Lana walks in to the room with Damien in tow, and it seems they interrupted a conversation the two were having. She just got the tail end of it, Sara saying she was part of the police force before the end of the world. She thought it might be something like that considering how she handled a gun. It seemed Damien and John were similar in regards to firearms considering the Norseman reenactor admitted he needed training. She lets out a impatient sigh when she sees he still didn't put his shirt on and rolls her eyes at his silent apology. Whatever. She'd just have to keep herself from being distracted.
In keeping with the time and how she wanted this to go, Lana steps from the group and moves to the wall with the map. She places her finger near the red pin in Columbia Falls. [b “Meadow Lake Resort. For a while our encampment has avoided the area because we've heard of ruthless bandits.”] She tells them. Some of the people in their encampment have spoken about them, and although Lana doesn't normally shy away from a fight, she's had them avoid it for the safety of the others. [b “Forty-eight hours ago we lost contact with a convoy who had been scavenging in Columbia Falls. I'd think they were dead, but the way we operate it would've been very improbable that four out of four people didn't send an SOS over the radio.”] Lana then motions towards John who moves from the table he was leaning on. He was the one who was able to dig up the information on the resort.
[+red “There are a few buildings on the property, so its hard to say where our people could be held, [i if] they're even there in the first place,”] That earned a hard stare from Lana, but John continued. [+red “So we should avoid going in guns ablazing. Its just the four of us, so they'll have us out manned and more than likely out gunned too.”]
[b “Its strictly a reconnaissance mission for now.”] Lana takes over. [b “To avoid needless bloodshed. But if we do find evidence of our people there, I will do what I can to pull them out. What I need from you is an extra set of eyes and ears because we have a lot of ground to cover. [i When] we find them,”] There's a heavy glance in John's direction. [b “You are no longer obligated to help me try and pull them out, because at that point, I'm going to make it personal.”]
John pats Lana on the shoulder and then addresses the other two again. [+red “We'll keep it as quiet as possible for as long as possible, that's why its just the four of us. We'll leave in a few minutes to get there before the sun goes down, but for now we'll get you equipped with some gear.”] An assortment of rifles and pistols were on one of the tables, under them being four backpacks that were already packed. John glances at Damien. [+red “Unless you have your own gear, of course. However, I would suggest going through one of the bags anyways, there's some things you'll want like a walkie-talkie, an earpiece for it, a map with various rendezvous points marked on them in case you get separated, MREs, and few other things for fun and entertainment.”]
[b “Any questions?”] Lana asks, seemingly already ready to go.
John certainly had a different approach with people than Lana did. His done was much politer but she was sure that he ran things just as well around here. Sara had come across a fair few people who assumed that emotions needed to be put aside if they were going to be any kind of leader but she was sure that Lana’s motivations were different. She didn’t ponder the thought for long but something with her told her that Lana was not always like this, that once upon a time she would have been a lot easier to get along with.
Sara watched as the man before her slapped his hand against his forehead and she found herself laughing at his gesture. It was as though he was chastising himself for not introducing himself straight away, like he had forgotten that was usually the polite thing to do. It didn’t matter to her that he had because she was sure that many people had lost the tradition of shaking hands and introducing themselves. A lot of the people she came across were more interested in what you owned and how useful you might be to their cause, a loner like Sara did not appear to be much use to anyone. Perhaps that is why she was sporting a wound on her stomach. However, she was not one to linger on the past, that was behind her now and with Lana’s help she would now heal up quickly.
Sara’s lips turned up into a smile when he finally removed her hand from his forehead and met hers with his own, introducing himself as John. Soon enough his hand was replaced with the rifle and her eyes moved along the machine with such glee that she was sure she must have looked far to excited to be holding such a weapon but it had been at least a year since she had held a rifle.
[b “Not military but the training is similar I guess. I was on the police force, you know when humans commit crimes and someone would do something about it.”]
Damien recoiled when.she laughed before smiling to himself. every moment he's spent with her she was always stoic and sonefaced. for a moment he felt himself fond of this woman when she let out a girlish laugh. it could be his lack of companionship over the past few years that caused these feelings in him so he discredited them immediately. he watched as she inspected the cart and move about the stables. when she left he quickly rushed to his pack and stapped his rifle, shield, ax and sword to the sides and face of his pack the other two firearms were a 1911 longslide with a green laser scope making it look like the one used in the dirst terminator and a chiappa tripple threat shotgun, a break action tripple barrel that had the barrels and stock cut down to make a sawed off shotgun. these had leather drop leg holsters which he put on.
shouldering his pack and throwing on his poncho he snatched down his shirt which was still damp as he tucked it under his poncho. running to catch up as his boots slapped the muddy ground untill he caught up. following her he said very little that could be one of the few things that the two had in common he spoke little and payed attention to alot. when they had reached thair destination he noticed the other woman and, as far as Damien was concerned, the boy from earlier. taking off his poncho he set it next to the door along with his pack before spreading his shirt over a closed weapons crate so it could finish drying. looking at Lana he shrugged as an apology, he had only one shirt with him at the moment and it was still drying. leaning forward he rested his palms on the table in the center of the room as he waited for Lana to give details about what he was going to be doing.
Lana stood there as she listened to Northman's demands, and at the end, she couldn't help but laugh. It was a little higher pitched than her talking voice, almost girlish. She wasn't laughing [i at] him nor did it sound insulting, but it seemed the way he was demanding thins struck one of her funny bones. In all honesty, she wasn't used to people talking to her like that these days, usually it was the other way around. It was refreshing in a surprising and amusing way.
She stands with him closer to the lantern, taking the offered jug. Lana takes a sip, an eyebrow quirks up, and she takes another sip. He was right on the mark with why she was approaching him about the operation. It was absolutely dangerous and there were very select few people she could involve or afford to involve. Now she had by chance met two capable people, so she couldn't sit on her hands and pass up a chance like this. There was nothing up to chance these days, but she would take any luck she could if offered.
[b “You guess right.”] She says and trades grips with the man. [b “Lana.”] She offers before moving passed him towards the cart. It was down to business again as she looked over its contents. It did seem like he had a lot to offer, and that his demands were relatively reasonable, especially since he was going to put his life on the line for an encampment he just came in to contact with a few hours ago. She hums at all the weapons and animals in the cart while taking another swig of the tasty drink. She felt inclined to give Damien a hard time, but he already proved to be quite beneficial to have around. So instead, she looked thoughtfully at one of the goats before turning back to Damien, leaning on the cart.
Nodding a little off to the side, she says. [b “You have yourself a deal.”] Lana then approaches him, handing him back the jug and walks towards the door, stopping just short of leaving. [b “We leave in a few hours, so if you'd follow me we'll have you briefed.”] She looks over her shoulder at him, some kind of glint in her eye. [b “And put a fucking shirt on.”] And with that, she leaves the stable and expected Damien to do the same.
John seemed slightly surprised when Sara said she was more a rifle kind of person. But instead of pressing, he pulls out what appears to be a bolt action rifle from one of the crates and turns towards the woman. He was about to hand it to her, but she introduced herself to him, holding out her hand. With his free hand John slaps himself in the forehead.
He was so used to just moving and keeping thins together, he had forgotten his manners. At the start of all of this, he would've remembered, but after all this time he had let it slip. He knew the world had changed and therefore they should with it, but he was a firm believer in keeping with certain traditions of the old world. How could they be any better than the monsters if they no longer communicated with each other?
[+red “Where are my manners today?”] He says and then takes the woman's hand and shakes it firmly. [+red “The name is John. I help run the show around here with Lana, but don't tell her I said that.”] John then hands her the rifle. It was weird how much Sara reminded him of Lana back when the apocalypse first started... Well, Sara already beat her out in the 'nice' department, but both of them were disciplined and had an affinity for rifles. So John had to ask. [+red “Were you military? Before all this, I mean.”]
Yet again, Lana proved that she was all about business with the way she simply nodded her head before moving from in front of her. It was evident that she had no intention of discussing it further other than the indication of when they would be leaving. Sara didn’t expect anything less. It made sense that the woman would want to rescue her convoy sooner rather than later and she had already agreed to help, no matter when they were leaving. The sooner she got this over with the sooner she could get back to whatever she planned on doing next. It was still strange for her to get used to living day-to-day, especially when she had been so used to living her life to a schedule when she was on the force. Perhaps it was something she would never get used to.
Sara looked over towards the window as Lana did and noticed the darkening of the sky. Apparently their trip would be accompanied with stormy weather. As if a rescue mission was not going to be exciting enough. It was then that movement caused her eye-line to move and look towards the male figure who now graced their presence. Perhaps he was someone important here, someone Lana trusted but she was sure she wouldn’t be around long enough for her to figure out too much of that. She raised her hand and waved it to the left in a single motion as he looked around the room. This new world had clearly taken its toll on the man but he had seemingly adapted and he moved and spoke with confidence.
Apparently their Viking friend had returned with supplies and that would mean that Lana would be leaving to do her own thing now, leaving her to get aquatinted with John. The moment she left he seemed to excuse her personality for her. It wasn’t the first time someone had done that today and for that reason she chuckled to herself quietly. She rose from the chair she had been sitting in and moved towards him looking over the weapons.
[b “Im definitely a rifle kind of gal.”] She did not even hesitated at the choice she was being offered. Sara looked up towards John and held out her hand in greeting, hoping to shake his. It seemed like a trivial thing to do amongst the chaos but anything that kept them human was worth doing. [b “I’m Sara. I didn’t catch your name. Seems if we are going to be going on a mission together I should at least know your name.”]
Damien hadn't realized the woman had came in untill she spoke, this caused him great embarrassment as he cleared his throat and rubbed his mouth to hide the redness in his cheeks. dropping his hand to speak he said, "yeah no problem, but i want to make it clear this isnt just for the lift out of that mess. the colt, she's mine. i also need her sadle and fifty pounds of feed. oh, also marksmanship lessons later on. i know the function of my weapons, my father taught me that much but beyond a hundred yards i can barely kill a human much less a zombie." thinking about it Damien retrived his belongings from the cart, his pack, three guns, a sword, ax, and his riot shield. "you can have everything but the cart itself."
Damien pulled out the jug of mead from the cart and uncorked it to take a swig before offering it to the woman. "this operation..." he started before a shiver went through him making him move back to the lantern for some warmth. "im guessing its dangerous and your playing it close to the vest with your people to involve me." sliding his thumbs into the waistband of his pants he smiled at the woman. "if there's fighting involved you can count me in." he said, holding out his hand, "my name's Damien, norseman reenactor and occupational viking. skills involve mid-evil combat and siege warfare, smithing, wood working, leather working, foraging and tracking."
Because of how minuscule it was, it might be Sara's imagination, but the corner of Lana's mouth might've quirked up slightly. She nods her head at the other woman and stands up, feeling slightly relieved that they would have someone who had more than a civilian skill set other than herself on the team. If Sara had said no or needed time to think it over, it would've just been Lana and John. There was a time limit to this after all, and waiting forty-eight hours might've already cost them some lives.
[b “We leave at nightfall.”] And looking outside the window, seeing the dark clouds and rain, it seemed nightfall was going to be coming sooner than anticipated, especially since the sun was setting earlier this time of year anyways. It gave her very little time to assemble her ideal team, but they would make do.
However, coming in through the heavy door comes John. [i Finally.] He was a man in his mid to late thirties, with a working man's build, dark hair, and a beard. Despite not having any training higher than civilian level before the apocalypse, he was adequate with a gun, enough so that Lana had him in charge of their watch towers and would-be guards. He was almost her second in command.
He takes a quick glance at the room. [+red “Sorry to interrupt, but I was just told by Bill that some guy with a horse came in with supplies. Goats and chickens and stuff. He said to tell you he was here.”] Again, the barely noticeable curve at the corner of her mouth. It seemed like Northman had showed up just in the nick of time and for her to see if he was willing to lend her his hands. They could use someone like him on this mission, and he was also from the outside. Not to mention he brought them more supplies, and there wasn't such thing as 'too many' of those these days.
Lana looks at John and then nods her head towards Sara. [+red “Oh, is she coming with us tonight?”] He asks, and Lana hums an affirmative in response, beginning to walk past him to meet with Northman. It seemed like he was about to ask another question, but Lana quickly leaves the room. Time was of the essence.
[+red “Don't mind Lana, she has her own way of doing things sometimes.”] John tells Sara, moving deeper in to the room, more so towards one of the crates with firearms in them. [+red “Are you more of a pistol or rifle kind of gal?”] He asks as he places a brochure down from the resort. They didn't have google to tell them about it, so they had to make due with the old fashioned way. Lots of the information in the brochure about it, Meadow Lake Resort, wasn't relevant anymore, but it gave them a bit of a floor plan.
Meanwhile, Lana was walking out through the would-be streets and quickly comes upon the stable. The rain was really coming down, and she was glad she was wearing a weather proof jacket and vest. She could feel the moisture underneath though, and before they left she'd have to change in to something with a hood for the rain. The doors to the stable had been closed but she could see what appeared to be a light from a lantern coming through.
She swings open the door and steps in to see Northman. He wasn't wearing a shirt, giving Lana a full view of his impressive physique. She did her best not to admire the definition of his muscles as she approached him, and was glad it was cold out because she could suddenly feel more heat in her face. Her face was still the same though, stony and reserved. It didn't even move when she finally was able to take notice of the cart that he had brought with him, full of supplies. Her eyes peel from that and back to the man's face, and only his face which felt straining. Her hands were firmly on her hips.
[b “Appreciate the help.”] She says in regards to the cart. This easily evened the score in her eyes, so asking him to do some dirty work for her would probably cost her. But Lana didn't mind owing one person a favour. [b “I need an extra body for an operation tonight. Interested?”] Lana would give him the specifics if he was interested, and even then he was free to walk away from the matter. She was sure the three of them could handle the resort on their own, but having an extra pair of hands would be a great help.
Sara was not usually the kind of person to make small talk, but Ben was right when he mentioned that Lana was slightly intense and even as she asked how many people were living in her encampment she could tell that she did not really want to make conversation with her. She was very much about business, that was clear from the way she held herself and the way she kept her answers short. Sara liked that about her and in some ways the woman beside her reminded her of her partner before the world went to shit. Her lips twitched in the corner and they broke into a smile as she looked down at the floor, avoiding the gaze of those around her. They were clearly a tight community and Lana did not seem like the type who would just let anyone in, so she figured most people here had a skill of some sort, something that was be beneficial to the community rather than just another mouth to feed and that made sense to her. To thrive in this world, everyone had to contribute in some way. Even so, sixty-three people in one encampment was a lot of people. In fact, Sara could not remember ever coming across a community this big before now.
Sara looked up from the floor when Lana’s pace slowed, clearly arriving at their destination and she followed her inside the building and up the stairs. It was interesting to see how they had adapted to life here and repurposed the buildings for their necessary survival. In truth, she was quite impressed with it. She watched as the woman moved around the room with such familiarity and pulled a chair out and indicated for her to take a seat to which she obliged.
When the woman suggested that she was trained she raised her eyebrow and nodded. Lana was also perceptive, taking note of the fact that she had some kind of training from the way she had handled herself with the undead and how she held her weapons. It made sense, she was the leader here for a reason and a part of her wondered whether the woman was helping her with her wound because she saw a use for her. Either way, she would allow the woman the space to say what she needed to say. She swallowed as the woman took the chair in from of her and without a worked pulled up her shirt. Sara was not about to protest though, she needed to stitch up the wound otherwise it would only get worse, so she grits her teeth as the woman got to work but found herself distracted from the pain when Lana continued to talk.
Why was she telling her that she had a convoy missing? She didn’t need to be asking herself that question for long because she continued to explain their situation. Sara listened intently the entirety of her explanation and found herself intrigued. She was sure that it was common for convoys going missing, sometimes caught up with the undead and overrun but Lana seemed convinced that they had been taken prisoners by other people. She still was not quite sure why she was telling her all of this but as she finished stitching her up, she looked her directly in the eyes and told her that she wanted her on the team.
Sara pulled the material of her shirt back down and looked at Lana with confusion as she allowed herself to think it over for a moment. Lana did not seem like the patient type, so she knew that she did not have long to give her an answer. She gratefully took the bar from her and took a bite as she mulled it over and she chewed the inside of her lip. She supposed the she owed the woman something for helping her with the wound and helping find a convoy would take advantage of her skills. It had been so long since she had done anything other than survive.
Sara nodded. [b “I will help you.”]
Darkness rolled up on Damien quicker than he anticipated. though this wasn't nightfall, a storm had brewed behind him and was rapidly approaching. being two thirds of the way to the farm it was a no brainer to keep course. in fact they needed to go faster. getting out Damien used the spears as canopy posts lashing them to the sides of the cart while using the poncho he kept packed in his travel bag as a cover. cutting the ropes leading the goats he placed them in the cart one by one. looking at the horse he cursed as he used his bed roll to cover all but the head of the horse to keep it dryer longer and preven the harness from chafing the horse.
now on foot leading the horse as he jogged along side he made his way to the farm as the rain now soaked him from head to toe and chilled him to the bone. leading the cart to the stables he pulled it inside before moving the horse and goats into empty stalls. situating the cart towards the back of the barn he stowed his equipment. as he was doing so he heard a noise outside before seeing the face enter the door. it was one of the guards he had seen at the gate before. "Hey! what are you doing here?!" he exclaimed raising his sidearm.
"i was here earlier, your boss let me take a horse home now im back to trade supplies." Damien explained. a few moments went by before thunder boomed in the distance causing the animals to become restless. the goats even belted out, chickens clucked and the rabbits feverishly scurried around in their cages. this brought a look of confusion before excitement. "tell your boss im here. ok?" the man nodded and ran off to report his find. in the meantime Damien found a lantern hanging from a support post. lighting it gave him a small heat source he could stand next to to warm his hands.
going to his pack he found a set of dry clothes. changing all except his "Death Crew" shirt which now hung to dry near the lantern. finding a small hand towel in his pack he dried off his shoulders, chest, abdomen, and back before returning to stand by the lantern. looking down at himself he noticed the weight he had started to pack on with it closing into winter. even so the definition of his muscles wasnt afflicted as he flexed his abdomen for his own amusement.
The woman was perceptive deducing that Lana was in charge. She hadn't even given anyone orders as of yet. But perhaps it was how the people around her acted in response to her presence. Back a little after the end of the world started they needed a leader, and at the time Lana was the only one to step up to the plate. However, she wasn't going to go in to detail about how this all came about; what Sara had said seemed to be more of a statement than a question, but either way Lana hums in response. No one cared about history anymore, and she'd rather forget what happened then.
At her next statement, Lana looks over her shoulder at the woman before looking back to where she was leading them. The motor homes, tents, and trailers were all packed pretty close together, creating what almost felt like tight streets. Just with a lot more widows and people staring. Not to mention it got eerily quiet as they passed through.
[b “Sixty-three.”] Lana says in regards to the amount of people around here. They were lucky they found this place when they did, and they were even more lucky that most of the original eighteen of them were previously farmers who knew how to run and cultivate the facilities. Sixty-three people was a lot to feed in these conditions, but they were doing well and steadily improving. Their numbers weren't dwindling but increasing slowly, this farm becoming a safe haven for those who had lived most of the apocalypse fending for themselves. Lana herself even breathed a little easier after being here and she excelled at being in excessively shitty situations.
Lana lead them to the centre of the area where a large residence was built, clearly before the apocalypse. She opens the front door and leads her inside. The main floor seemed to be a common area, but also had areas re-purposed for different uses and storage. There were a few other rooms, but the doors were closed, and it seemed like this wasn't their stop anyways. She brings Sara upstairs which had a less homey feel to it, and was behind a heavy locked door. Lana unlocks it.
Most of the interior walls that weren't load-bearing were taken out, opening up the entire second story floor. The flooring was mostly wood, but there were small places where carpet used to be and subsequently torn out and replaced. There were crates that had weapons and ammunition, tables for filling magazines and cleaning/repairing weapons, as well as a makeshift radio station. In front of the radio station was a large map of the state, and in the centre of the room was a sizable conference table with chairs. She takes two of the chairs and has Sara sit in one of them close to the map. She could talk while she worked.
[b “You're trained.”] Lana stated as she grabbed a medical kit laying on one of the tables. She could tell by how she carried her gun and how she fought. It wasn't just taking advantage of the undead's poor motor skills. The finesse was evident.
She sits on the chair in front of Sara and slides it close, slowly pulling the woman's shirt up to look at the wound. It was a puncture wound, nothing fatal, but the area it was in made healing an issue, especially since they were always on the move. It'd just reopen and bleed if Sara moved wrong. She wouldn't bleed out, but it would hurt and would eventually get infected. And it wasn't a bite just like Lana had expected, so Sara didn't have to die.
Leaning forward, Lana cleans her hands and then the wound with a saline solution before she starts stitching it up. It wouldn't need very many stitches, but it would definitely stop the wound from reopening. [b “I have a convoy missing.”] She said to Sara. Although calling it a 'convoy' made it seem bigger than it was. Her, Ben, and John were a 'convoy' today. [b “Three scouts and one driver, two days ago while investigating Columbia Falls.”] She motions her head towards the large map on the wall. It was located just beside Whitefish and Kalispell. On the map there were coloured pins stuck in to certain places. There was a red pin in an area in Columbia Falls. A resort.
[b “I believe they were taken prisoner and I'm putting together a team to get them back.”] She finished sewing the woman up, leaning back in to her chair to be eye level with the woman. [b “I want you on the team.”] No one but a select few knew about this incident, because they didn't want to incite a panic, which might be why she was enlisting capable outside help; Northman was next on her list for recruitment. It wasn't uncommon for a scouting mission to take a few days, but she knew they were taken because of the area and the fact that four out of four people didn't call for a check-in for over forty-eight hours. She'd assume they were killed, but the driver was always outside of the area being scouted, so all four of them dying at once and no one notifying anyone was highly unlikely.
She holds up an MRE chocolate bar to Sara for her to take, as if that was part of a deal one couldn't refuse. Of course she'd let the other woman think it over if she needed to; when push came to shove, this wasn't her fight. Lana then quirks up an eyebrow asking the obvious question without actually opening her mouth.
[i Are you in?]
Sara watched as Lana waved off the other male. It seemed that she didn’t mind offering the man a horse to get back home and she wondered how many of those horses they just have for them to sacrifice one for a survivor they had just met, especially one that had no intention of staying. Sara’s attention was only drawn back the Ben when he spoke again, telling her that her presence here would not be a drain on their supplies. She laughed and shook her head. How could a kid who had grown up in this mess be so optimistic about strangers? Lucky for him, she just wanted to survive, she didn’t had a violent bone in her body, at least towards the living.
[b “I wouldn’t go telling just anyone that. There are people out there who would burn this encampment to the ground for those supplies.”] Sara adjusted her hand on her stomach and looked up at Lana returned, telling Ben to shut up. Her smiled remained upon her face as she watched the boy’s expression change and watched as the woman’s eyes travelled down to her stomach where she was bleeding. She swallowed and let out a heavy breath before nodding. They would talk and then she would get out of their hair. There would be no harm in simply engaging in conversation. [b “I’ll see you around kid.”] Sara placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder and smiled kindly towards him, mostly to thank him for not leaving her there to fight the rest of the undead alone. A different person might have.
She then turned towards Lana and nodded and followed her to wherever she was leading her. [b “I’m assuming you are the one in charge here.”] She spoke mostly to fill the silence between them as she took in the sights of their encampment as she walked, faces turning to look at her and whispers being exchanged about who the survivor might be. [b “You’ve got a lot of people here.”]
Damien stood there for a moment after being offered a horse as he weighed his options. his first thought was it being a trap but something else told him it wasn't. not to mention with a horse he could make a round trip to bring supplies back to pay for the horse and still have time to make it home before dark. he guessed this was better than taking the horse and disappearing with it. making his way down to the barn he had found a young colt that caught his eye. with no one around to designate what saddle belongs to his chosen horse so he simply led the horse from its stall and took two handfuls of the horses mane before jumping and climbing his way onto the horse's back. using his knees and heels he pressed them into the horse's sides to keep himself stable without the saddle. with a click of the tunge and a tap of the heel the horse was off. Damien had some experience with horses but never actually owned one before.
within the hour the horse had traveled to the mans homestead. it was fairly small but it was all he needed. a ten foot privacy fence lined the property and featured a spiked iron bar at the top to deter intruders. the gate matched the wood fence in appearance so it was a seamless wall of wood and spikes. on the inside bracers had been placed on the posts and between them to reinforce it against the dead. people wernt much of a problem, a truck couldnt get this far back into the woods without a chainsaw and a guide so it was relatively the safest place in the area for one, but it did get lonely.
when inside Damien was greated by the belting of goats as a few ran up to greet him. along with goats he had chickens and rabbits in different pens along with a small garden of vegetables. in the corner of the property was a reenactment cart he had bilt some time prior to the apocalypse. pulling it out he had started selecting what he was going to give them, even thinking of what he wanted in return. mostly it was to learn how to use firearms properly. finally he decided to give them enough livestock to get started along with a sample of what can be produced from them such as eggs, milk, cheese, and dried meats. he even included a clay gallon jug full of his home made honey mead. with chickens and rabbits in cages and goats tied to the rear of the cart he even found space to pile in unused ammo and firearms his father had collected along with a dozen winged spears and a half dozen longswords and axes he had forged during his spare time. by now the cart was full and the horse strapped in Damien sat on top of the cart and started his way back to the farm the other survivors were at.
It seemed like the survivors she brought home had no intention of staying, which evidently suited her just fine. It was a free country, she wouldn't hold anyone here against their will. So when Northman told her he had to get home before dark, she nodded at him. If he had somewhere else to be, then clearly he had his own priorities to take care of. She knew the importance of things, even the little things, which was why she didn't trust many people. She followed his worried gaze towards the more ragged people on the outer ring of their would-be trailer park.
[b “They won't do anything.”] He told him as he began to leave, and she followed him out to a certain point. Those people were more recent... [i additions] to their little homestead here. Whatever Northman had back where he was seemed to be enough to sustain him, and they had enough here on the farm as well. That being said, they mostly lived off of fresh bread, grains, and vegetables during the winter, so she'd say for a large group of survivors they were living pretty well. These street urchins wouldn't give up their newly acquired steady supply of sustenance to take what Northman was pulling for what was likely one person.
Before he leaves or if he decided to stay, whatever really, she pointed to a stable, indicating for him to take a horse if he needed. They had quite a few, and these days they only really used them for transportation in the country areas for convenience. They were also here in case they ever needed the extra food. It was nice assurance.
And with that, she waves him off, quickly moving in on Ben and Sara's conversation. She had a wound she intended to look at.
[+blue “No, no, you wouldn't be a drain on our supplies.”] He clearly took notice of her wound. [+blue “We have plenty of medical supplies, we actually scavenged some dead FEMA outposts and have tons of them.”] Good thing he wasn't shouting that at the top of his lungs. Even though only Sara and Lana could hear, she didn't want any of that to get around, especially not on the outside. They were pretty hidden and secluded here, but it wouldn't do them any good if people started [i looking] for them.
[b “Ben, shut up.”] She tells him, swatting the back of his head. She then looks Sara, and makes it very clear she was looking at where the woman's wound was before she meets her eyes again. She beckons her with a finger. [b “We need to talk.”] She would stitch her up herself too, Lana had enough medical training where she could do [i that] at least. Plus, there was something specific she wanted to talk to her about anyways, and if John decided to park the damn truck some time this century, she'd be happy to have him weigh in on the conversation as well. But they'd have to take this conversation to the farmhouse, which she motions for Sara to follow her there.
Sara wanted nothing more than for the truck to drive off so that she could simply return to her solitude. She could get away from the undead herself once the truck was out of sight but it seemed as though the boy had other ideas and leaned down to pull her up into the truck and within a matter of seconds, the woman who seemed just as cold towards people as she was had grabbed hold of her to launch her into the back of the truck. Great. Now she owed these people something because they think they have saved her live. Owing people something could be dangerous in this world and she had been so careful up to this point to avoid that. In the process of being hurled into the vehicle her wound opened up once more and she could feel the warmth of the blood drenching the bandages she had wrapped around her stomach not too long ago. That seemed wasted now and at some point she would have to scavenge for more medical supplies but she did not do anything to alert they strangers that she was bleeding. Instead she grit her teeth, dusting herself off and pulled her jacket tighter around her to conceal her stomach in case the blood oozed through to her shirt.
Sara looked out the back of the truck and watched as some of the dead moved faster than she had seen living people. They seemed to be quicker when they first turned and it was obvious by the way that they moved that they were very new to being dead yet she watched as the distance between the truck and the undead became greater. Sara sighed and looked around at the unlikely crowd of people gathered and hoped that they would simply drop them off at their earliest convenience. It wasn’t as though she had a home to go to so it didn’t matter to her what direction they were going in. Ben started to talk, attempting to get to know the newcomers to their group while the woman he introduced as Lana kept quiet. They had already established and lack of trust back at the house and she knew about her injury, knowing that if they brought her back to their home that she would become a burden on their supplies and that was not Sara’s intention.
She slumped herself on the floor of the truck, leaning her back against the walls as she allowed her hand to rest on her stomach, checking periodically and subtly for any blood. Sara almost laughed at the polar opposites in personality when it came to Ben and Lana and she couldn’t envisage a scenario where these two would have anything to do with each other if the world hadn’t already gone to shit. She smirked to herself at the thought and figured that it wasn’t exactly giving away too much to simply tell him her name. [b “The name is Sara kid, you did good back there.”] That was all she said for the entirety of their journey, unsure how long they would be driving for or where they were going.
Sara allowed herself to glance towards the other male in the truck now. He was well built and obviously had a decent lifestyle to be able to keep himself well but he didn’t seem to be the type to keep company himself. If he did, he certainly wasn’t showing any concern for anyone he might have left behind. He had evidently adapted well to this new lifestyle. It seemed that she didn’t have much longer to take in his appearance as the woman moved to the outside of the truck now to signal the opening of a gate and Sara started to rise to her feet. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen this many faces. She swallowed hard as she looked from face to face, seeing them whisper about their presence and she turned to Ben who was still in the truck as it came to a stop.
[b “Look kid, I appreciate the ride but I don’t plan on being a drain on your supplies here. I did not set out today in hopes to find an encampment, just some supplies back there and I got what I was looking for.”] She removed her hand from her stomach and bit the inside of her lip as she saw that it was now tainted with the red of her blood. She cursed herself silently, hoping the boy didn’t noticed as she climbed out of the truck, listening to the other male telling Lana that he had no intention of staying, that he had his own place to get back to. Figured. Must be nice to have somewhere to go. She didn’t mind moving but it sure would have been easier if she had a constant; a home.
Damien grunted as he was used as a post for this womans shooting platform. this frustrated him but they were soon moving allowing him to shove the woman off his chest. after some time he took his weapon back and reloaded it from his last two remaining magazines. when he realized they were at a compound Damien became fairly uneasy at the number of people that had gathered especially after seeing looks of dissatisfaction and anger through the signs malnutrition on their faces. he was grateful for the ride out but they had gone nearly five miles past where his cabin was located. his main concern was his livestock. be it scavengers or something that will come eat the animals Damien needed to get back and tend to his own homestead. he had more than necessary in terms of provisions so he would make the journey back tomorrow with some supplies for his gratitude.
tapping the woman on the shoulder he had recently met. he thanked her for the ride before using his thumb to point at the trail back to the road, "i have to get home before dark." he said as he started back the way he came. his other concern was people taking notice of his size and build. it was clear Damien was well nourished and exercised to be the size he is a few years into the apocalypse, which ment he had a steady food supply somewhere somehow. he would even antucipate being followed by someone here if he wasnt outright prevented from leaving.
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