No Real Soldier

No Content Restrictions

While the Junkyard and its denizens might be Mal’s primary customers, they were hardly the only ones. Over the years, he’d expanded his movement to include the outskirts of Stronghold itself, though he had never been inside. There were other drifters there, like him, and they had needs as well. He’d even bartered with some of the patrols now and again in exchange for information about the city itself and unmolested passage.

Most of them he didn’t like. They weren’t real military. The whole damn organization reeked more of an organized crime syndicate than a branch of service. He’d seen them shake down those trying to survive on the outskirts, claiming it was payment for their protection. They were little more than the thugs that had been scrambling for power in Vegas back when he was a child…or the petty despots that he’d spent most of his adult life trying to help overthrow. The thought of it made his gums itch; he had to put it out of his head before he got himself worked up and scared the locals.

Shaking his head, he grunted, pulling the strap of his pack so that it rode higher on his back as he made his way through the worn metal giants that rose around him. He couldn’t help but remember what it had been like before, when a place like this teemed with activity and everything had seemed so…well, normal. Blue eyes scanned around him, his head cocking to the side just slightly as he heard the subtle sound of a boot scuffing against the dirt and concrete around the corner.

Mal’s free hand came down, resting upon the pistol at his hip, feeling the cool metal and plastic beneath his palm. His nostrils flared, trying to draw in a scent, but the currents of the air weren’t blowing it this way, not yet. Despite his size, his footsteps moved with a light, predatory grace as he moved toward the side of a building and the shadowed shelter of an entrance awning. The shoulder of his worn leather jacket brushed against the brick facing as he rested there, glancing around the corner just in time to catch the flash of movement.

Drifter? Military? Infected?

He didn’t know, but the soft whisper of metal on leather was heard as he cleared the weapon from its holster. Until he did know, he wasn’t about to take chances. Carefully, he eyed around the edge once more, still save for the slight twitch of a few loose strands of his hair as the wind curled around the edge of the building from the opposite side.

Posted 08-29-2021, 09:14 PM This post was last modified: 08-30-2021, 05:46 PM by Malachi Blake

No Content Restrictions

"... and what do we have here." A voice mumbled well below her breath, quietly to herself as she peered over the scope of her assault rife. At the end of the barrel was the Easter egg she had been after. An infected stumbled around near the edge of the street. It was scrawny, skin and bones, with only half a shirt covering part of the upper chest and featuring several protruding ribs. It appeared hungry, as they often did. Gargling and snarling it's way towards an alley between dilapidated buildings.

Scout stopped short. Hunkered down against what was left of a broken down vehicle she trained her scope on the back of the creatures head. Finger hovering over the trigger, it would of been quick, effortless to release a bullet into the brain and drop the Infected to the concrete; but she paused. Shifting the rifle to her side, she reached and withdrew a hunting knife. Pinching the blade between her index and thumb, staying clear of the sharp edge itself, she stood just long enough to throw it.

The blade pierced the back of the head, almost effortlessly as the infected sunk to it's knees, then face planted into the sidewalk. Scout cracked a half-smirk, quick and quiet was always better.

Taking a glance of her surroundings, she was confident she was alone, having killed off the only company. She then moved towards the body and loomed over it a moment before lowering herself into a squat and yanking her knife out of it's head. She grabbed it by what was left of it's shirt and turned it over. There she used the edge of her knife to pry it's mouth open, taking a good look at the fangs. A pair of lateral incisors peaked back at her, sharp and elongated.

It was nothing but a hunter, which made sense given it's lack of buddies or friends. Confirming this and glad to know it was most likely alone, she stood back up, wiping the blade of her knife on her thigh and re-holstering it. Glancing around again out of pure habit, she brought her radio up to her mouth and called it in. "This is Sierra Papa 23, got a hunter kissing the pavement. No issues. Over." The radio hissed back, another on the other end confirmed the kill and Scout shifted her rifle back into her grip.

Another day, another dollar.

Tag Malachi Blake

Posted 08-29-2021, 11:26 PM This post was last modified: 08-29-2021, 11:27 PM by Scout Gadsby

No Content Restrictions

Once he got a better look, it was clear that the individual that caught his attention was not human. The shirt wasn’t a set of fatigues, but just tattered and dirty. Those movements had the edgy, vicious movements of a hungry animal, its snarls finally reaching his ears as it paused and sniffed at the air, looking for a meal.

Malachi’s lips paled as he pressed them into a thin line. The last thing he wanted to do was tangle with one of them around here. He wasn’t worried about being able to kill it. The thing looked to be on the last of its legs anyway with just how emaciated it was. The problem was that it could bring more down on his head, or worse yet, a survivor might see and he did not want to risk anyone catching sight of him if he lost control during the battle. He had a few contacts here and the last thing he wanted was to burn bridges there. Even during the end of the world, word could spread.

Licking his lips, he lowered the gun, preparing to slide it back into its holster when the sight of more movement caught his attention. He stilled then, like a statue, not even breathing as he focused on what caught his attention now. He caught dark hair and pale skin as the woman crouched behind that rusted out sedan, light glinting for a moment from the sun as it hit the lens of her sights while she brought it into position.

She was clearly not infected and, from her movements, clearly combat trained. The wind shifted again in the bones of the city block, kicking the fresh scent of her his way. He stared at her, swallowing down the Hunger that rose up and slicked the back of his tongue with need. His gums itched as he forced himself to calm. That need was, thankfully, pushed aside by curiosity as she seemed to reconsider her actions and drew out the blade instead, launching it at the creature and bringing it down.

”Huh…” He grunted to himself, marginally impressed. That wasn’t a minor skill, but flashier than he preferred. If she’d missed, then she’d still have a pissed off infected to deal with and no knife. He shook his head, grumbling to himself. Granted, it wasn’t the smartest thing in the world to be running around on your own as a simple, vanilla human without someone to watch your back when hunting something with preternatural speed and agility.

”Amateur.”

He slide back, out of view, when she looked around, and only glanced back around the edge of the wall when he heard the sound of her boots scuffing on the pavement, watching as she moved over to her kill and inspected it. Once she had crouched down and was looking it over, he moved two doors closer, as silently as a great cat, taking cover near her as she stood up. The squawk of the radio breaking squelch and her update was heard, the response crackling back.

Stepping out from cover, Malachi lifted his pistol as he spread his legs into a standard shooter’s stance, leaning into it aggressively as he bore the pistol down upon her from the side. His thumb slid the hammer back, that tell-tale click of it locking into place echoing with finality in the quiet of the street.

”What a surprise. Some of that ‘protection’ that the Military keeps shaking people down for actually goes toward protection occasionally. Who knew?”

Posted 08-30-2021, 10:26 AM This post was last modified: 08-30-2021, 05:48 PM by Malachi Blake

No Content Restrictions

Taking one last look at the dead, she rose a brow in thought of making it on the board for the day. Her sector wasn't known to give out as many opportunities, but it had some action from time to time. Scout was midway to deciding to check the Infected's pockets when she heard a familiar click near her ear. She stood deathly still, the only thing that moved were her green eyes, bouncing to the side of her vision and catching the owner of the click in her peripheral.

She sighed heavily enough to make it clear she was annoyed.

"You've got balls. Congratulations. Do you also have a death wish?" Slowly, she pivoted, only turning her head enough to get a better look at the man threatening her with a pistol. The grip on her rifle remained unchanged. He was clearly a drifter. They all had that same look; disheveled, and in need of a shower. Long locks of the lightest shade of blond she had ever seen framed his face, which was different. Clothes that looked well worn, and dirty hands, no doubt a survivor but she wasn't feeling up to paying compliments.

"Lemme get this straight, you one of those that think living near our walls ought to be free? I'm not mowing lawns for charity here." What a way to look a gift horse in the mouth. As far as Scout was concerned, these drifters thought they should live under the protection of Stronghold without paying the piper and doing their duty as a citizen of the city. What a load of horse shit. She thought to herself, the nerve. The people on the outside were out for themselves, they had no want to be apart of the community, and if they did, they'd go through the proper channels. Proper illegal channels, which she was quite fond of and had a knack for.

Then you had these types. Poking their noses around the wall and thinking it shouldn't have a consequence. "So what's your plan, we gonna stand here and work on our tans?"

Tag Malachi Blake

Posted 08-30-2021, 06:23 PM This post was last modified: 08-30-2021, 06:24 PM by Scout Gadsby

No Content Restrictions

That sigh caused the corner of his mouth to curl up slightly, macabre amusement curling in his chest at the annoyance that was emoted through that simple sound.

”Hardly, that’s why you’re in my sights instead of the other way around. Not looking to pay a toll when I’m just passing through.” His voice was rough, like rocks sliding against one another. It was almost as though his vocal cords was out of practice.

The girl was a bit too close to where some of his regulars had staked out squatters rights. He couldn’t exactly go to them so long as she was in the area. There was no telling whether or not she knew of their location. A finder he might be, but he wasn’t about to help her find someone new to shake down for money. At her notion, he snorted. ”I’m well aware that everything has a price, but there’s a whole lot more collecting going on than there is protecting.”

Those pale, icy blue eyes regarded her for a long, long moment as he let the silence spread between them after her question as though he was considering it. Finally, he broke the silence and gestured with a lift of his chin toward her weapon. ”The plan is that you drop your weapons, nice and slow, then head on over to that phone booth and close yourself inside. Once I’m on my way and away from any urge you have to sell me some protection, you can collect your things. Then we can forget each other ever existed.”

Tag: Scout Gadsby

Posted 08-30-2021, 07:04 PM

No Content Restrictions

"Oh, is that all?" Scout shifted her weight very slowly, practically invisibly to her leg that was most pointed in the man's direction. "Doesn't quite make sense." her head tilted, again, not making any visible movements that would indicate she was about to attack him. Scout didn't know who this guy was, he wasn't a drifter she was familiar with, nor had any business dealings. Perhaps he was trigger happy, maybe he would shoot first and figure it out later. As confident as she appeared, she knew lighting the wrong fuse might get her killed.

Head slightly tilted she narrowed her eyes at him, "Why'd you give up your position and confront me if you were just passing through. You could of slid away, it wasn't like I caught you, I'll admit it." … even if it hurt her pride just a bit in the process, the bottom line was she was minding her own business. Clearing the streets outside the walls, as she was meant to do, as she was paid to do from either side of the border. "Enlighten me."

Scout had a reason for chatting this fellow up. It was unlike her to be so verbal unless the necessity was there... and it was. While her eyes were locked in with the drifters, in her peripheral she waited patiently to see a familiar little red laser dot appear; mostly likely on his forehead. It would signify the watchers that often kept an eye on the patrols below were finally aware of the situation.

However, there was no laser. Not yet.

Scout stared back at him, letting a little silence depart between his last sentence and her response. Stalling, but also, picking her words carefully. She half-smirked, then clicked her tongue to the side of her lips. "I don't think that's gonna work for me. I'm sorta claustrophobic..." She wasn't. "What's to stop you from taking my weapons and pawning them off at the next drifter camp? … yeah I think, we need a new plan..."

Come on, Clay, where the hell are you? she thought to herself, getting impatient and reminding herself why she hated teams, or anything that even fashioned itself 'team-like'. They were unreliable as hell. "How about I let you walk away, and I'll take an 'I Owe You'. You can pay me the next time I see ya." she winked for good flirty measure.

It was so unlike her in every way imaginable.

Tag Malachi Blake

Posted 08-31-2021, 10:31 AM This post was last modified: 08-31-2021, 10:32 AM by Scout Gadsby

No Content Restrictions

”Makes perfect sense. Entryways are barricaded. No idea which way you’d go…just as readily walk down into me and my cover as you would to walk the other way. I’m not a fan of getting cornered with nowhere to go.” He rolled the shoulder of his non-dominant right arm slightly. ”Ergo…I decided the best defense is a good offense. Keeps my options open.”

His tone was dry and he spoke each word with careful exactitude, as though he was explaining something simple to a child.

Malachi caught the slight lift of her lips at the mention of her being claustrophobic. At the wink she gave him, his brows rose. Back when the world had been simpler and had made sense, he’d spent the lion’s share of his military career working with indigenous peoples, many of whom seemed to be the basis for the phrase “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Few of them could be trusted, lest you wind up with a knife in the back or an improvised explosive device underneath your vehicle. He’d gotten plenty of opportunity to tune his bullshit meter. Now, however, it sometimes seemed to be on a whole new level. When you could actually catch every little micro gesture, hear the speeding up of their heartbeat, and even smell the stress sweat, well, it wasn’t even fair.

Nothing about what she was saying smelled right…but she also wasn’t trying to talk herself out of this as quickly as she should be either…why? His eyes narrowed a bit and he shook his head, flashing a wry smirk. ”I’ve spent a lot of time in shitty places dealing with shitty people, kid…but you might take the cake for being the worst liar I’ve ever heard. Don’t quit your day job.”

It dawned on him that she might not be alone after all. What were the chances that she actually had backup coming? Just when that thought hit him, he saw movement behind her. Unfortunately for them both, things might have been better if it had been her backup. Instead…it was a small pack ferals drawn out by the sound of voices carrying on the wind.

Unhelpfully and unspecific, Clay’s voice crackled on Scout’s earpiece. ”Head’s up, Gadsby. You’ve got company.”

Tag: Scout Gadsby

Posted 08-31-2021, 09:13 PM

No Content Restrictions

Carefully Scout shrugged her shoulders. Maybe it made sense to him, but it didn't to her. There was always up in her opinion, which was coming from someone that would rather climb overhead, than walk the streets. Unfortunately for her, the job didn't call for all of that. She kept her mouth shut, he didn't exactly look like the type to go jumping from building to building, or at least not quietly based purely on his physical build.

She didn't appreciate his tone though, not one bit. Hinting that he thought her inexperienced in some form or fashion. There was no sense in championing a position one way or another when your opponent was clearly coming in with preconceived notions that could not and would not be altered. It wouldn't be the first time she had heard that tone, and it most certainly wouldn't be the last.

She caught his smirk, which was followed by a shake of his head. Her expression remained unchanged, even if internally she was narrowing her eyes and ready to lunge at him with her knife. "You know only if I could do my day job without fans pulling me off to the side of the road and holding me at gun point... she couldn't help it, she rolled her eyes at that point. Being social was disgustingly exhausting.

And Clay was going to get his ears boxed next time she saw him. She had already put him on her list. Her impatience was beginning to show, as she started to come to a realization she was going to have to improvise if she wanted to leave this situation with all of her weapons intact.

It was then she caught the change of her foe's attention, from her to something behind her. She almost took the opportunity to attack him, or at the very least, disarm him in that brief second he was distracted. Clay came alive on her radio, and Scout turned on her heel away from the drifter to see the ferals heading their way. "Fuck." she grumbled into her radio, "Where the hell are you Clay?! There's been a situation down here for half-a-fucking-hour." Perhaps an exaggeration, but it felt accurate.

At this point the jig was up. "This is your fault." she tossed a side eye at the drifter before she set herself up behind the vehicle she was near originally, lifting her rifle and taking several shots. She downed one, then a second. "That's three." she muttered to herself like it were some sort of tradition.

Tag Malachi Blake

Posted 09-01-2021, 09:12 AM This post was last modified: 09-01-2021, 09:13 AM by Scout Gadsby

No Content Restrictions

Now he was able to see a glimpse of the real her with that roll of her eye and the exasperation that was exuded from her. Much better. He could work with someone if he knew where they were coming from. Honesty was a refreshing change of pace…even if it was one way.

There were simply too many things that had to remain quiet and hidden for him…things she just didn’t need to know. It was better for her.

Then Murphy was on the field and the situation became glaringly simple: the enemy of my enemy is my friend. He could feasibly reason with the woman before him. That simply wasn’t going to happen with a pack of ferals. The barrel of his gun lifted from her as he slid to the left, covering the side that she was exposing as she turned. As soon as he had a clear line of sight, he braced and pulled the trigger, sending a .45 caliber round into the brain pan of one that had been partially blocked from her line of sight due to where she was set up behind the vehicle.

Malachi didn’t respond to her barb. He didn’t have time for it. The mission right now was survival and, as much as he might not trust the woman next to him, he certainly didn’t want to see her dead either. Another tried to jerk into cover, his bullet hitting its shoulder and spinning it around to slam onto the ground. He followed it down with the sights of his pistol, punching another bullet into the back of its head before it could push itself back up and let that healing factor kick in.

Slavering, the ferals pressed on despite the losses of their fellows and he let his gun report again, punching into two more that were still lunging closer. One of them was suddenly lifted off of its feet sideways as a gout of brain and blood was chucked out of the side of its skull. Her backup had, finally, decided to get involved. The last pair were still going toward the scent of fresh meat, bee lining toward her, but he was certain she’d be able to take them down from her position.

That was when he heard the soft whisper of flesh on concrete, incongruous to what he and the woman were doing. That sharp hearing brought his head up to look for the source. It was then that he saw the reaper there, crouched upon a balcony railing on the second floor behind them and preparing to leap down upon her.

Instinctually, Malachi launched himself toward her, bodily checking her and tackling her to the side as the creature came down, pouncing on the location she’d just been. His arm and then his shoulder hit the asphalt heavily as he rolled, trying to take the brunt of the landing himself and letting his own body cushion her instead of crushing her beneath his bulk.

Tag: Scout Gadsby

Posted 09-01-2021, 02:49 PM

No Content Restrictions

In the back of her mind she counted the Drifter's downs too. Four. Though it didn't matter that he had one extra over on her (maybe it did), she had a habit of keeping tabs on the number of Infected. Sometimes it came in handy, especially when working to take out a hoard of the more intelligent levels. If one disappeared, and the count wasn't right, she knew to keep her head on a swivel a while longer.

As far as she could tell, the last two were hers. The first came out ahead, having no strategy, just a mindless hungry drone heading for it's 'honey'. She sunk a bullet in his neck, then a second between his eyes. "Four." They were tied. Not that it mattered.

"Bout time." she commented to herself about Clay. Noting a shot from above in an adjoining building.

The second of the pair and the last of the small herd didn't even seem to notice it's companion had bit the concrete. It barreled forwards, and Scout took an extra half a second to line up her shot a little more precisely. This one didn't miss. Though the infected's momentum allowed it to lurch closer than she would of liked, it too collapsed on the street.

"Five." She noted with a smirk, unaware to what was looming above her. Soon after her noting her total she felt the Drifter slam into her side. Oh, so that's how it is. she thought, thinking he was attacking her now that the common enemy had been neutralized. She struggled, trying to stop them from tumbling and not realizing her shift in body weight to get the upper hand had been way too easy. Primarily because the Drifter had turned in order to take the brunt of the impact.

The sudden appearance of the Reaper coming down to the ground, the same piece of asphalt she had been on, came into her peripheral and she became aware of her mistake in judgement. Pressed up against him, she saw the outline of another gun, hidden just beneath his shirt. She didn't have time to ask permission, not that she would have, but quickly reached in to grab it. With quick reflexes she unloaded it into the Reaper, one shot having gone up through the chin and into it's brain from their lower advantage. For good measure the last four rounds were emptied until there was an audible click.

After a second, she stood up, holding the Glock in her palm and giving it a once over, before she looked down at the Drifter. "Thanks... I guess." the words felt weird on her lips.

Tag Malachi Blake

Posted 09-01-2021, 07:43 PM This post was last modified: 09-01-2021, 07:57 PM by Scout Gadsby

No Content Restrictions

Even with the ring from the gunshots in his ears, he could still hear the sound of her counting. Why? He didn’t know. This wasn’t some game and there certainly wasn’t some referee keeping score. No one was getting a participation trophy. If he hadn’t been busy trying to make sure they didn’t get overrun, he would have questioned it…but for now he filed it away as they kept gunning down the rabid ferals making a kamikaze run toward them both.

Even he was happy when that sniper finally managed to take one down. Of course, he also paid attention to the approximate direction the shot came from. “Enemy of my enemy” was generally only valid so long as the common enemy was still around.

He wasn’t expecting her hands to be roaming all over him while they were on the ground. Malachi was trying to bring his pistol up and into the fight, but the way they landed was awkward and it was half pinned by his side and her body. Not good as he looked back and craned his head, seeing the creature turning toward them and preparing for the much shorter jump to close the distance between them with finality this time. He was about to just throw her off of him when she got her hand up under his shirt and pulled out his backup piece.

Gritting his teeth, he listened to her blow through the couple of rounds that he had. The results were satisfactory, even if they weren’t efficient. He’d been dead with the first bullet. That being said, he decided it best not to go and critique her trigger discipline at this time. Instead, as she stood up, he sat up, pulling his knees up and resting his arm along them as he looked at her. From here, he was certain that her partner couldn’t get a bead on him.

Pale eyes regarded her for a long moment, weighing his options while she looked over the gun. Finally, at her thanks, he gave her a small nod of his head before pushing himself up with the hand not holding his other gun. Sliding it back into the holster at his hip, he wiped his hands together and caught her gaze. ”Don’t mention it,” he gave her a ghost of a smile then as well before holding out his hand, palm up.

Tag: Scout Gadsby

Posted 09-04-2021, 02:02 PM This post was last modified: 09-04-2021, 02:03 PM by Malachi Blake

No Content Restrictions

I won't again.

she though in response, but didn't open her mouth. Looking back at the piece that had been hidden away under his shirt, she peripherally noted when he stood up and holstered his other weapon. It seemed he was calling some sort of truce. Which was fine, except Scout wasn't quite sure if she was. Looking from the smaller hand gun to his open palm, it was quite clear he expected her to hand it back. She lulled a bit. Looking at his hand and then back at the gun, a small side-smirk pulling up one end of her lips.

The gun was empty of bullets, that much she knew. So there really was no security reason as to why she shouldn't hand it back to him, and yet she still paused. It wasn't a bad sidearm, she had almost already grown a little attached. Scout knew what she wanted to do, but there was a very high chance it would undo what small thread their truce (maybe) was hanging by.

She wondered... was Clay still paying attention?

Almost as if reading her mind, he crackled back into her ear piece. "We still got a problem, or is that cleaned up Gadsby?" "Standby." she replied, then looked up at the drifter. "You know, if I wanted to prove you right, I might take this as a momento. It would satisfy the toll..." she lifted her brow, as if she were thinking it over, pushed her lips to one side and squinted as if in thought.

"Instead I'll ask you what you'd take for it?"

Posted 09-04-2021, 07:36 PM This post was last modified: 09-04-2021, 07:37 PM by Scout Gadsby

No Content Restrictions

This was a risk. Standing up put him in the line of fire again and he knew all too well that the location that the sniper had shot from was behind him. He could all but feel the crosshairs burning the spot between his shoulder blades. That was probably just his mind playing tricks on him, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t making him itch and feel antsy regardless. Swallowing down the anxiety and letting out a slow breath to keep calm, he watched her as she drew out the moment, looking between his hand and the gun with that little smirk of hers

Malachi watched the play of her lips, the impishness of the expression she gave him. Gotta admit, I’ve been fleeced by worse looking women… he thought to himself. Her brow lift was met with one of his own, his eyes narrowing slightly in a pensive stare. After a long, pregnant moment, he gave her a rolling shrug of his shoulders.

”Depends. They aren’t easy to find. Only one mag won’t do you much good, and, if I’m being honest, it has a certain sentimental value.” His hand lowered, closing over her own around the gun so that both of their fingers were wrapped around it. ”But I know a couple places in A-Town that I can find another. If you want that, some mags, and a holster rig, I’m certain we can make a deal. Just depends on what sort of collateral you are good for.”

Her skin was warm…he noticed that beneath the rough pads of his fingertips as he held her gaze, curious as to what she would respond with.

Scout Gadsby

Posted 09-04-2021, 07:54 PM

No Content Restrictions

Scout would have been lying if she didn't admit that she was trying to force his hand without actually verbally doing so. It was, after all, habit. While she wasn't very appreciative of the hand she had drawn for her life, being apart of the military and being able to generally put certain things in motion the way she wanted them in motion, was a perk. She knew Clay was zeroed in on her little tall friend here, one wrong move and the drifter would be snuffed out; then she could take what she wanted. It wasn't ideal however. She respected life, generally, especially when they'd saved hers.

Regardless, she knew the drifter now knew of her sniper. That had to have put some nerves on end, even if he wasn't showing outwardly what was going on behind the scenes. She expected a deal, if not outright being given the Glock, hopefully a fair transaction.

He did neither however. At least not to the extent she had been pushing him towards. He had some gall. She would give him that. As he reached out and placed his hand over it, the eyebrow further lifted, but this time with the hints of agitation. Scout had given him a chance to make this a smooth gift, and now it was convoluted. "I thought you wanted to forget I ever existed?" she tilted her head the slightest in inquiry, still locked in a very odd, lackluster, weak tug of war over the gun.

After a moment she sighed, "What kind of collateral are you interested in?" with that she seemingly decided not to pursue pushing him into another corner. She wouldn't have his gun, fine. But making a business deal meant she would have to see him again on another occasion and she wasn't quite sure she wanted to sign up for it if that meant being held at gun point a second time. "And how fast can you get it?"

Scout felt there was a good chance she might never even see him again. He'd probably disappear with no plans to ever return to make the deal at all. The military were often regarded that way by those on the other side of the wall. She didn't blame them.

Posted 09-05-2021, 09:01 AM

No Content Restrictions

He saw how that brow lifted, watched the tension rise in her slightly as he gripped her hand. It wasn’t hard to see just what she had been working toward, after all. It was exactly what he’d been talking about before. This shakedown was just a little more subtle and elegant than how most of her people operated. That didn’t mean he was just going to lie down and take it. Especially when he’d just saved her goddamn life. At her first question, he shrugged his shoulder a bit.

”Saving each other’s life can tend to change the scales slightly,” he admitted to her. It was true enough. It was also true that he saw an opportunity. Even the military had needs the city couldn’t satisfy, not with their rations and all. They were still people…just people that were a step higher on the food chain.

That also meant that she potentially had more to offer him.

At her follow on questions about collateral and how fast, he pondered, looking up toward the sky. The sun was setting. He could make good time tonight, but he’d have to be cautious. The trip would be suicide if he was like her…but he hadn’t been like her for a long, long time. He turned his attention back to her.

”Three days. I can be back here at noon then.” Realistically, he could do it sooner. Two, at the most. However, a normal drifter on foot could not. There wasn’t enough time in the day.

”As for collateral…that depends entirely on what you have the ability to part with. I’m certain we can come to an agreement. I may even cut you a discount if you wind up becoming a repeat customer. I’m good at finding what people need.”

He threw that out there in the hopes it would make her feel better about the arrangement. Malachi had found that business was a lot easier for most people to accept that any other motivation. They felt better if it seemed like everyone got something they wanted.

Scout Gadsby

Posted 09-05-2021, 12:42 PM

Username
Password Lost Password?	Remember me