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Blood and Steel pt 3

 
JeassiahBlack's picture
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Jessiah sat in her car eyeing the skid marks on the road and the broken remains of a car not to far away into the tree line, the wisp of smoke rising gave about the only indication that the wreck was more recent than any of the other wrecks strung out on the road or anywehere for that matter in this region. She debated what to do for only a few moments before angling her own car and flipping on the lights of her car to better light the area around the other wreckage. A few of the smaller scavengers that remained in the area took off in a hurry with the brighness of the lights now showing more details of the wreckage than was seen under the shadows of the forest normally.

She opened the door of her car and got out, but not without reaching for her shot gun that hung from the gun rack mounted overhead, taking a moment to rack a round into the chamber and ensure that the safety was off. She almost laughed at the thought that Reavy would kick her ass if she allowed herself to get nibbled on by some oppertunistic critter out here almost in the middle of nowhere. Another glance around to assure herself that it was safe enough to movve, she started towardsthe other car to examine it in closer detail, first taking note that it was one of the older model cars that would catch little interest of most clones or even some one lifers, but for the fact that it had run before the accident and did indeed look like it was well taken care of made it worth the time to investigate. Not to mention, as she reminded herself, 'I need car parts of any kind for the garage and I'll be damned if I let this oppertunity slip by me.'

Further walking around she saw just how mangled the front half of the car was. Another thought comes to mind as she considered how much she might be able to recover from the front end, 'Tree vs car, tree wins every time, silly sod.' Glancing back she narrowed her eyes for a moment to consider the length of the skid marks and how far off the road to the tree the car had actually went. She shrugs and figures that if the impact alone didnt kill the driver outright, then the shredded side and top of the car where something obviously very hungry ripped into the shell of the car to get at the driver obviously finished the job. The driver door she had noticed was a total loss, something very large and strong wanted in that car to get to body and that made her doubly glad she brought a Hellfire shotgun with her instead of the usual double barrel that would have hung in the gun rack.

She made her way to teh passenger side of the car to look it over from the outside before she reached for the door handle and then raised an eyebrow at the resistance. She hmphed as she forgot for a moment the impact from the tree would have done more than devistated the front end, of course the doors would be jammed closed, which ment either she goes in through a window or she approached the ruins of the driver side. And considering the ammount of blood and scarps over there, she was not very willing to do that, not to mention breakfast from that morning was in compleat agreement with teh concept of staying down and not going near that side of the car yet, at least not until she hit that side with a power washer. Ah fuck it. she thought and took aim. The crack of thunder spoke from the shotgun and the passenger side window simply was no more.

She had just reached through the ruined window and pulled out the papwerwork from the glove box when she heard another noise that was as out of place in the woods as the shot gun blast was, that of another vehical approaching the area. Quickly stuffing the papers inside a pocket of her vest, she racked another round into the chamber then reached down to unsnap the stays on both revolvers she wore as well, just in case. And then settled in to wait and see who was coming down the road. This is my damn claim, I'll be damned if I'm letting some one else have it. She thought.

Comments

Joe Spivey's picture

((Triple A maybe? Nah, perhaps not.

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

Hyle Troy's picture

((  hmm.. Pity she didnt have time to look under the carpet in the boot.. Vodka there !

I would rather die peacefully in my sleep, like Grandad, than screaming, like his passengers

JeassiahBlack's picture

(( All things in good time. At least some one remembers J's drink of choice.

JeassiahBlack's picture

The rumbling of the other vehical seemed to take forever to jessiah before she saw what it was, an old beat up truck. The fact that it looked to be even older than the wreck of the car she was crouched behind and it was still running made her think of some old entertainment program called Beverly Hillbillies. She shook her head for a moment and let the slight smile fade as she watched the truck slow down abruptly at the sight of her own DMC on the road. Still she waited quietly and out of immidiate sight until the other truck fully stopped and two men climbed out.

To say they were rough looking in both appearance and facial features was an understatement. Nothing about both men seemed to really inspire her confidence, especially the way they were eyeing her car first, then over towards the wreckage. Just as one of them was reaching back into the truck, she stepped out and leveled her Hellfire at them and spoke clearly, surprising both men, "Put yer han`s where ah can see em clearly. This no robbery, but ah dun know who yee are and let's take no chances, aye?"

They sputtered at first before the one who was the passenger of the truck spoke, "Ah, allright. But, thats my car ya see that, came to get it."

"Yeah righ`, an yee were the driver `fore the crash, neh?", she replied, still keeping the shotgun leveled at the men, watching them carefully. The driver stepped away from the door with his hands up, looking at her with slightly widened eyes, the other man though seemed a bit calmer in spite of having a weapon aimed directly at him.

"Of course." he drawled, then glanced over at his partner and stepped away from the other side of the truck as well.

"Ah, so ka. An yer name is, Ser?"

"Marshal, Adam Marshal."

"Ah see, pleased ta meet yee Ser Marshal, how ever, ahv'e ta ask, how'd yee walk away from dis wreck wit nary a scracth on yee, eh?", Jessiah said clearly, keeping her eyes on the men as they seemed to slowly drift apart from the truck. She didnt let it show on her face, but she had an idea already of what they were trying to do and was willing to given them a few more feet of rope to hang themselves with as it were.

"Well, you see, was by purest luck when I saw I was loosing control, I jumped out of the car before it hit the tree. Got lucky and landed in a nice thick pile of leaves over yonder."

"Ahhh, much luck yee `ave indeed. "However...Ah do need ta check something first, yee can understan`?"

"Of course, We do undestand." he said with a blooming smile.

She almost snoted at that expression, he must think she was not paying attention to his partner any more as she reached with one hand into her vest to pull out the papers she removed from the car already. She took a moment to glance at the papers and knew what she was looking at and the name on the paper before stuffing it back into her vest pocket. She almost sighed then brought her other hand back up to the shot gun and swung it from the man she'd been talking to over towards his partner and pulled the trigger. The sharp thunder of the weapon spoke for the second time that day, obliterating the poor tree off to the left of the driver, pelting him with wooden fragments even as he was starting to pull out a small revolver, startled enough by the unexpected shot and the tree exploding several feet to his left. He yelped and not only dropped the gun he was going for,but also dropped himself to the ground yelling incomprehensibly.

She swung the shotgun back at 'Mr Marshal' and narrowed here eyes behind the dark shades she almost always wore when out in the day light. While he might not see the anger in her eyes because of those shades, he could see the set expression of her face and knew they screwed up big time, he quickly held his hands out and upwards and started to stutters excuses when she silenced him.

"Shut the farking hades up, 'Mr Marshal' though ah seriously doubt that is yer real name. You two shitwits mus` think ah'm that stupid. Maybe this woulda worked on some other poor sot, but yee fucked up now. An while I dun do name droppin often, perhaps Reavy would be mos` interested in what happened here. Yee heard o`er name, no?"

The deathly white expression was all the confirmation she needed to know that the man had indeed heard of reavy and knew her reputation across the entire province. She flicked her shotgun off to the side back towards the way them men had come from. "Take yer fuckwit friend wit yee and run. Dun even bother wit yer truck, jus` go `fore ah change me mind and do the job for `er."

She watched both men for a good long while as the stubled and ran for all their worth down the road, not caring if they actually could make it back to any form of safety. She was certain in her mind that clone or not, they would have tried to kill her and take everything she had as well as steal the salvage claim she found. That the man clearly was not one Henning Mortensson when he gave her a false name was one matter, but she saw the ammount of blood and knew he'd lied about bailing out of the car as well. Once she was absolutely certain they were well and truely gone, and not going to try something even more stupid like doubling back on her did she reach for the stud on her collar to put out a radio call.

"Hey Dale, got a job fer yee. Bring yer heavy truck an the flat bed too. Track on me locator ah'm turning on now."

Once she was done with the simple call, knowing the guys who ran the local tow services would be here soon, she looked back at the wreck of the car in the forest, then at the beat up truck and thought to herself, "Not too bad after all, two for the price of one. Should be good enough for now." and turned her thoughts to Hope Springs and maybe surprising two ladies with a really nice night if they were home when she got there.

Joe Spivey's picture

((Ahhh the wasteland, where whatever isn't bolted down belongs to who gets there first. And if they have a wrench...

Nice epilogue

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

Hyle Troy's picture

( Adding to the province  salvage supply, and donating himeslf as bear-lunch...  "I had pickled Mortensson for lunch, it was tasty but leaves me feeling light headed. Like I was drunk !"

I would rather die peacefully in my sleep, like Grandad, than screaming, like his passengers



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