Fallout: The Long Haul (RP)
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"Let the doc go. He was with me for hours, he and I have no idea what's going on. Calm down a second and tell me what's going on." Daniel said, still laboring with every breath. He could walk now, yes, but he he was still injured.
"That zombie mother-fucker! That's what the fuck happened!" Victor choked, his voice cracking with dryness.
Daniel took a step towards Victor, placing his hand on his shoulder. "The doctor didn't do this, let him go." Daniel reiterated. "Plus," he continued "from the looks of it you just about ruined your knife. Drop him, let him go behind me and I'll give you my 1911, and my folder as a sign of trust."
Victor looked confused. That's the dumbest thing he'd ever heard, a man threatens to kill you and you give him a more effective weapon? That's insanity, that or childish trust. That sort thinking would have killed almost anyone in the wastes, but here he was both alive and older than him. Thinking for a moment he released the doctor. Adjusting his glasses the young doctor stood up straight, calmly walked behind Daniel and the exchange went smoothly.
"If you were anyone else I'd have-" Victor began, cut off by another crack in his voice.
"Sit down. I'll get you a saline bag, it'll rehydrate you some. I don't have any water, but a bag or two would at least get you out of clinical dehydration. Don't move too much, you'll only get in a worse shape. Doctor Windsor said with a certain air of professionalism.
By the time the events had concluded, Gene vanished back into the shadows.
"That zombie mother-fucker! That's what the fuck happened!" Victor choked, his voice cracking with dryness.
Daniel took a step towards Victor, placing his hand on his shoulder. "The doctor didn't do this, let him go." Daniel reiterated. "Plus," he continued "from the looks of it you just about ruined your knife. Drop him, let him go behind me and I'll give you my 1911, and my folder as a sign of trust."
Victor looked confused. That's the dumbest thing he'd ever heard, a man threatens to kill you and you give him a more effective weapon? That's insanity, that or childish trust. That sort thinking would have killed almost anyone in the wastes, but here he was both alive and older than him. Thinking for a moment he released the doctor. Adjusting his glasses the young doctor stood up straight, calmly walked behind Daniel and the exchange went smoothly.
"If you were anyone else I'd have-" Victor began, cut off by another crack in his voice.
"Sit down. I'll get you a saline bag, it'll rehydrate you some. I don't have any water, but a bag or two would at least get you out of clinical dehydration. Don't move too much, you'll only get in a worse shape. Doctor Windsor said with a certain air of professionalism.
By the time the events had concluded, Gene vanished back into the shadows.
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leonard267
FAKKU Non-Writer
Gene pulled a long face. He went back to the tunnels and turned to Wade who was with him all the time while he was scavenging the tunnels for anything of value on John Windsor's instructions. He was dismayed that the very same person freed Vic, a person he wanted gagged up and bound and thrown to the lions or in this case the mutants above them.
Continuing on to the cache with a person who wanted his head in addition to being pursued by a horde of monsters was an unappealing set of circumstances. He thought of shooting Vic but that would upset Wade and the rest.
Should he go up and persuade the rest of the team to abandon him? He thought of doing that when Vic started attacking John Windsor but had cold feet. Gene cannot manhandle Vic even with the help of Windsor. What made that even more implausible was the fact that Daniel Townes, who was just roused, persuaded Vic to cease his attacks.
Gene asked Wade, "I ain't got an inkling of what to do. Boy, do you have any suggestions?"
Wade paused for a moment for thought and replied, "Let us go back to where the rest are. I will do the talking. No shotgun slamming people's heads this time okay?"
To that, Gene answered, "The good son knows best. Mind you, if you fail to convince Angsty Teen to calm his raging hormones and I get my head blown off, you are not getting to that cache,"
Shortly after, Wade went up the steps that separated the tunnel from the station, with Gene following closely behind. Wade gripped his weapon ever the more tightly as they got closer to Daniel, Windsor and Vic.
"Hey! We just got back from scavenging, Doc," Wade spoke casually upon reaching them whilst pointing a gun in Vic's direction. Gene followed suit.
Vic responded angrily and was about to attack when Daniel and Windsor restrained him. Vic calmed down very quickly upon realising that he was unarmed whilst Gene and Wade were.
"Sorry about just now, Vic. We thought you could do with some peace and quiet. You know, chill out, relax..." Wade said, only to hear snorts from Vic.
"We can only get to cache if we stick as a group. Blowing each other's heads up will only see us getting eaten up by those things out there. What's more, Gene is our guide. Not a good idea killing our guide, is there?"
Wade was repeating the same arguments as before. No surprise Vic was rolling his eyes whilst he said that.
"How about this, Vic? You don't blow up zombie-corpse guy's head, I will keep an eye on zombie-corpse guy, just to make sure he doesn't do anything funny. Deal?" Wade made an offer. All the while, Gene's face grew longer and longer with barely suppressed displeasure.
Continuing on to the cache with a person who wanted his head in addition to being pursued by a horde of monsters was an unappealing set of circumstances. He thought of shooting Vic but that would upset Wade and the rest.
Should he go up and persuade the rest of the team to abandon him? He thought of doing that when Vic started attacking John Windsor but had cold feet. Gene cannot manhandle Vic even with the help of Windsor. What made that even more implausible was the fact that Daniel Townes, who was just roused, persuaded Vic to cease his attacks.
Gene asked Wade, "I ain't got an inkling of what to do. Boy, do you have any suggestions?"
Wade paused for a moment for thought and replied, "Let us go back to where the rest are. I will do the talking. No shotgun slamming people's heads this time okay?"
To that, Gene answered, "The good son knows best. Mind you, if you fail to convince Angsty Teen to calm his raging hormones and I get my head blown off, you are not getting to that cache,"
Shortly after, Wade went up the steps that separated the tunnel from the station, with Gene following closely behind. Wade gripped his weapon ever the more tightly as they got closer to Daniel, Windsor and Vic.
"Hey! We just got back from scavenging, Doc," Wade spoke casually upon reaching them whilst pointing a gun in Vic's direction. Gene followed suit.
Vic responded angrily and was about to attack when Daniel and Windsor restrained him. Vic calmed down very quickly upon realising that he was unarmed whilst Gene and Wade were.
"Sorry about just now, Vic. We thought you could do with some peace and quiet. You know, chill out, relax..." Wade said, only to hear snorts from Vic.
"We can only get to cache if we stick as a group. Blowing each other's heads up will only see us getting eaten up by those things out there. What's more, Gene is our guide. Not a good idea killing our guide, is there?"
Wade was repeating the same arguments as before. No surprise Vic was rolling his eyes whilst he said that.
"How about this, Vic? You don't blow up zombie-corpse guy's head, I will keep an eye on zombie-corpse guy, just to make sure he doesn't do anything funny. Deal?" Wade made an offer. All the while, Gene's face grew longer and longer with barely suppressed displeasure.
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Vic stared down the sights of the pistol given to him by Daniel. It felt . . . not right. It was light compared to his shotgun. He wanted it back, piece of shit that it was. Footsteps echoed down from the other end of the room. Two pairs, only one possibility. Vic shoved the pistol behind him quickly and stood up to meet them. Doc eyed Vic nervously. It was the kind of look that said, "Don't fuck anything up, please." Vic flashed a smile meant to be disarming.
And lunged at Gene the second he approached. Unfortunately, Doc and Daniel were waiting for it and had him restrained in short order. They let go after Vic assured them he wouldn't attack them anymore. The zombie stayed quiet, letting Wade do all the talking. It was a smart move on his part. The entire time, Vic kept his hands behind his back, one placed on the butt of the pistol.
". . . just to make sure he doesn't do anything funny," Wade concluded. "Deal?" Vic glanced at Gene. He wasn't exactly pleased at the way things had turned out.
It'll have to do, Vic thought.
He removed his hand from the pistol and held it out. Wade accepted it. Vic moved on to Gene after they were done shaking hands. The zombie looked uncertain until Vic made the gesture he'd made to Wade. He took it reluctantly. Before he could pull away though, Vic leaned in close and patted him the back hard enough to elicit a grunt. At the same time he whispered in his ear, "I've got my eye on you."
"And mine on you," Gene whispered back.
And lunged at Gene the second he approached. Unfortunately, Doc and Daniel were waiting for it and had him restrained in short order. They let go after Vic assured them he wouldn't attack them anymore. The zombie stayed quiet, letting Wade do all the talking. It was a smart move on his part. The entire time, Vic kept his hands behind his back, one placed on the butt of the pistol.
". . . just to make sure he doesn't do anything funny," Wade concluded. "Deal?" Vic glanced at Gene. He wasn't exactly pleased at the way things had turned out.
It'll have to do, Vic thought.
He removed his hand from the pistol and held it out. Wade accepted it. Vic moved on to Gene after they were done shaking hands. The zombie looked uncertain until Vic made the gesture he'd made to Wade. He took it reluctantly. Before he could pull away though, Vic leaned in close and patted him the back hard enough to elicit a grunt. At the same time he whispered in his ear, "I've got my eye on you."
"And mine on you," Gene whispered back.
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"Now that that's out of the way I'll have to ask Mr Fulton here to sit down while I hang him an IV. Wade, try to get some sleep you look awful, Gene, though I'm not as competent on ghoul physical needs or limitations as I am with unirradiated humans, I do know that you don't need much sleep. You have 2 hours until the bag is empty and we can move. I'm not telling you what to do, but suggest sleeping." the doctor said whilst sticking Victor. Daniel smiled warmly to the group, trying to mask the pain radiating through his nearly broken body. "We move in 2 hours, as I recall we can take the subway system almost anywhere here, so even of we don't get outright there, we'll be close at least."
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((OOC: tl;dr, some character dev stuff))
Wade sighed, clearly exhausted from the tension in the group, he remembered why he had been solo most his life. Complying with Daniel, he decided to knock off before they planned to leave, taking a spot near some rubble to rest his head.
His sleep was like usual, disturbed and haunted by ruined familiar faces, emaciated bodies and the big E surrounded by stars. His nightmare climaxes at the helpless sight of his mother, half human and half mutated rotting flesh, tossed overboard still laborously breathing.
His eyes opened, skin covered in a fine layer of cold sweat and chest heavy as he took in deep breaths. He scanned his surroundings, ensuring his past visions were nothing but his own imagination and sighed in relief. He took out his Pip-boy, he still had about twenty minutes before departure.
He looked around again, rubbed his eyes and decided to do what always calmed him, break down and clean his gun. He rolled out a small sheet of tarp and as he pulled apart his rifle, he began humming a hymn only he probably knew.
Wade spent the last seconds staring at the clock on his Pip-boy. He had cleaned his rifle in record time, tinkered with scrap from his pack and smoked a cigarette while dreaming of Russian steppes. "Three. Two. One." with a grunt, he stood and reported to Daniel. "It's about time now," he glanced over to the rest of the team, "Do you think they're ready?"
Wade sighed, clearly exhausted from the tension in the group, he remembered why he had been solo most his life. Complying with Daniel, he decided to knock off before they planned to leave, taking a spot near some rubble to rest his head.
His sleep was like usual, disturbed and haunted by ruined familiar faces, emaciated bodies and the big E surrounded by stars. His nightmare climaxes at the helpless sight of his mother, half human and half mutated rotting flesh, tossed overboard still laborously breathing.
His eyes opened, skin covered in a fine layer of cold sweat and chest heavy as he took in deep breaths. He scanned his surroundings, ensuring his past visions were nothing but his own imagination and sighed in relief. He took out his Pip-boy, he still had about twenty minutes before departure.
He looked around again, rubbed his eyes and decided to do what always calmed him, break down and clean his gun. He rolled out a small sheet of tarp and as he pulled apart his rifle, he began humming a hymn only he probably knew.
Wade spent the last seconds staring at the clock on his Pip-boy. He had cleaned his rifle in record time, tinkered with scrap from his pack and smoked a cigarette while dreaming of Russian steppes. "Three. Two. One." with a grunt, he stood and reported to Daniel. "It's about time now," he glanced over to the rest of the team, "Do you think they're ready?"
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leonard267
FAKKU Non-Writer
If Gene was ready, he did not show it. After reluctantly shaking hands with Vic, hoping that Vic's hand would suffer an allergic reaction from Gene's dead skin and snarling at him, he gripped his weapon tightly. Ghouls like Gene could stay awake for a few days without effort. He knew that the rest of the team were aware that he saw them as expendable. Vic expressed strong displeasure about it, if displeasure were the proper word to use. Falling asleep and leaving them at their mercy was not exactly high in his list of priorities.
Though Daniel advised him to sleep in his affable voice, Gene pretended to comply and stared blankly at the ceiling of the subway station instead.
He spent the 2 hours that was supposed to be spent sleeping doing a bit of thinking and trying to make sense where they were and what was happening. The team was quite some distance north of Manhattan, their destination. Gene intended to sneak his way into Times Square which was at Manhattan with the rest of the team serving as his bodyguards and meat shields.
The former Soviet embassy was the landmark of that area though it was dwarfed by a very tall tower which they had to climb. It was in that tower where the cache was. Though that was the same place was where Gene lived and he laid a network of traps and devices to deter other ghouls and mutants from entering, who was to say that his corner of Times Square was entirely safe?
What was most important now was to get their bearings straight and follow the tunnels south. Even that presented problems.
Another reason why Gene was willing to abandon Daniel, John Windsor and Vic in order to sneak into the tunnels was because he knew the tunnels were controlled by his kind. He did not want the ghouls to know that he entered the tunnels because he is not exactly on good terms with them. There was bad blood between them, a result of Gene tricking and backstabbing his fellow ghouls many times in the past for some petty gain like caps, ammunition or the very occasional weapon or plot of land.
While the team was fortunate that the mutants did not successfully manage to pursue them into the underground, there was no cause for celebration. Gene imagined that there were ghoul guards sniping at the centaurs drawing them away from their tunnels. Those ghouls would know something is amiss due to all the commotion. They might be even aware of their presence in the tunnels. As to why they did not act for almost a full day, Gene did not know. That aside, it was either the mutants or the ghouls, neither choice pleasant. It must said that ghouls discriminate against healthy human beings and backstabbing ghouls.
As he was lost in his thoughts, two hours passed. Wade broke the silence,
"Do you think they're ready?"
Gene cut in rather rudely,
"Not if you don't know where to go next. Not if you don't know that we are pretty much getting of the frying pan and into the fire,"
He proceeded by telling them about the ghouls in the tunnels and the fact that they aren't really too happy with him.
Though Daniel advised him to sleep in his affable voice, Gene pretended to comply and stared blankly at the ceiling of the subway station instead.
He spent the 2 hours that was supposed to be spent sleeping doing a bit of thinking and trying to make sense where they were and what was happening. The team was quite some distance north of Manhattan, their destination. Gene intended to sneak his way into Times Square which was at Manhattan with the rest of the team serving as his bodyguards and meat shields.
The former Soviet embassy was the landmark of that area though it was dwarfed by a very tall tower which they had to climb. It was in that tower where the cache was. Though that was the same place was where Gene lived and he laid a network of traps and devices to deter other ghouls and mutants from entering, who was to say that his corner of Times Square was entirely safe?
What was most important now was to get their bearings straight and follow the tunnels south. Even that presented problems.
Another reason why Gene was willing to abandon Daniel, John Windsor and Vic in order to sneak into the tunnels was because he knew the tunnels were controlled by his kind. He did not want the ghouls to know that he entered the tunnels because he is not exactly on good terms with them. There was bad blood between them, a result of Gene tricking and backstabbing his fellow ghouls many times in the past for some petty gain like caps, ammunition or the very occasional weapon or plot of land.
While the team was fortunate that the mutants did not successfully manage to pursue them into the underground, there was no cause for celebration. Gene imagined that there were ghoul guards sniping at the centaurs drawing them away from their tunnels. Those ghouls would know something is amiss due to all the commotion. They might be even aware of their presence in the tunnels. As to why they did not act for almost a full day, Gene did not know. That aside, it was either the mutants or the ghouls, neither choice pleasant. It must said that ghouls discriminate against healthy human beings and backstabbing ghouls.
As he was lost in his thoughts, two hours passed. Wade broke the silence,
"Do you think they're ready?"
Gene cut in rather rudely,
"Not if you don't know where to go next. Not if you don't know that we are pretty much getting of the frying pan and into the fire,"
He proceeded by telling them about the ghouls in the tunnels and the fact that they aren't really too happy with him.
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Fortunately for Daniel, Susan was one of the traders who would resupply the NYSE ghoul community, though he knew it as "Nice", a pseudo play on words by the ghoul inhabitants. He'd never been there himself, but he knew of it, and more importantly he knew the names of a few traders who could vouch for him. Michael Alexander, one of them, had actually paid a visit to his home in Raceway to see Susan, meet Rebecca, and to talk to Daniel. Raceway was primarily "smooth-skin", but ghouls were welcome, for a few terms Raceway even had a ghoul mayor. Daniel smiled at the mention of the settlement, but changed his expression when he heard about Gene's history there. "This complicates things." Daniel said, stating the obvious. Clack, clack, clack, clack, the sounds of echoing footfalls reverberated off of the walls as the little group headed forward. Up ahead was a patrol of 10, each holding assault rifles, each wearing yellow combat armor. (They couldn't see the Long Haul party. PER check, 7 required to see the group. Daniel is successful, Windsor successful)
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(Wade PER check passed)
It was hard in the low light conditions but Wade managed to spot the sickly yellow color of a ghoul patrol's combat armor in the distance, armed with a variety of assault rifles that were easier for him to recognize than the ghouls themselves.
He looked about the group, it seemed some already spotted the patrol as well.
It was hard in the low light conditions but Wade managed to spot the sickly yellow color of a ghoul patrol's combat armor in the distance, armed with a variety of assault rifles that were easier for him to recognize than the ghouls themselves.
He looked about the group, it seemed some already spotted the patrol as well.
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Now we have to deal with a whole 'community' of zombies? Vic thought. This couldn't get any worse, and we're not even on the real job yet! This was just supposed to be a little stop before leaving the city. Vic rubbed the prickly stubble on his face. He wasn't about to use the knife he had on him to shave. The thing wasn't made for it, and it wasn't near sharp enough to use for such a delicate process.
Perhaps it was because of his being occupied with wondering when the next opportunity to shave would be that Vic didn't notice the others come to a halt. He kept moving on until a hand reached out from behind and grabbed him by the back of his collar.
"What the hell are you--" He was cut off by another hand covering his mouth. Vic didn't know what was going on, but he wasn't the least bit amused. Then he narrowed his eyes and finally saw what they saw. The patrol dead ahead. They were stopped, scanning the area.
"I think I heard something," one of the patrol said. His voice echoed down to the group. That was Vic thought he said at least. He hoped he was mistaken.
Perhaps it was because of his being occupied with wondering when the next opportunity to shave would be that Vic didn't notice the others come to a halt. He kept moving on until a hand reached out from behind and grabbed him by the back of his collar.
"What the hell are you--" He was cut off by another hand covering his mouth. Vic didn't know what was going on, but he wasn't the least bit amused. Then he narrowed his eyes and finally saw what they saw. The patrol dead ahead. They were stopped, scanning the area.
"I think I heard something," one of the patrol said. His voice echoed down to the group. That was Vic thought he said at least. He hoped he was mistaken.
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leonard267
FAKKU Non-Writer
((I will make a few silly remarks here.))
All this while, Gene was trying to make himself scarce. He felt extremely uneasy, fidgeting every second or so before finally wrapping his face with some rag he had found whilst searching the tunnels in a rather comedic manner.
There appeared to be some form of maintenance in those tunnels with the ever occasional (and odd) torch lining those tunnels. These must be put in place by the ghouls who resided in those tunnels.
The rest of the team, with the possible exception of Vic, was moving furtively as well. They were more strung up when they heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. Even more still when Vic spoke rather loudly. It was only a matter of time before they were found out.
What could they do? Hope that Michael Alexander, acquainted with both Gene and Daniel, was among one of the ghouls? Pretend to be Daniel's wife or daughter? Pretend to be a woman? Ghouls tend to be easier on "Smooth-skin" women, after all.
(PER check failed) To make matters worse, yellow armour clad figures whom Gene recognised immediately as ghouls who roam the tunnels spotted Gene who looked silly with his head wrapped up.
All this while, Gene was trying to make himself scarce. He felt extremely uneasy, fidgeting every second or so before finally wrapping his face with some rag he had found whilst searching the tunnels in a rather comedic manner.
There appeared to be some form of maintenance in those tunnels with the ever occasional (and odd) torch lining those tunnels. These must be put in place by the ghouls who resided in those tunnels.
The rest of the team, with the possible exception of Vic, was moving furtively as well. They were more strung up when they heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. Even more still when Vic spoke rather loudly. It was only a matter of time before they were found out.
What could they do? Hope that Michael Alexander, acquainted with both Gene and Daniel, was among one of the ghouls? Pretend to be Daniel's wife or daughter? Pretend to be a woman? Ghouls tend to be easier on "Smooth-skin" women, after all.
(PER check failed) To make matters worse, yellow armour clad figures whom Gene recognised immediately as ghouls who roam the tunnels spotted Gene who looked silly with his head wrapped up.
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((OOC: I've been waiting for someone to make a move, fight, sneak, talk to them... I'm GM, but I want you guys to decide the path we take more often than not.))
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"Damn." Wade thought to himself as the ghouls made their way towards them. Looking at the rest, it was clear they were also worried of the outcome. But seeing as things were, he took charge and walked forward to greet the patrol, already evident of their appearance.
"Oh. Smoothskins." The lead remarked having a closer look at Wade. "What are you doing down here? This is ghoul territory." He gestured to the rest of the patrol for emphasis.
Wade broke a nervous sweat, he kept his attention to the lead's eyes, hoping they wouldn't lock onto Gene in the weird getup.
"We're scavengers." Wade replied, the ghoul raised an eyebrow, briefly scanning over the group with an expression of disbelief but let Wade continue. "Well. I am at least. These guys are just there to provide extra firepower. You know what it's like up there."
(Charisma check failed)
"I don't actually." The mutant growled with a distasteful expression, he looked past Wade, locking his eyes on Gene and asked, "What's with ragskin over there?" Seemingly wanting to have asked earlier.
"Oh him?" Wade said looking back, trying to act earnestly, "He was a burn victim, can't stand sun or dust getting on his face. They were really bad burns." He whispered those last works quietly.
The ghoul looked suspiciously at him. "Funny thing," he said stretching his left shoulder, "His suit reminds me of someone I knew. He was a bastard, if I ever saw him again. I think I'd kill him."
Wade gulped and chuckled, "Well it's a good thing he ain't around. Be a shame if the noise attracted some unwanted company." He stared intently at the ghoul as he did otherwise. Tension filled the air as the two had a stare off with each other.
(Luck check passed)
Suddenly the tunnels filled with laughter from the two. "You're alright, smoothskin" he replied, Wade nodding in appreciation but the laughter was cut short. "Hey, how's about you boys stay with us for the night? Sewers get really nasty when its dark." His last line was clearly a joke but Wade sensed seriousness in his offer. Not good.
"Uh, we're really on a tight schedule so we can't really stick around and-"
"I wasn't asking." The ghoul interupted, it seemed there was no real way out of this.
"Well if you're insisting." Wade gestured ahead of him. "Lead the way." The ghoul nodded before signalling his patrol to head back.
Wade turned back to his team, hunching his shoulders and giving an 'oops, sorry' expression to them before following the ghoul. Luck check failed.
"Oh. Smoothskins." The lead remarked having a closer look at Wade. "What are you doing down here? This is ghoul territory." He gestured to the rest of the patrol for emphasis.
Wade broke a nervous sweat, he kept his attention to the lead's eyes, hoping they wouldn't lock onto Gene in the weird getup.
"We're scavengers." Wade replied, the ghoul raised an eyebrow, briefly scanning over the group with an expression of disbelief but let Wade continue. "Well. I am at least. These guys are just there to provide extra firepower. You know what it's like up there."
(Charisma check failed)
"I don't actually." The mutant growled with a distasteful expression, he looked past Wade, locking his eyes on Gene and asked, "What's with ragskin over there?" Seemingly wanting to have asked earlier.
"Oh him?" Wade said looking back, trying to act earnestly, "He was a burn victim, can't stand sun or dust getting on his face. They were really bad burns." He whispered those last works quietly.
The ghoul looked suspiciously at him. "Funny thing," he said stretching his left shoulder, "His suit reminds me of someone I knew. He was a bastard, if I ever saw him again. I think I'd kill him."
Wade gulped and chuckled, "Well it's a good thing he ain't around. Be a shame if the noise attracted some unwanted company." He stared intently at the ghoul as he did otherwise. Tension filled the air as the two had a stare off with each other.
(Luck check passed)
Suddenly the tunnels filled with laughter from the two. "You're alright, smoothskin" he replied, Wade nodding in appreciation but the laughter was cut short. "Hey, how's about you boys stay with us for the night? Sewers get really nasty when its dark." His last line was clearly a joke but Wade sensed seriousness in his offer. Not good.
"Uh, we're really on a tight schedule so we can't really stick around and-"
"I wasn't asking." The ghoul interupted, it seemed there was no real way out of this.
"Well if you're insisting." Wade gestured ahead of him. "Lead the way." The ghoul nodded before signalling his patrol to head back.
Wade turned back to his team, hunching his shoulders and giving an 'oops, sorry' expression to them before following the ghoul. Luck check failed.
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"So, I finally get to see 'Nice', my wife had a lot of good things to say." Daniel said smiling. He really was excited to visit the city, he had a few people he wanted to thank for what they've done for his family. "Is Michael Alexander still around?" Daniel inquired to the lead ghoul. "How do you know Michael?" the ghoul asked, sounding slightly confused to hear this smooth-skin know a fairly respected member of their community. "My wife and I owe him a great deal of thanks for all he's done for us. I haven't seen him in almost 3 years though. Susan was one of his old trading friends." Daniel answered. The ghoul looked absolutely perplexed upon hearing that. Most smooth-skins were rude and prejudiced against his kind. He adjusted his taxi-cab yellow armor, thinking carefully.
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leonard267
FAKKU Non-Writer
Wade and Daniel sprung into action, though it is no longer the shooting and putting down of disfigured anthropoids and mutated equine organisms but rather dealing with ghouls using tact and diplomacy. It was the irony of ironies that Gene, the only ghoul in the team, was not able to help at all even though he would be the most familiar of their ways among the company.
While Wade managed to convince the ghouls not to kill them, the ghouls insisted on bringing them to their base of operations, most likely for questioning. He expected the team to be disarmed, interrogated and then serve as indentured labour for them, a euphemistic way of saying 'serving as slaves'. Perhaps the team should sneak away at the most opportune moment or take the ghouls down. (Never mind that they outnumber them 2 to 1, smooth skins are faster and stronger than ghouls)
That was when Daniel stepped in to curry favour with the ghouls talk about another ghoul acquaintance of his (and Gene's) called Michael Alexander. Gene, being over 2 centuries old had many dealings with man, ghoul and the occasional mutant. Gene knew Alexander of course, having struck deals with him that tended to benefit Gene. Not the best of friends but at least Alexander would not kill him on sight.
Upon hearing Alexander's name, their captors looked a bit taken aback quite alike the reaction when one asks another a question out of the blue like "How is your sex life?" (Gene had none) Gene wagered that they did not know or could not recall where Alexander was.
What can Gene do however? The best course of action for him to stay silent, let the rest of the team deal with their captors and convince them to set them free. So, as Daniel queried the ghouls, he stayed silent with his head wrapped with cloth quite alike a woman in the Middle East or South Asia 2 centuries ago.
While Wade managed to convince the ghouls not to kill them, the ghouls insisted on bringing them to their base of operations, most likely for questioning. He expected the team to be disarmed, interrogated and then serve as indentured labour for them, a euphemistic way of saying 'serving as slaves'. Perhaps the team should sneak away at the most opportune moment or take the ghouls down. (Never mind that they outnumber them 2 to 1, smooth skins are faster and stronger than ghouls)
That was when Daniel stepped in to curry favour with the ghouls talk about another ghoul acquaintance of his (and Gene's) called Michael Alexander. Gene, being over 2 centuries old had many dealings with man, ghoul and the occasional mutant. Gene knew Alexander of course, having struck deals with him that tended to benefit Gene. Not the best of friends but at least Alexander would not kill him on sight.
Upon hearing Alexander's name, their captors looked a bit taken aback quite alike the reaction when one asks another a question out of the blue like "How is your sex life?" (Gene had none) Gene wagered that they did not know or could not recall where Alexander was.
What can Gene do however? The best course of action for him to stay silent, let the rest of the team deal with their captors and convince them to set them free. So, as Daniel queried the ghouls, he stayed silent with his head wrapped with cloth quite alike a woman in the Middle East or South Asia 2 centuries ago.
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Vic followed the others in silence. It wasn't that he didn't have anything to say. It's just that everything involved 'fuck,' 'shit,' 'cocksucker,' 'bitch' or 'zombie.' In other words, it was best to let the others do the talking. Gene had the same idea, and he looked like a dumbass with his head wrap.
I guess this isn't too bad, Vic thought.
Daniel started going on about how thankful he was for some zombie-fuck or other. Vic hoped for his sake that it was just an act and that he wasn't getting to cozy with their new friends.
Make no mistake. The mutants before them were capable of talking like normal people, but that didn't make them a better alternative to the super mutants. If Vic had his choice, he'd rather be back up top taking his chances with the centaurs. At least they weren't smart enough to try to deceive prey. His hand went down to the empty holster on his leg by instinct. He corrected himself and gave the pistol at the small of his back a reassuring touch.
I guess this isn't too bad, Vic thought.
Daniel started going on about how thankful he was for some zombie-fuck or other. Vic hoped for his sake that it was just an act and that he wasn't getting to cozy with their new friends.
Make no mistake. The mutants before them were capable of talking like normal people, but that didn't make them a better alternative to the super mutants. If Vic had his choice, he'd rather be back up top taking his chances with the centaurs. At least they weren't smart enough to try to deceive prey. His hand went down to the empty holster on his leg by instinct. He corrected himself and gave the pistol at the small of his back a reassuring touch.
0
Wade walked somewhat among the patrol. The rest of the team, Daniel excluded, stuck behind where they wouldn't risk causing problems. On the other hand, Daniel had been chatting away with the lead about a certain person who apparently held some regard in the ghoul settlement they approached.
Somewhat nervous about what's to happen, Wade looked around until his eyes were caught onto his next door ghoul's rifle. "Shit. Mate, is that a T-21 Bullpup?" he queried, impossible to contain his excitement.
The ghoul looked puzzlingly at his piece, "If you say it is, smoothskin." He replied, trying to quickly dismiss conversation but Wade would not have it.
"Hot damn, thought I would never encounter one of these things. You know, the T-21 was an infamous rifle back in its time. It was developed in some country outside of the states but the people here loved it and wanted to get their hands on it."
He peered closer at the rifle as they kept pace. "Many of the models that were imported were converted for civilian use, namely rendering its full auto function disabled." His eyes widened, "But you mate, you've got yourself a military-grade model, complete with select firing from semi to auto. It's seen better days though.
The ghoul had a face of discomfort as Wade prattled on about the weapon that he had found just by sheer luck. "Oh, did you know? The T-21 was made with different variations, all serving a different tactical role. Like the MT-21 which was a carbine for-" A loud groan was heard as they continued down the sewers.
From the settlement gates which was positioned at an old flood gate for the sewers, the guards on duty could hear an unfamiliar voice approaching from the tunnel. Arms at the ready, they prepared to meet whatever came at them. They weren't prepared for what came.
"-is an excellent rifle, it was designed by the Finnish to replace an older Suomi Rk 62 which was based off the Russian Kalashnikova like my rifle here." He waved his modified machinegun to emphasize. "Now what's beautiful about this rifle is that it uses 7-by-39 mil ammunition, much more harder hit than a 56 but-"
The guards were shocked, a team of five unknown smoothskins accompanying their patrol. Seven of the ghouls looked rather exhausted, their heads hanged as they groaned in a low but sustained manner. If the guards hadn't recognized them, they could have taken them for ferals.
The lead stopped at the guards, accompanied next to him was Daniel, he made usual salutations before leaning closer to the guard to whisper in his ear.
(Perception check failed)
Wade was still too busy giving his incredibly long weapons history lecture to the rest of the patrol as the eighth slowly began to slouch, seemingly as if he were becoming a feral and Wade was the poison doing it.
Eventually he stopped as the lead turned back to make an announcement. "Boys. Smoothskins. Welcome to 'Nice'." Gesturing to the large sign above the gate, the name written boldly in molerat blood, it gave an imposing image but the glamour of the settlement lights was enticing enough for the team to follow the patrol in.
Wade scanned around the metropolis like landscape. "There must be some nice hidden gems around here" He thought to himself with a smirk, hoping to get time to run by a vendor or scavenger.
Somewhat nervous about what's to happen, Wade looked around until his eyes were caught onto his next door ghoul's rifle. "Shit. Mate, is that a T-21 Bullpup?" he queried, impossible to contain his excitement.
The ghoul looked puzzlingly at his piece, "If you say it is, smoothskin." He replied, trying to quickly dismiss conversation but Wade would not have it.
"Hot damn, thought I would never encounter one of these things. You know, the T-21 was an infamous rifle back in its time. It was developed in some country outside of the states but the people here loved it and wanted to get their hands on it."
He peered closer at the rifle as they kept pace. "Many of the models that were imported were converted for civilian use, namely rendering its full auto function disabled." His eyes widened, "But you mate, you've got yourself a military-grade model, complete with select firing from semi to auto. It's seen better days though.
The ghoul had a face of discomfort as Wade prattled on about the weapon that he had found just by sheer luck. "Oh, did you know? The T-21 was made with different variations, all serving a different tactical role. Like the MT-21 which was a carbine for-" A loud groan was heard as they continued down the sewers.
From the settlement gates which was positioned at an old flood gate for the sewers, the guards on duty could hear an unfamiliar voice approaching from the tunnel. Arms at the ready, they prepared to meet whatever came at them. They weren't prepared for what came.
"-is an excellent rifle, it was designed by the Finnish to replace an older Suomi Rk 62 which was based off the Russian Kalashnikova like my rifle here." He waved his modified machinegun to emphasize. "Now what's beautiful about this rifle is that it uses 7-by-39 mil ammunition, much more harder hit than a 56 but-"
The guards were shocked, a team of five unknown smoothskins accompanying their patrol. Seven of the ghouls looked rather exhausted, their heads hanged as they groaned in a low but sustained manner. If the guards hadn't recognized them, they could have taken them for ferals.
The lead stopped at the guards, accompanied next to him was Daniel, he made usual salutations before leaning closer to the guard to whisper in his ear.
(Perception check failed)
Wade was still too busy giving his incredibly long weapons history lecture to the rest of the patrol as the eighth slowly began to slouch, seemingly as if he were becoming a feral and Wade was the poison doing it.
Eventually he stopped as the lead turned back to make an announcement. "Boys. Smoothskins. Welcome to 'Nice'." Gesturing to the large sign above the gate, the name written boldly in molerat blood, it gave an imposing image but the glamour of the settlement lights was enticing enough for the team to follow the patrol in.
Wade scanned around the metropolis like landscape. "There must be some nice hidden gems around here" He thought to himself with a smirk, hoping to get time to run by a vendor or scavenger.
0
As they approached the gates Dr Windsor looked over at Gene, just in time for the ghoul to activate the stealthboy in his jacket pocket, vanishing from sight. Five clanking sounds accompanied by five short beeps were faintly heard (PER check of 6 to hear). Windsor froze, landmines, Gene just planted five landmines to cover his escape. (Daniel PER check successful) Daniel froze himself, planting his hand in the lead ghoul's shoulder. "Listen carefully, you can't move for a few minutes. Do you have any explosives experts here? There's a situation that needs to be diffused." Daniel said, accidentally letting his pain show through his voice. "Yeah, Mark can handle that sort of thing. Why? Are you a runaway slave or something?"
Gene smiled to himself as he slipped past the guards and went down a relatively unguarded access tunnel and headed up into the city. He had routes through NYSE territory, thin lines riddled with traps. He knew by tomorrow night he'd be in his stronghold.
Gene smiled to himself as he slipped past the guards and went down a relatively unguarded access tunnel and headed up into the city. He had routes through NYSE territory, thin lines riddled with traps. He knew by tomorrow night he'd be in his stronghold.
0
They were just outside the gates to Nice (it looked like crap, but Vic had seen worse) when Gene vanished into thin air. Vic was about to ask what the hell happened when it hit him. Stealthboy.
"Shit! Cocksucking bitch! I told you that motherfucking zombie would pull something again!" His outburst drew more than a few looks from the patrol.
Vic drew the pistol, thumbing the safety off. He made a run after the direction he thought Gene took off in, but he didn't get two steps when he heard the beeping noises.
"What was that about zombies?" someone asked from behind Vic. Vic suddenly remembered where he was: surrounded by ghouls toting machine-guns. He expected to get hosed down in a wall of lead. What he wasn't expecting was the punch flying at his face.
"No!" Daniel screamed, but it was too late. The punch connected sending Vic off balance. For several precarious seconds, he tottered on the brink of falling, hands waving in the air like a bird trying to take flight. [Agility Check Passed] He righted himself and heaved a sigh of relief.
"Shit! Cocksucking bitch! I told you that motherfucking zombie would pull something again!" His outburst drew more than a few looks from the patrol.
Vic drew the pistol, thumbing the safety off. He made a run after the direction he thought Gene took off in, but he didn't get two steps when he heard the beeping noises.
"What was that about zombies?" someone asked from behind Vic. Vic suddenly remembered where he was: surrounded by ghouls toting machine-guns. He expected to get hosed down in a wall of lead. What he wasn't expecting was the punch flying at his face.
"No!" Daniel screamed, but it was too late. The punch connected sending Vic off balance. For several precarious seconds, he tottered on the brink of falling, hands waving in the air like a bird trying to take flight. [Agility Check Passed] He righted himself and heaved a sigh of relief.
0
"Woah, that's pretty uncalled for Vic." Daniel started, "he betrayed us, again, yes, but don't you think that might offend every other ghoul here? They're just living life, and trying to protect their home." He drew breath to continue, but was cut off by the lead ghoul. "We knew it was Gene, we almost got him this time too." he said, sighing heavily. "You're not the first group he brought in with him. That bastard has been sending people through here the past few years, and if we didn't end them, he almost always did himself. Why do you think we didn't waste your bigoted friend there? No, we know the people he uses to get to his territory aren't bad people, just unlucky ones he can smooth talk his way into it. As long as he'sgone you're all fine with us. We're going to need to check your weapons here, and we'll keep you under watch, but you're free to go around NYSE however you like. Your doctor friend there can find work in our clinics and we can use your help with a little project we're going to be kicking off soon, the merc can talk with our security and the scavenger, well from the looks if it you wanted to go to the Soviet embassy. We cleared it out about a century ago, but if you're welling to trade or work we could see about getting you some of the gear we recovered. Welcome to NYSE" As he spoke a few ghoul soldiers disarmed and collected the landmines.
0
Nice was not the first ghoul community Vic had heard of, but it was the first he’d ventured into. It wasn’t half bad once he got past the fact that it was, well, a ghoul community. The metal sheet buildings were solidly constructed or appeared to be (Vic wasn’t much of a judge on building integrity). The fact that it was situated underground gave it added protection, but the narrow halls and tunnels to the surface created chokepoints that would make any evacuation chaotic at best.
All that aside, Vic had no intention of staying there. Fuck Gene. Fuck Nice. Fuck the others, and fuck Long Haul Caravans. They could take their 75 caps per diem and shove it where the sun didn't shine. However, he wasn’t about to run back out into the wastes unprepared. He needed more guns and bullets. He needed another goddamned razor too. Also, he was hungry.
He plopped down on a ragged old stool sewn up countless times at what served as a bar in the settlement. He dropped some of his upfront payment on the counter, letting the caps rattle. “What’s there to eat around here?” Vic asked.
“Our rat on a stick is fresh and nice and toasty,” the ghoul server said.
“Sure. I’ll take some water along with it. The closest thing you got to clean.”
“Coming right up.” The zombie wasn’t kidding when he said toasty. The thing was black as charcoal in some spots.
Vic was two bites into his rat when a ghoul sat down at the stool right next to him. He was one of the patrolmen from earlier. It was hard to tell since they all looked like horribly disfigured burn victims with cheap, moth-eaten wigs glued on, but there was no mistaking the yellow armor. The ghoul didn’t order anything. He stared at Vic, unflinching.
“What the hell you looking at freak?” Vic said around a mouthful of rat meat. “You want some of my ass?” He waved the backend of the roasted rat in the ghoul’s face, but he didn’t move. Vic gave up and tore another bite out.
“You’ve got quite the collection of scars,” the ghoul said.
Vic spit out a little wad of fat. “What’s it to you? You want a piece of me instead?” If Vic didn’t know better, he could have sworn the zombie’s lips snarled into a grin.
“I wonder how many of those scars are due to that big mouth of yours.”
Vic dropped the rat and slammed his hand down on the counter. He took a long swallow of water, leaving the cup empty. “Those are fighting words where I come from, freak bag.”
“And what hole do you come from?”
“Don’t recall. It doesn’t matter. I’ll take your ass right here, right now.”
“Fists only, no guns, no blades.” His reply came without thought. The ghoul was either an idiot or . . . no. The ghoul was just an idiot.
“You got yourself a--” Hands grabbed Vic before he could finish. They threw him out of the stool and onto his back. The zombie stood up.
“Is that the best you can do,” the ghoul said, cracking his knuckles.
Vic didn’t move. He lay where he fell, staring up and considering for the first time that the ghoul wasn’t an idiot, but an extremely confident and talented close-quarters combatant. Like it matters! I’m putting this zombie in his place!
“On your feet,” the ghoul said.
Vic spun, taking the ghoul’s legs out from under him. Vic rolled and climbed back to his feet, but by then, the ghoul had already done the same. Vic charged, bringing his fist back to strike. The ghoul blocked and followed up with a jab to Vic’s ribs. The son of a bitch hit hard. That one hit set his torso ablaze with pain, but it was nothing he couldn’t keep up with.
Brute force wasn’t going to get him out of this one. Vic tried to calm himself down and remember what the guys from his old gang had taught him. Look for an opening. Wait for your opponent to strike first. Watch for the telltale signs of an incoming punch.
The ghoul’s left elbow flared. Vic brought his arms up to block, but at the last second, the ghoul switched and struck the side of Vic’s face with a right hook. It all went to shit from there. Vic instinctively held his arms up to block another blow to the head, and the ghoul launched a flurry of attacks to his mid section, knocking the wind out of him. He sank to his knees, hands clutched to his chest.
“That was disappointing,” the ghoul said. “I thought you’d be a challenge.”
But Vic wasn’t done. He hefted a punch at the ghoul’s torso, catching him off guard and followed up with an uppercut that caught him square on the chin. Vic staggered back to his feet, raising a middle finger. “What now, bitch? Uh! It ain’t over til I--” The ghoul got in another hard hitting straight to the head. His arm moved so fast it was a blur. Vic’s vision exploded into white. When it cleared up, he was looking at the ceiling again.
“Not bad, Fingers” the ghoul said, raspy voice tinged with amusement. That annoyed Vic to no end.
“What did you say?” Vic asked, still on his back.
“Fingers. You get to call me †˜zombie.’ So I get to call you something in return, don’t I?”
“They call me Vic, jackass. Not Fingers.”
“Ah, but Vic is what you want to be called. I do not want to be called †˜zombie,’ though truth be told, it doesn’t bother me as much as some of the others around here.”
“Then what gives, zombie?”
“We cannot choose what others call us.”
Vic was not in the mood for a lesson on racism at the moment. “Look, don’t take this personally. It’s just . . . I hate zombies. As a matter of principle, I hate mutants in general. I hate most people as well.”
“You’re a man full of hate.”
“Isn’t it the one thing not in short supply in the wastes? That and radiation?”
“Take it from someone who’s been around a bit longer. There’s more out there than that. If you’re an ass to everyone, they’ll return the favor.”
Vic said after a few seconds of silence, “Where’d you learn to fight like that anyway?”
“I was a boxing instructor before the war. Don’t get too hard on yourself. You really had no chance.”
“Oh, thanks. That really cheers me up, zombie.”
“We could use more men like you around here, Fingers.”
Vic sat up, wincing. “I don’t wanna hear it. I’m leaving as soon as possible.”
“There’s a plot of a land nearby called Central Park. We were looking to take it, but we need more able hands, and yours will do just fine, short on fingers as they are.”
“I said I’m not interested.”
“In exchange for your help, we’ll give you Gene.”
“How many times do I have to . . . continue.”
All that aside, Vic had no intention of staying there. Fuck Gene. Fuck Nice. Fuck the others, and fuck Long Haul Caravans. They could take their 75 caps per diem and shove it where the sun didn't shine. However, he wasn’t about to run back out into the wastes unprepared. He needed more guns and bullets. He needed another goddamned razor too. Also, he was hungry.
He plopped down on a ragged old stool sewn up countless times at what served as a bar in the settlement. He dropped some of his upfront payment on the counter, letting the caps rattle. “What’s there to eat around here?” Vic asked.
“Our rat on a stick is fresh and nice and toasty,” the ghoul server said.
“Sure. I’ll take some water along with it. The closest thing you got to clean.”
“Coming right up.” The zombie wasn’t kidding when he said toasty. The thing was black as charcoal in some spots.
Vic was two bites into his rat when a ghoul sat down at the stool right next to him. He was one of the patrolmen from earlier. It was hard to tell since they all looked like horribly disfigured burn victims with cheap, moth-eaten wigs glued on, but there was no mistaking the yellow armor. The ghoul didn’t order anything. He stared at Vic, unflinching.
“What the hell you looking at freak?” Vic said around a mouthful of rat meat. “You want some of my ass?” He waved the backend of the roasted rat in the ghoul’s face, but he didn’t move. Vic gave up and tore another bite out.
“You’ve got quite the collection of scars,” the ghoul said.
Vic spit out a little wad of fat. “What’s it to you? You want a piece of me instead?” If Vic didn’t know better, he could have sworn the zombie’s lips snarled into a grin.
“I wonder how many of those scars are due to that big mouth of yours.”
Vic dropped the rat and slammed his hand down on the counter. He took a long swallow of water, leaving the cup empty. “Those are fighting words where I come from, freak bag.”
“And what hole do you come from?”
“Don’t recall. It doesn’t matter. I’ll take your ass right here, right now.”
“Fists only, no guns, no blades.” His reply came without thought. The ghoul was either an idiot or . . . no. The ghoul was just an idiot.
“You got yourself a--” Hands grabbed Vic before he could finish. They threw him out of the stool and onto his back. The zombie stood up.
“Is that the best you can do,” the ghoul said, cracking his knuckles.
Vic didn’t move. He lay where he fell, staring up and considering for the first time that the ghoul wasn’t an idiot, but an extremely confident and talented close-quarters combatant. Like it matters! I’m putting this zombie in his place!
“On your feet,” the ghoul said.
Vic spun, taking the ghoul’s legs out from under him. Vic rolled and climbed back to his feet, but by then, the ghoul had already done the same. Vic charged, bringing his fist back to strike. The ghoul blocked and followed up with a jab to Vic’s ribs. The son of a bitch hit hard. That one hit set his torso ablaze with pain, but it was nothing he couldn’t keep up with.
Brute force wasn’t going to get him out of this one. Vic tried to calm himself down and remember what the guys from his old gang had taught him. Look for an opening. Wait for your opponent to strike first. Watch for the telltale signs of an incoming punch.
The ghoul’s left elbow flared. Vic brought his arms up to block, but at the last second, the ghoul switched and struck the side of Vic’s face with a right hook. It all went to shit from there. Vic instinctively held his arms up to block another blow to the head, and the ghoul launched a flurry of attacks to his mid section, knocking the wind out of him. He sank to his knees, hands clutched to his chest.
“That was disappointing,” the ghoul said. “I thought you’d be a challenge.”
But Vic wasn’t done. He hefted a punch at the ghoul’s torso, catching him off guard and followed up with an uppercut that caught him square on the chin. Vic staggered back to his feet, raising a middle finger. “What now, bitch? Uh! It ain’t over til I--” The ghoul got in another hard hitting straight to the head. His arm moved so fast it was a blur. Vic’s vision exploded into white. When it cleared up, he was looking at the ceiling again.
“Not bad, Fingers” the ghoul said, raspy voice tinged with amusement. That annoyed Vic to no end.
“What did you say?” Vic asked, still on his back.
“Fingers. You get to call me †˜zombie.’ So I get to call you something in return, don’t I?”
“They call me Vic, jackass. Not Fingers.”
“Ah, but Vic is what you want to be called. I do not want to be called †˜zombie,’ though truth be told, it doesn’t bother me as much as some of the others around here.”
“Then what gives, zombie?”
“We cannot choose what others call us.”
Vic was not in the mood for a lesson on racism at the moment. “Look, don’t take this personally. It’s just . . . I hate zombies. As a matter of principle, I hate mutants in general. I hate most people as well.”
“You’re a man full of hate.”
“Isn’t it the one thing not in short supply in the wastes? That and radiation?”
“Take it from someone who’s been around a bit longer. There’s more out there than that. If you’re an ass to everyone, they’ll return the favor.”
Vic said after a few seconds of silence, “Where’d you learn to fight like that anyway?”
“I was a boxing instructor before the war. Don’t get too hard on yourself. You really had no chance.”
“Oh, thanks. That really cheers me up, zombie.”
“We could use more men like you around here, Fingers.”
Vic sat up, wincing. “I don’t wanna hear it. I’m leaving as soon as possible.”
“There’s a plot of a land nearby called Central Park. We were looking to take it, but we need more able hands, and yours will do just fine, short on fingers as they are.”
“I said I’m not interested.”
“In exchange for your help, we’ll give you Gene.”
“How many times do I have to . . . continue.”