar bills per person.
   
   The half dozen workers filed out of the cellar, and out of the church grounds. Most mounting on their respective horses or mules. Kalvin King kept cackling as he inspected the cross, “Hwueeheeheeeheee, Mister Pierce is f’sure gonna be happy ‘bout this…” He mumbled to himself, as he stepped out of the cellar and into the church itself. As he stepped out, he caught the eyes of Clydesdale, ‘The Golden Gunslinger.’

   “Howdy.” Clydesdale said simply, “How hard d’ya want this t’be?” He growled, a hand settled on his pistol, and the other adjusting the hardee hat on his head. Kalvin held up his hands, “Not hard at all, bounty hunter…” He said calmly, as there was a whistling of wind and displacing air.

But then, there was a loud whooshing sound. Clydesdale cleared leather, worked the hammer, and fired as soon as it got near. Kalvin’s suit grew red in his calve, as he let out a loud yelp of pain. “A-AAGH! What?! You have a ‘sta-’” He snarled, as Clydesdale gave him an equally confused look. “What did I hit?” The bounty hunter wondered aloud, unintentionally interrupting his quarry.

A grin curled on Kalvin’s lips, “You can’t see it?” He asked simply, as he began to cackle. “Cut him in fucking half! ‘Bellbottoms’!” He screeched, as the displacement of air was heading towards Clydesdale. From Kalvin’s perspective, he saw a bird-like humanoid, with a golden wattle below it’s neck with a similar pattern to King’s tie. It had blades on it’s wrists, that extend to the side made up of a metallic bone-like material.


However, Kalvin heard a faint voice and another humanoid parried [Bellbottoms]’s blow, It was a skinny humanoid with a camera for a head with a small weathervane on top, with a skeletal body made up of wrought iron and with two blades extending from it’s elbows replacing its hands. Inscribed on the head of the camera is ‘Luna malum ortu’.

‘Bad Moon Rising’.

   Kalvin’s blood ran cold, “I thought-!” He stammered, before digging around in his coat for his own pistol. “Fuck! [Bellbottoms]-! Help me!” King yelled out, as his ‘Humanoid’ recalled back and towards it’s master. Clydesdale worked the hammer again, and fired.

   If I can get my [Bellbottoms] to cut this bullet. Then I can fight- no- Maybe I should run…! Kalvin’s thoughts ran wild as his ‘Humanoid’ deflected the ‘Steel Ball’ into Kalvin’s side. He let out another yelp of pain, as the spin went through his body. “N-! N-NOOO!” King hollered, as the flesh twisted around the gushing wound.

   I can still win…! I just need to cut this bastard’s throat! Kalvin went on the offensive as Clydesdale fanned the hammer, emptying the cylinder. Three missed but planted itself into his hip, “Oh-ho-hoh!” Clydesdale chuckled, as [Bad Moon Rising] blocked [Bellbottoms]’s strike once again.

   Clydesdale smirked at the bloodied and bleeding Kalvin, “Are y’done yet?” He drawled, as he holstered his pistol. “Cuz if y’are. I think I can make it back t’town b’fore you bleed out.” Kalvin King spat out some blood, before drawing his own pistol. An ornate schofield, before he felt something inside of him move. The two bullets inside him tore out through his back, before curving back under his ribs, then through his back once more, before one made it’s home inside Kalvin’s collar bone, and the other inside his throat.

Kalvin Kornelius King, user of [Bellbottoms]
Bounty: Claimed

   Clydesdale hauled the southern gentleman’s corpse to his horse, before he heard a familiar voice. “Excuse me, sir! Are you okay?!” Mashad hollered, as Clydesdale let out a groan. “God fucking- Boy what part of I cannot help you do you not understand?” He growled as he stomped over to him.

   Mashad simply stared up at him with his milky white eyes, “If I didn’t help you we wouldn’t be talking right now!” He hollered right back. Clydesdale scowled at that, “The hell do you mean by that?” He barked at him.

   Mashad glared right back, "That ‘thing’ you shot and what was making that ‘wind’. It’s a ‘spirit’ of sorts-"

   “A ‘Stand’. Some have called it, it’s hard to explain-- I don’t get it either…” He admitted, as Clydesdale rolled his eyes. “Don’t really care, t’be fair.” He said plainly, as he mounted his horse. “I’m headin’ out, come get me after I turn this sonuva bitch in. Y’earned a cut.” He continued, settling the wrapped cross into his saddlebags as he rode back to town.

Heinrik adjusted his grip on the machete as he stared at the group of zombies walking towards him. A swing and two heads rolled to the ground as he took a stride forward. A second swing and three more fell. These things were growing increasingly common as of late.

Still they had no real way to harm him, their claws scraped against metal plates and their jaws broke when they tried to bite through it. Soon they all were gone and he continued on his way. Soon he reached New Paris.

The guards had him stop outside and approached. One, the elder and most likely more experienced of the two, asked him “What is it you’re here for?”

Heinrik shrugged, he was here for a number of things, “Food, shelter, work.”


A short discussion on the expectations of his behaviour later and he walked in. The noise he was met with immediately made him stop in his tracks. The dull anger in his brain made him wonder if this endeavor called life was worth it. “Why in the name of any god is that playing over the speakers?” He asked to  no one in particular. The response was one he hadn’t quite expected. Someone quite plainly being an asshole.

“Why, who, and where?” Heinrik asked as he stood there. He got the answer to all three. From there he walked to the person who appeared to be in charge and continued “Give me a rocket launcher and I’ll take care of whatever’s playing this noise.”

It was fifteen minutes later and Heinrik, standing his full eight feet tall with a rocket launcher slung over his back, started towards the orchard. It would take him a while but he simply didn’t care. It would take however long it would take, and in the end these fine folks wouldn’t have to listen to that ‘music’.

Elsewhere Sokolov walked over the bridge and into Walkerville. His rifle was still hanging loosely in front of him as he walked to the community center and spotted someone. Walking over he said “Isaac yes? You were friend of Alexei?”

Isaac nodded and suddenly found himself staring at the man. He couldn’t really discern much beneath the helmet and mask but he said “Yes, that’s me and yes that was my friend.”

Sokolov nodded and continued “I know where large number of cultists that attacked him reside. You get revenge, I get revenge, everyone happy.”

Isaac felt the old temper flare. He knew the men that had caused that explosion were more than likely still alive and now that had been confirmed. And he somehow knew the man wasn’t lying. “Alright, but let get some help first. If they feel like coming that is.”

And with that Isaac went to find Nathaniel and present the situation to him. When he did find him he gave him what info he had, having known that there was a group after Alexei thanks to a private conversation between the two. “We could get some justice for Alexei Nathaniel, we could do something about these guys. But it’s gonna need to be more than just me and a stranger.”

Elsewhere Bolt had finished his first shift of the day and was sitting by himself. He unwrapped his sandwich and nibbled at it as he worked on one of his projects in his head. If he just had the parts to make a hydraulic system he could actually make a system to help him bend steel.

He was soon interrupted by TJ sitting down beside him. “Hi Bolt, how’re you?” TJ asked as they sat there.

Bolt finished his bite of the sandwich and said “Good. Work was annoying, too much pipe that needed cutting today. But work is not the whole day.”

TJ and Bolt sat in silence for a minute and TJ nervously asked “Hey can I uh..can I show you something?”

Bolt nodded and the two started walking. Unbenownst to the crew that had made the bridge TJ had found a small alcove under it where one could sit in peace. He’d built a small cover for the entrance to it and had dug a hole that he’d slid a cooler into in the soft dirt. A pair of fishing poles were set to the side as well.

Sitting down the pair just stared at the water for a few moments before Bolt said “Is nice and quiet down here.”

TJ shrugged “Yeah, quiet is nice I guess but I just like being able to stare at the water personally.”

Bolt had to agree that the way the water ran over the rocks under the bridge was oddly soothing. As was the presence of TJ in a strange way. Unlike everyone else he’d met TJ didn’t treat him strangely due to the markings on his fur or the way he acted. It was nice to have a-

Bolt’s thoughts were interrupted by TJ pulling out a book and asking if he’d like to learn some more. Bolt nodded and looked down at the book as TJ pointed to one of the words and helped him read it. After a moment Bolt rested his head on TJ’s shoulder as they worked on his ability to read.