Wasteland
Wasteland: Part 1; Seeker
The woman lay on her stomach watching the road. Her lips were dry and her mouth felt like the desert. Her water supply had run out the previous evening and now she was beginning to feel the effects of dehydration. The rock she was laying next to provided some comfort as the sun had begun to set again casting a nice shadow over her. She swallowed the near nothing in her mouth and sighed a little. In a few hours she would have to get moving again, it would be dark then. She was relatively camouflaged sitting there next to the rock. Though her pure white fingers -the rest of the paw was inside fingerless gloves- and a bit of her face not covered by a hood were visible. Over the rest of the body was a cloak that she had picked up somewhere along the way. It was tan like the sand she was laying on. Her gear was laying aside her, underneath the cloak next to her feet. At her side, under the cloak, lay her rifle. The man had called it an EBR something, something. Simi-auto with a fold out bipod and a 5x to 15x scope. Though this weapon was hidden currently it was painted jungle camo colors, not too helpful in a desert. She gave a light yawn and slapped her cheeks for a moment, talking to herself lowly. "Faye, get a grip..." the lynx looked about for a moment, her pinkish eyes watching the horizon. She heard something and adjusted under the cloak to listen a little better, it sounded like a motor. Pulling the simi-auto rifle from under its covering she peered into the scope for a moment when she spotted it. A dune buggy. Her heart leapt in her chest as she spotted it coming closer. The bike she had been using had broken down 4 days ago and she lacked the technical knowledge to fix it... so it was on the side of the road somewhere. The buggy cruised slowly down the dilapidated road but stopped about 100 yards from where she lay. Three men got out stretching. She watched them through the scope on the rifle. Two of them branched off and headed to the rear of the little buggy, taking a large sack and tossing it to the ground. The sack moved. A living person was in that sack and Faye wondered what they were going to do. One of them ordered the other two around as they brought out a baseball bat and a pair of round metal weapons of some sort. She looked away as they began to hit the sack ruthlessly. Her eyes opened and she slapped the bipod down, aiming. No one would care if she killed these wretches. She aimed at the 'leader'. The recoil of the gun was relatively small and she handled it easily. A pop as the propor chemical compositions reacted as they should to shoot the red hot piece of metal towards its victim. Her crosshairs at 100 yards were more or less dead on and so the bullet took the man in the neck. His head snapped to the side and he dropped. The other two looked around stupidly as she shot again, this time aiming at the one to his right. He died in a little splash of gore when the bullet took him in the head. The other ran and she pulled herself to a kneeling position, aiming down the scope. Her eyes narrowed as she pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession. Dual shots rang clear. One missed, the other however took the man in the hip. He fell with a yell that even she could hear. Leaning the rifle on her leg her paws moved to the dual clips that held her cloak to her shoulders. Her thumbs and forefingers pressing hard to get them undone so the cloth could fall behind her. She turned and laid the rifle down on this so it wouldn't get dirty. Without the cloak to cover her features the lean Lynx came fully into view. The vest she was wearing was what the merchant had called a 'tactical vest' covered with a number of pockets for different things. Right now it carried a pair of magazines for the rifle. Underneath this vest she wore a white short sleeved shirt, though it was dirty with many different stains. She was wearing tan cargo pants with a belt tightly around her slender waist. Hanging around her hips she wore what looked like a regular cowboy gun belt, a large revolver holstered on her right hip hanging where her hand when relaxed would lay on her hip. Ammo for the revolver lined the belt as well as a speed loader clipped near her left hand. Just behind the revolver hung a machete, sheathed in leather. She disliked wearing shoes but her heavy steel toed boots clumped along the pavement as she made her way over to the downed men. She could feel the sun beating down on her back and she pulled her tented goggles from there resting place on her brow over her eyes, releasing her overgrown bangs from there elastic containment. She was breathing deeply after only 50 yards, the effort beginning to get to her under the sun. She would be sweating if she had moisture to spare in her body. Her main hope was that they had water; other things were below this in importance right now. She approached the 75 yards mark and her paw reached down to unholster the revolver on her hip. Her tongue moved from her mouth to lick over her lips despite the lack of spit to wet them. She paused passing over the scar she'd received several months ago; Crossing over her lips in a line. Shrugging she approached the buggy, as well as a groan. Her paw squeezed lightly on the grip of the weapon. She's bought this one herself awhile ago, it was familiar and she had had it a long time ago. A smith and Wesson model 90 .44 magnum. She looked to the sack, it wasn't moving and she nudged it with her foot. No response or movement, it was dead. She heard a groan again and headed towards the running man. He was crawling slowly away from her leaking plenty of blood. His left leg didn't seem to be moving properly either. She moved in front of him and pointed her gun at his face. He sputtered something about not shooting him as her finger smoothly pulled the trigger and the usual thump of the heavy caliber's recoil shot up her arm. He was dead in a moment his protests lost in the report. The .44 dropped smoothly back into its holster with little sound and she made a mental note to clean it and the EBR later. She turned and looked at the buggy. If anything she knew it worked and slowly approached keeping her eyes open. Looking down into the storage compartment she blinked her mouth opening a little. Two large jugs of water lay on the bottom. She reached down and took one of the gallons into her paw, shaking it some as if to see If it were indeed real. She popped the cap and tilted it back, taking a few sips. It felt so good falling down her throat that she smiled widely and laughed some turning around and leaning on the wheel well of the buggy to close to her eyes and look to the sky a moment. She wanted to drink more, and aloud herself a few more sips. She knew she couldn't just drink the whole thing like she wanted as she would most definitely get sick. Sighing lightly, it was beginning to get warm but that didn't matter. Laying the jug down again and turned to look at her deed. Three dead and the probably dead sack person. There wasn't any reason not to loot everything she felt like she could use and so she proceeded to do just that. Taking about 30 minutes for the three of them she had their things sitting on the still hot pavement. All in all they had two handguns a pair of what looked like baretta style simi-auto's with 45 rounds of ammunition between the two of them. The leader had a shotgun, its stock sawed down to just a makeshift pistol grip and the barrel sawed low as well, with 21 shotgun shells. He also had a custom holster and she fit it onto the other leg. She'd looted several knives and a compass off of them as well. Inside the truck, besides the two gallons of water, was a bunch of beef jerky and another 5gallon jug full of gasoline. It was beginning to get darker and she lifted the goggles from her eyes again pinning back the mass of bangs to look around. The temperature was dropping quickly as well, seeing as the sun was going down. She sat down on the warn seat inside the buggy and leaned into the mostly flattened cushions. A slow smile spread to her face and she closed her eyes a moment, basking in light warmth. She loved just before dark in the desert but she needed to get going. She reached around the wheel and took the metal of the key into her fingers and turned it over. It had a full tank of gas and all the right lights were lighting up. The buggy was automatic and that was fine with her as she shifted it into drive and let it coast towards the rock she had been under earlier in the day. The buggy was basically bare, only having its frame left. No windshield, though its rear view mirror still hung awkwardly from its post in front of her. She stopped for her things, and set them in the back seat of her new vehicle, letting it idle while she did. She sat back down in the drivers' seat and looked down the road. She looked over the simple dash and finally spotted what she was looking for. Headlights, they flared up after she flipped the switch. Not too bright but enough to see if she was going to hit anything that might damage or disable the buggy. Her foot touched the accelerator and she smiled feeling the engine pushing power into the rear tires and propelling her forward. She went to about 50 miles and hour and just held it there. The wind blew in her hair and she still felt warm on her face, arms and hands despite the cold night air, she knew she was a little burnt and wondered what it would look like if she managed a tan. For a moment she let herself go, one paw hanging over what was left of the door and the other on the wheel. She felt a million miles away from death, from the nuke's and the bandits. A day passed without much issue and she was starting to feel healthier again, the water doing much, rehydrating as well as cooling her down. There food helped as well, if a bit too salty. Her reddish eyes searched the horizon for the settlement she had been heading towards. It was her best lead in finding who she was looking for. Midday had come and past and she still hadn't seen it. Finally as the sun was setting beautifully over the horizon she crested a hill and before her spread a fairly good sized settlement. Buildings and houses made out of any materials. Neon signs and lights were on. They had electricity. She smiled lightly, they seemed better equipped then she had been led to believe before. She rolled into the little town and was greeted by men wearing similar colors, a uniform maybe. One held up a hand indicating she should stop. She did. "Yes?" her voice cracked a little, she hadn't used it much in the last week. "This is a no-fire settlement" the man told her. He looked middle-aged, the brown over black colorings making him look like a Rottweiler in the low light. "You can have your weapons here but don't shoot anyone..." obviously he was an enforcer of some type and carried an assault rifle of some make over his shoulder. "I got it" she told him with a little nod and the rot visibly relaxed as he waved her through the checkpoint. She pulled in and turned down a busy street, several vehicles like hers were parked in a lot next to a neon sign reading 'Vacancy' and the word 'Hotel' painted next to it. She parked and took the key with her. Not liking the idea of leaving all of her things in plain sight she frowned and covered them all up with her cloak in the back. She would be back to get them after getting a room. The inside was musty and smelled of slightly rusted metal but otherwise not horrible. Looking around she saw a rather fat feline of some sort reading what looked like a magazine. She approached the counter and looked at him. "Hello..." she ventured. "how many nights?" he asked without looking up. "Two..." she told him then quickly added. "For now" The feline looked up at her and gave her his probably usual hamburger shop smile. "Ok, money or trade?" he asked setting aside the magazine, it turned out to be a comic book. She fished out one of the beretta handguns and laid it onto the table. "This and 15 more rounds of ammo." She told him with a strait face. She knew the magazine could hold 15 but didn't have an extra to offer him. The male picked it up and took a look, ejecting the magazine and looking at that as well before responding. "Ok, two nights - " Faye interrupted him. "And information" "Depends on the information" "I'm looking for someone" the lynx was fishing in her pocket for a moment. After a moment she pulled out a faded old looking photo. "Have you seen her?" she held it up to the light near him. Two people stood in the photo, one obviously being the white furred lynx. The other being a snow leopard just a little shorter and hanging off her arm, laughing lightly. The male looked up from the picture...