Harsh Reality

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Three days.

As promised, Mal had returned, though the trip hadn’t been uneventful. Getting to the location where the pistol was had been easy enough. He knew that area like the back of his hand, well enough to know where the nests were in the area, when they were generally active, and ways to circumvent them. The Abandoned Town was his home, after all. That was one of the reasons the Eclipse and he got along so well. He knew the paths that others didn’t and could see where problems might arise before others thanks to the preternatural senses that he’d came back to consciousness with.

There were certainly days that he lamented the truth of his condition, but he couldn’t argue that there weren’t any merits to it. His agility, strength, and senses made it so much easier to survive in this world. If he didn’t need blood, he’d have considered it an upgrade.

Other than losing three quarters of a century and returning to an apocalypse scenario for the world, anyway.

Because of that, it wasn’t getting the promised gear that was the problem. The problem came from others that wanted to poach his hard work from him. The damned carrion robbers had tried to set a trap for him, or at least someone along the main road that was easily taken. Objectively, he knew it was unlikely that they’d set it up for him alone. The amount of work that had gone into it made it far more likely that they had simply decided that the location was the best thoroughfare for catching unsuspecting people and fleecing them of their things. Certainly, they’d tried it with him.

The result had been messy: two of them were dead, three others were injured. Only one had gotten away without serious wounds.

Unfortunately for Mal and his new “business partner”, that was enough. That one had gotten back to the rest of their group and set the dogs to hunting. Mal’s advantage was that he was far enough away that nothing highlighted him. It caused them to take longer to start pinpointing leads and where to go after him…but they were determined.

Malachi didn’t know that the extra day had allowed them to close the distance toward the outskirts and then fan out in an attempt to find him. All he knew is that “Scout” better damn well be on time.

Posted 09-10-2021, 05:00 PM

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Hindsight was always 20/20 and even though she had been sure to dot her I's and cross her T's... Scout had left their little business transaction perhaps a little prematurely. In all likelihood, that was how she approached life in general. First to leave the party, first to move on, gotta be one step ahead of the rest. The bottom line was there were a few questions that had went unanswered about the plan to meet up three days later. Location being one of them, it could of been assumed they would meet in the exact same spot they had tumultuously met before. Scout wished she would of changed that minor detail. Clay was of course going to be hovering overhead, now more than ever. She hadn't clued him in on the deal she had made with the drifter. He had no reason to know, and therefore she hadn't shared.

Another issue lay in the exchange.

While Mal seemed quite interested in getting inside the wall, he hadn't exactly confirmed the exchange. Plus it wasn't so easy as an object she could carry around with her and pass off. She had to make him a pass, or, if not a pass, find him a way in on the particular day he needed it. Depending on what day that was, it would reflect her options. Unsure as to those specifics, she brought with her a small handheld camera; ready to take his mugshot picture for a temporary pass. Should he decide that was what appealed to him most.

There were a lot of uncertainties. Including but not limited to the idea that had arisen in Scout's thoughts that the drifter could be setting her up. Maybe he wouldn't be alone this time. Maybe he had identified this situation as an opportunity to get back at the military. Fleece her instead.

"Heading in to clear building 429, will confirm every seven minutes." she warned Clay over their radio, letting him know if she didn't check-in, they had a problem. He wouldn't be able to watch her six from inside the building, only supervise through the broken windows. "That wasn't apart of the plan." "It is now." she retorted, going inside the building and clearing the small once-boutique on it's ground level. There, she waited for her associate.

She didn't have to wait long, Clay was first to see Mal. "It's that damn drifter again Gadsby. Traveling south up 8th, towards 429." "Alright, just keep an eye on him, he's right on time." "What?" "Just hang tight Clay, it's fine." Scout peered slightly out of the broken window front and gave a short whistle to get the man's attention, beckoning him towards the building.

Posted 09-14-2021, 10:51 AM This post was last modified: 09-14-2021, 10:52 AM by Scout Gadsby

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Malachi had had a lot of time to ponder just how he was going to use the payment that Scout was going to provide. Access inside the wall was invaluable. While he heard things, he’d always been the “trust, but verify” sort after a few years in the military. When the War on Terror kicked off, the civilian you were trying to protect was just as likely to have an explosive vest on as he was to be your supporter. He didn’t take anything at face value, especially word from inside a wall run by the most regulated and insular group in the area.

That mantra also extended to Scout herself. She’d been subtle, but she had been trying to fleece him after their little battle last time. ”Lot of gratitude, that one…” he muttered to himself as he passed along through those dead, barren streets. For all he knew, she was planning on getting two pistols out of this deal instead of one. He had a few surprises for that, not the least of which was his true nature. While he considered exposing that as a last resport, having to deal with the ambush earlier had simply not put him in the mood to be stabbed in the back right now.

Turning onto 8th, he made his way toward 429, reflexively looking up toward the building that the girl’s backup had been in previously. Some of the glass was busted…but most of that was on the lower level. At the height that the vamps had been hit the other day, there was only one whose window was busted out.

”Sloppy…” he muttered to himself, remembering the training he’d gotten more than a century ago. A sniper never used the same hide twice. Predictability was death. He doubted, however, that any of these people had the level of training on it that he’d had. At least the man wasn’t sticking the barrel out of the window and making it completely obvious.

Small mercies…

Hearing that whistle broke him out of his semi-reverie, pale eyes tilted over towards that boutique and quickly catching sight of the familiar form there. Despite the itch between his shoulder blades, he diverted toward her, feeling much better when he was inside the building itself and when there was no longer a line of sight from the building he’d identified before.

Pale lips curved up slightly as he nodded at her hiking up his pack with one hand as the other was offered to her in the universal sign of cooperation and greeting.

”Good to see you again, Great Gadsby. I hope you are ready to hold up your end of our bargain…”

Scout Gadsby

Posted 09-22-2021, 09:08 PM

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So far, so good. Scout backed further into the floor level when Mal headed towards the building. Hands resting on her rifle, she watched him closely as he entered; then offered his hand to her in greeting. Her gaze shifted down to his open palm, for a second or two, just long enough to make it clear she wasn't the most keen on shaking his hand -- she hesitated. In conclusion however, she did reach out, shaking his firmly. It made all of this feel very official, and not at all like a transaction off the black market. It was weird, strange, and misplaced; at least to Scout.

Perhaps, at the very basis of her opinion, it was just the physical contact in question. Sure, she was trained to have a firm, confidant handshake... but it wasn't a natural response. It was forced. She would rather not touch anyone at all, nor have them touch her. Physical contact was primarily saved for altercations. Fighting. So it wasn't hard to put together the connections she had, the synapses in her brain connecting the two forever more thanks to her training that began at such an early age. Non-violent contact didn't happen often, and when it did, it made her nervous. In short, she wasn't a hugger.

Putting all of that aside, whether Scout had the means to be so self-aware or not, she returned her hand to her side and nodded to the drifter. Great Gadsby. "Why are all of you drifters so damn weird?" she couldn't help herself, but it wasn't intentionally cruel, just a response to the odd nickname; and to get that across, she half smirked, brows curving in a way to make her not appear very serious. "Like what does that even mean, Great Gadsby…" If she didn't know any better, and she didn't, it sounded like a compliment... but the rocky start that had begun their interactions told her otherwise, that it was very unlikely.

As she said this, she reached into her pocket and fished out the small camera. "So, about that, temp pass, or I've got an opening in five days where you can get a ride in. Up to you." She definitely didn't know his story, didn't want to know it either. But some people were particular about their likeness being spread when it didn't have to be. The lowkey ride in would mean nobody would know he was there, but it was risky. The pass would mean he could show his face at the gate and get in and out easily, but the guards would recognize him to some extent. Of course the pass would have an expiration. What kind of coyote would she be if she handed out long-term cards and lost all her lucrative business.

"You got my piece?" she rose a brow, taking a look at her watch casually to make sure she wasn't going to give Clay a stroke.

Tag Malachi Blake

Posted 09-23-2021, 11:00 AM This post was last modified: 09-23-2021, 11:00 AM by Scout Gadsby

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His grip was firm, solid, something that didn’t seem like it could be easily gotten out of if he didn’t want her to, but he did, giving her a small nod of acknowledgement as he released the hold and looked her over. She was here. Nothing from his senses made it seem as though she was anything on the up and up. In here, her backup didn’t have a shot. Maybe there were others (he was still surreptitiously attempting to listen and scent for anything else), but so far, nothing was screaming out at him. That was unexpected in the positive sort of way.

At her question, he smirked, the corner of his hips lips quirking up a bit more as he shrugged slightly and shook his head. ”Probably nothing to you…but I happened to find a book titled that on a delve. Your name just reminded me of it.

Complete and utter bullshit, of course. He’d had to read it almost a century ago. American Literature had NOT been his thing back in high school. There were other, far more intriguing things back then, and most of them involved Melinda Martinez or Jamie Danes.

An idle thought had him wondering what happened to them? Last he’d heard, before the world went to hell, Melinda had been running for some position in the county and Jamie had popped out her fourth kid. It had been a long, long time since he’d been in the desert, back home in Sin City. Whatever happened to them, he was likely as not to ever find out. The melancholy of that thought caused the rest of his humor to wither a little on the vine.

It was a relief, then, when she went to business and fished out the camera. He pondered the options for a second, then held up his hand, one finger up. A pass would give him flexibility. It also wouldn’t allow her to pinpoint the when he wanted to cross. Sure, she’d probably flag him anyway…but maybe not. Snitches didn’t get a lot of business when it came to being a coyote. He liked his chances better if she couldn’t be prepared to have him pulled out for a “random” inspection.

He caught the glance at her watch, brow lifting. There were a lot of reasons for that. Some were good, others were less so. ”In my bag, so don’t get jumpy. You got somewhere to be?”

It was a subtle hint that he’d seen her action as he carefully unshouldered the pack and laid it down on a nearby table before unzipping it and flipping it open. Inside was everything he’d promised: holster, gun, extra mags…he’d even managed to find two boxes of bullets. This was pre-war…not the post-apocalyptic stuff you mostly had to deal with now. It was the real deal.

Nodding his head at it, he looked up at her. ”When I give my word, I deliver.”

Hopefully so would she….

Scout Gadsby

Posted 09-26-2021, 10:09 PM

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"Really? There's a book called Great Gadsby?" Ross would love that one, it'd go perfectly with his ego. she thought to herself, If he even knows how to read. Further insulting him, even if only to herself was a natural knee-jerk reaction. Of course her guardian knew how to read, but it made her feel better pretending he didn't. "What's it about?" Maybe it'd make a great ironic birthday gift, granted she would have to offer another trade in order to get Mal to go get it for her. That would mean she was getting closer and closer to being a repeat customer... which she wasn't sure she wanted to do, not yet.

Watching as he lifted his hand and held a single finger up, she tilted her head and tossed the small camera one her right to her left hand casually, assuming that meant he wanted the temporary pass. "Okay, but it's going to take a day or two more. I'll take your picture, work my magic, and have it waiting for you under the register within 48 hours. Think you can handle that?" It was going to require him to trust her, giving her the piece before she could fully offer her own trade. If he didn't want to do that, they were wasting their time, she wasn't going to meet him a third time just to hand him a card. She didn't say as much, but she had a feeling this might be a snag in the plan.

"None of your business if I do." was all she offered in regards to his question, seeing as he was watching her very closely from the sounds of it. She wasn't sure, but she wondered if she had made him nervous just now. They really didn't know each other, and with that came suspicion. If the moment was flipped, she knew she would have been a bit twitchy at it too.

As he revealed the firearm and it's components, she peered over the opened bag much like a kid would have at a new toy. She couldn't help the small grin that grew up one side of her lips. "Sure looks that way." she agreed with his self-assessment. "May I?" she questioned, reaching towards the handgun and wanting to feel it's weight in her palm.

Tag Malachi Blake

Posted 09-27-2021, 06:38 PM

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”Not quite spelled the same, but yeah, more or less. Never seen nother name like it.” At her follow on question, he ponders it for a moment, shrugging. ”A soldier meets some rich guy who has everything, but just wants to get back some girl he lost. Pretty much every one but the main character is an asshole, having affairs, arguing, and eventually getting people killed because of jealousy. I think it was supposed to be some sort of narrative on the ‘American Dream’ or some such.”

”Jesus, I still remember that damn book report that I had to do. That might have been the only time I actually got a good grade in English.” Mal mused to himself.

At her terms, he considered the options. It wasn’t hard to miss the fact that it would mean she got off with a gun and with little more than a promise to repay him. Not the best option. He preferred that all transaction trades be made at the same time, but he also understood. It wasn’t like she could have gotten it done while he was gone and the more time they spent together, the more time they were likely to catch attention. Attention was not something he wanted from anyone.

”I prefer that, honestly. Just making sure that none of your business comes randomly bursting in here and forcing me to be a part of it,” “he replied before continuing with the trade. He watched how her eyes lit up at the sight of the gun and the holster.

Her agreement with him might have been the closest thing to a compliment that he’d gotten from her during their two encounters. At her question, he nodded. ”Just don’t load it, yet. Nothing personal, just protecting business, you know?”

Malachi pushed the whole thing closer to her on the table so she could inspect it more closely and pick it up if she wanted.

Scout Gadsby

Posted 09-27-2021, 09:51 PM

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"Hm. Speaking of, since you know mine... what's your last? There's a lot of Mal's out there... and I'll need it for your card." Whether there was, or wasn't a lot of "Mal's" out there remained to be seen; Scout sure didn't know. While it was true, she did need a last name for the temporary pass card, she wasn't sure why she bothered wanting to know his real last name -- or to that end, if he would even give it to her. Drifter's were a lawless bunch, no birth certificates, nothing official to any means. He could just as easily lie to her than give her the truth. Though it meant nothing either way. A name out there in no man's land could just as easily be changed with a glimmer of thought. Hell, Mal might not of even been his real name... real was subjective.

The short synopsis of the book was tossed at her and Scout lifted a brow, "Sounds dramatic, ... just like a man." she smirked, ignoring the part about the 'American Dream' which went slightly over her head. She wasn't a historian, they didn't teach that at the military academy.

"Hey, you're gonna have to give me a little trust. I picked a spot out of my sharpshooter's gaze for your benefit, definitely not mine. So relax." That much was true, but it was mutually beneficial of course, being that she didn't want Clay to know she had picked up a new piece. She would prefer it be her little secret. The military didn't need to know everything; and unfortunately her partner was trained and true 'to the book' generally.

When he cautioned her not to load it, she tilted her head up at him, "I get that there's no where to give it a test run, but if the bird doesn't fly when I do use it... there's gonna be a big fuck you under that register and no card." she warned, having not considered he'd sell her a faulty gun, especially a vintage piece that might not be as easy to get fixed. Maybe it was good she had to return with his part of the trade, there would be time to make sure everything was on the up and up. Understandably, she realized he didn't want her to load it because he didn't want her to turn it on him and make off with it. Which was silly, when it was a given she would leave here with the gun... unless he thought she wanted his too.

Now that's just greedy.

As the equipment was scooted towards her, she picked up the gun and held it. Letting the weight settle on her palm. She turned it over, pulled back the *** and tested it's resistance, while also checking to make sure it wasn't loaded.

Wouldn't that have been a plot twist.

Satisfied, she placed it back down and glanced over the other parts. The two boxes of bullets were a nice add-on. Maybe she would surprise him with an extra six hours on his pass card. Maybe. She would think about it.

"Everything looks good." She regathered the small camera and motioned to the back wall where it was nothing but plain brick. She would have to trim out the boutique wall, then add in the military-issued blue backdrop, but that was easy enough. "If you're sure about the pass... I'll get your picture and get that going today."

Tag Malachi Blake

Posted 09-28-2021, 08:10 AM

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Mal considered not answering the question, but he came to the same conclusion that he had come to with the Eclipse: it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t like they had the kind of databases that the world used to have. There wasn’t a video camera on every street corner and people couldn’t doxx you using the internet. “Malachi Blake” meant nothing to anybody. It certainly wasn’t going to be something that anyone just found and linked him back to his old life and the old world. His name meant nothing here and now, other than something he needed to provide anyway in order to get the payment he wanted for this trade. He shrugged, then spoke. ”Blake.”

His mouth twisted up slightly at her reminder about the sharpshooter and he gave a small nod. She wasn’t wrong with that, after all. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be jumpy. He had the suspicion that she didn’t want her partner to know about this little trade either, so he doubted this really had much to do with making him feel better about things. A part of him wondered if anything she did was without a personal benefit.

Not that he could blame her that much if the answer was “no”…that’s just how the world seemed to operate these days.

Those pale eyes narrowed at her accusation and he crossed his arms over his chest. ”I don’t trade anything that doesn’t work, Gadsby. I tested and cleaned it myself. The only ‘fuck you’ that is going to be going around is whatever winds up on the business end of that when you are holding it.”

His tone was low, with contained anger. Mal was incensed at the idea that he was going to give her something that wasn’t going to fire. He slowly worked through that anger and got it down to annoyance while she looked over her prize and seemed to be content with it. She should be…he was a man of his word, after all. The piece was like new. That wasn’t exactly something common in this day and age.

Giving her another nod as she recognized that and then gestured to the wall, he moved as directed. Some of this was way, WAY too familiar. It was like going back in time a century. Swallowing, he followed her directions on how to pose to make the picture look official and then stilled.

Meanwhile, a group of others moved down the street. They looked to be on a mission and Clay caught sight of them. Her earpiece crackled. ”Head’s up, Gadsby. Got about eight headed your way from the same direction that your friend came from. They just look like trouble.”

Scout Gadsby

Posted 10-08-2021, 08:39 PM

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"Mal … Blake. Got it." she noted to herself out loud, pointedly pausing between the two names as if they didn't really go together. Hopefully Mal was short for something, and given that, she was offering him a chance; albeit silently-- to correct her. Scout couldn't put her finger on it, why the name didn't roll off her tongue … maybe they names were two short in unison. Regardless, if that's what he wanted on the pass card, that's what he would get. She wasn't here to judge. Hell, she didn't like her name either.

Speaking of insults, she realized she was treading a thin rope now as she warned him about the usefulness of the gun. He didn't seem to like that all too much, the questioning of his integrity towards the trade. The corners of her lips curved slightly upwards, finding humor in his correction about where or where not the 'fuck yous' would be found. Though smirking, she kept a close eye on him and his expression. Hoping he wasn't going to flip out on her abruptly. Scout didn't know him all that well, and her experiences had told her the drifters generally had a screw or two loose. "Good, that's just what I ordered." was all she replied with, turning her attention to the gun for the rest of it's inspection … or rather, appreciation.

As they moved on to the photo, she verbally explained how to stand. With his body tilted slightly to the right, face forward, she nodded when he was in the correct pose. "Alright, smile! Just kidding, don't smile." Not that she thought he would even if she had been serious. Inwardly she cringed at herself for the lame ass joke. That wasn't like her. Maybe getting a new gun had put her in a good mood... but she had seemed to shake the complete grouch she normally was; even if for only the moment.

Focusing the lens at the correct depth of field, then honing in the zoom to crop the image at the official length in-camera, Scout then released the shutter with an audible click. There was the smallest flash of light, nothing too over powered, but enough to highlight his features so that any military at the gates wouldn't question the authenticity.

It was right after the portrait was made that Clay interrupted.

Her expression fell from light and airy, to the resting bitch face everyone knew to be synonymous with Scout. Placing the camera back into it's protective bag with care, slowly, with a rising temper of her own flaring on her expression. "You know, I'm getting real sick of you bringing along company every time I meet you." she muttered at the drifter, then moved back towards her new gun and began moving more quickly now. Loading it. Even though that had been against his wishes earlier.

"There's eight, following your trail from the south." Having finished with the gun and applying the holster, she gathered the extra accessories and tossed them behind the counter of the cash register to retrieve later. "Infected?" she questioned over the radio to Clay, "They look like the drifter variety." "Oh, this'll be fun. Who'd you piss off?" she glared back at Mal before heading to the corner of the cracked window and sneaking a small peak. "Guess we've got a few "fuck you's" to pass out."

Scout kinda hoped they would just pass them right on by. "Let's wait and see." she proposed to Clay, calling for radio silence until otherwise noted.

Posted 10-12-2021, 01:08 PM

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Malachi didn’t miss the pause she gave after trying out his name. Arching a brow, he looked at her, then considered that it might be good for the pass she was going to be giving him. Supposedly giving him, anyway. With a sigh, he shrugged, ”Malachi Blake.”

She seemed a bit more pleased at his indignation that the insinuation caused. Logically, he knew that it probably gave her some faith that the weapon was on the up and up. Which it was, of course. However, even he had his moments and couldn’t fully keep his cool, so there was a small undercurrent of ire that simmered low in him at the very idea that he wasn’t going to honor a deal. Still, he worked to swallow that down and focus on the trade since that was what they were here for.

Punk-ass military. Acting like you weren’t the one that tried to give me a subtle shakedown last time… he mentally grumbled to himself before he finally followed up with her instructions and positioned himself just as she wanted him to. This was familiar enough. It reminded him of every time he had to get his photo taken for some dumbass promotion board. Her mood had turned to something that was surprisingly playful. Her comedic ability was terrible, but it was so completely terrible that he couldn’t help but crack a grin. This was a wholly different side of the military girl that he honestly hadn’t expected to see.

Truth be told, he was close enough to catch some of what Clay said, sensitive ears picking it up through the earpiece she wore. His brows rose, however, at her accusation. ”Yeah, because I brought along the leeches. They showed up from the way you’d been traveling from. It’s not my fault you take pictures better than you patrol.”

He returned fire verbally even as he checked his own weapons to make sure they were sufficiently loaded and ready to go to work. At her words, his mouth thinned into an unhappy line. She’d turned away and gotten farther as she moved back to the table, so he hadn’t heard what was said after that, but the words she said were clear enough. It didn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out who might have tagged along behind him. Letting out a low, thankfully human growl, he shook his head and moved up to the door so he could peek out down the way he had come from. There wasn’t anything that he could see yet, but the angle of the window meant he couldn’t look directly down it.

He'd give her some credit, she wasn’t trying to OK Corral this thing. ”Had some raiders try to shake me down and take what they wanted after I’d gone back to find your sidearm there. They didn’t ask nicely and my reply was even less nice.”

Scout Gadsby

Posted 10-13-2021, 10:09 PM

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Scout smirked as he offered her his full name. There it was, just as she had predicted. Mal was short for something, and that something was actually kinda nice. Malachi wasn't something you heard every day. It had a nice ring. "That's better." She noted quietly, committing the name to memory. "You gonna get mad if I use it instead?" she asked, referring to his full first name. Did she care if he got mad? Not really. Was she going to use it regardless? Of course.

As cringeworthy as it had felt, her little joke seemed to amuse; if even only for a moment. Catching the grin that was on his expression, it lessened the embarrassment, if only slightly. Tone it down Gadsby, tone it down. she thought to herself, trying to shake this giddy mood she was in. Blaming the new gun entirely and perhaps too non-self-aware to realize it was anything more than that.

"Oh you wanna do this?" she cocked her head, giving him a stare that said 'let's go', but still in that slightly very slightly playful mood; in that she was even entertaining the 'argument' at all. "Let me remind you they would have never gotten the jump on us had you not showed up and tried to stuff me in a phone booth, which was just... weird" she made a face, wrinkling her nose. "Also, that hurts." she tacked on, responding to the last comment about her patrolling skills. It was entirely untrue, and she had many years under her belt that proved it -- was she going to take the bait thought? Absolutely not. Which was why she only mockingly faked insult.

Clay confirmed that he would lay in wait, maybe they'd get lucky and the group would just walk right on by. At Mal explaining they were raiders, Scout silently groaned. They were worse than drifters. Less morality, more stupidity, but heaps more greed. She couldn't help but wonder if what he considered 'nice' was what she had done three days prior. Almost commenting on it, she decided not to speak anymore than was necessary. They were closing the gap to the point she could hear their shoes scuffing what was left of the sidewalk concrete.

They'll just keep coming then. she thought to herself. If Mal had pissed them off badly enough, they would hunt him to the ends of the earth and if his primary haunt was sector 23, that was going to be an issue. Still. She waited.

Outside of the building Clay kept his target laser pin-pointed on the closest raider outside of Scout and Mal's position. He was ready to fire the second things got dicey, but unfortunately for him, he was the catalyst. The second raider that was behind the targeted first, pecked his buddy on the shoulder and then nodded towards the direction that Clay was stationed. He saw the little red dot and put two and two together. As soon as that was communicated, the second raider quickly let off three rounds in Clay's direction; making his location.

"Shit." Scout grumbled, poking her head out of the window and letting off two rounds that hit the first raider that was closest to them. It was unclear to her how they located Clay, but she couldn't let her partner take all of the heat.

Posted 10-17-2021, 10:07 PM

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She seemed to approve of his name. Mal wasn’t certain what to make of that, but he shrugged at her question before shaking his head. Not a whole lot of “Mal’s” that weren’t short for something else. Well, he was pretty sure there weren’t a lot of Mal’s period, but that was something entirely different. ”Shooter’s preference. You’re the one that know what looks legit on the pass.”

As the news of what was coming devolved and she wanted to start passing the blame, he shook his head again. She certainly liked to push buttons, but for some reason, he liked to push hers too. ”Maybe, maybe not, but they would have gotten the jump on someone, so lucky for your people and you are welcome again for saving you. At least the phone booth would have just given me time to get away. You’d have rather I shot you?”

The girl was good at dishing things out, but it didn’t seem like she could always take it all that well if her last statement was anything to go by.

Finding some cover near her and out of sight from the main doors, Malachi hunkered down to wait. That group had to have gotten lucky. There’s no way they’d be able to follow him all the way in here. With sniper overwatch, they had the advantage. All they had to do was walk on by. There was zero reason for that group to come walking in here. He peaked out around the edge of the window just to get his own view of them and he immediately began to swear internally.

What kind of goddamn chickenshit rookie dumbass motherfucking boot of a goddamn sniper puts a motherfucking laser on motherfucking sniper rifle? He caught sight of that dot when movement forced Clay to sift and it rode up high enough on his target’s shoulder that it caught Mal’s eye. The worst came true when that laser was picked up by one of the raiders and they started firing shots up toward the hide site.

He heard her invective and he moved around the side of the entryway he’d been hiding behind. That pistol cleared holster and he put a few rounds downrange toward the one that had caught sight of the laser and the one that had been marked. The first caught a pair of shots dead center in the chest when he turned to react to Scout’s attack. The other dove for the protection of mass of steel newspaper containers. The bullets only hit him in the arm and grazed his side.

Soon enough they had fire coming back their way as three fired into the building they were in and one fired up at the hide sight. The last was using the gun battle as cover for running towards Clay’s position to try and flank him from inside the building.

Scout Gadsby

Posted 10-18-2021, 10:01 PM

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Scout smirked both to him and to herself, then nodded at his reaction. She had a feeling he had misunderstood what she was referring to. When asking if he would get mad at her use of his full first name, she hadn't exactly meant in the context of the pass only; but between them, on a personal level. That was fine, and she made no notion of correcting the would-be issue. It would come up sooner or later, she had a feeling she would use his services again. Only time would tell if he disliked 'Malachi' versus 'Mal'; again, she didn't and wouldn't care.

"Oh I'm welcome?" Scout tilted her head down, making her glare and obvious disbelief a little more impressionable. "Don't forget who actually killed the Reaper. So you're welcome. And let's not kid ourselves, you could have never shot me." Why that was, remained to be explained, but the way Scout carried herself, it could have been assumed the reason he couldn't have shot her was that she was too agile, or too quick, or that she was somehow too clever to be shot at, at all. She didn't divulge the details however, she did punctuate her statement with a sarcastic smile that was quickly dropped; further exemplifying her agitation.

As much as she was enjoying the banter, she had bigger fish to fry.

And more importantly, all hell had broken loose.

Her first target went down quickly, taking two shots, one to the stomach and the other quickly realigned for the head. He was closest, but now from her view point she caught a glance of one making a beeline straight down the catty-corner towards Clay's building. "You got one coming for ya." Scout sent over the radio, dunking behind the solid brick wall and changing to her rifle.

She had to make a decision quickly and in order of priority. The next raider was practically right outside the window and there was one next to him too. But the one going for Clay was directly in his blind spot, he could easily dunk inside the building if she let him get too far; then taking him out would be all on her partner. Deciding she had to take out the closest first, she popped just out of the window and fired; hitting the raider twice in the chest -- but the one next to him got off a few rounds at the exact same time. She felt the bullet whizz by and clip the wooden display behind her. "That's not nice." she muttered to herself, gritting her teeth and feeling her heart race.

The one that shot at her now positioned himself up against the wall, making her line of sight that much harder. However, he did clear the way for the runaway going towards Clay. She lifted her rifle and aimed, but the raider against the window dunked back out and shot again; barely missing her for the second time. "Fuck! Mal, get the runaway!" She hoped he would hear her and have a better angle. "Clay watch it!" she tried to warn again over the radio.

Posted 10-20-2021, 09:38 PM

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”I don’t know, it’s getting easier to shoot you all the time.” Came his reply, a backhanded indication that her smart mouth was going to get her into trouble if she kept it up. He was quickly beginning to realize that the girl seemed to remember things how she wanted them to be, regardless of what the actual truth was. ”Next time I’ll just let it land on you so you can show me how you’d have killed it then.”

It was a good thing that there were still stands and shelves in this shop; if not, Malachi realized that the one he’d lost sight of around the door and behind the newspaper stand would have had a good line of sight on Scout. As it was, he could tell there wasn’t line of sight, but that didn’t keep the man from firing around the stand into the doorway without looking. The bullets passed inbetween the both of them…a real waste of ammunition that would have been appalling to him if it hadn’t meant he was going to have more of a breather when the idiot ran out of bullets and had to reload. Until then, however, he kept himself up against the wall to ensure there was no chance that bullet would angle in his way.

A glance around the corner caught sight of two heading for the sniper’s building now. One had almost crossed the street completely and gotten onto the sidewalk and the other was now halfway there. They weren’t the most pressing problem, of course, since he caught a glimpse of them over the shoulder of one that was far closer, the barrel of his rifle flashing as he pumped rounds into their building to shatter glass and splinter wood.

Dropping to a knee, Mal came around the brick edge of the door. His weapon in hand, he pulled the trigger twice, causing blood to gout from the wounds that opened up just below the man’s collarbone and the more grievous wound that took a chunk out of the man’s throat and dropped him there in shock as his life’s blood began pumping out of him.

Despite the ringing in his ears from the shots, he was canting his head toward the door, trying to keep a beeline on where the one that was outside between the door and the window nearest him were. He blinked however at her demand, glancing out the door and catching sight of the one that was nearly across the street, perfectly framed by the door. It had to be more than forty yards if it was an inch…not the best range for a pistol by far. Doable, but there were reasons you used a rifle as a primary, not a pistol.

Swearing, he pops up, locking his muscles tight in a way that no man could do as he stills himself, aiming down the sights and pulling the trigger, sighted out between the shoulder blades of the man that had just leapt onto the far sidewalk and was about to make his way into the building. That momentum was added to as the bullet caught him in his spine and his forward momentum was driven down as the man’s control over it was lost. He tumbled into a heap, thumping against the door that the raider had been going for while the gun went clattering away.

From the corner of his left eye he caught movement. The other had come around, sighting him through the window. Malachi twisted with preternatural speed, the sound of glass shattering as he pulled the trigger. The man went down and Mal took a step back from the recoil on the gun.

”Sneaky little shit,” he thought to himself. He looked to his gun then. The recoil seemed excessive there and he was concerned that something had happened…but it seemed fine. It was then that he notice a splash of red against his side through his open jacket. Pulling it open, found the hole in his shirt where the bullet had punched through. As though seeing it made it real, he finally felt the pain for the first time and it caused him to stumble back a few more feet and then drop to a knee before he slumped against the nearest shelf due to the wound.

Fuck…

Scout Gadsby

Posted 10-23-2021, 10:00 PM

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