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Post by 9idrr on May 5, 2020 21:07:37 GMT -6
Here's hopin' it's the right plan, or at least not too wrong.
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Post by texican on May 6, 2020 1:14:09 GMT -6
Amanda off to the resuce.
Way to go CM.
Texican....
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Post by castleman on May 6, 2020 13:45:50 GMT -6
Amanda crossed the open space, walking slowly and cradling the crowbar in her hands, as she walked and nobody began screaming and yelling at her the moment she saw someone in the distance, she knew it was working. As she approached the building from the southern side, she saw that much like the front it was simply a brick built structure with no windows along the side, slowly, she turned and walked towards the back, only to see wooden boards from crates hastily boarding up the windows.
She frowned hard and continued her slow walk, looking across at the wide open field on her right that was used for sporting events and festivities. It was here that the town’s vehicles had been moved, with some obviously pre-plague vehicles sat parked up and ready to go. Some were vans and a couple were cars, they’d all been loaded up with items, food, tools, clothing, even jewelry.
She held the crowbar in her hands, turning it over slightly, could she do something about the tyres perhaps? Stop their ability to move around? She jammed the crowbar into the tyre and pulled a little, it caused a hole to form on the side wall and began to leak air slowly.
She repeated this for as many vehicles she could find that were filled with stuff stolen from the town, sweat poured off of her in the warm summer heat. She could feel her hair getting sticky too. Perhaps there was something in shaving your head like this group did.
After she finished with the last vehicle she rose and stood up fully, her knees and arms ached, but she felt satisfied, having at least done something.
When she looked back to the village hall and its old pressed concrete rear she saw one window still unboarded and open slightly.
She quickly walked across to the window only to see someone looking out.
“Despicable pigs.” The old woman said and gestured rudely to her.
“No, I’m not with them, see?” She pointed to her badgeless waistcoat and then took her hat off to reveal her copious blonde hair bundled away. “I need to talk to a guy in green who’s in there, and my mother. She's a blonde like me. He’s wearing overalls with Welch’s auto on it.”
The old woman glared at her, then vanished from the window into the gloom of the building.
Welch and her mother appeared at the window, Siohban seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
“Mum! Are you all ok?” Amanda asked as she stepped close to the window and held her hand up to the window pane.
“We’re… ok, just…” Siobhan trailed off and placed her hand against the glass. “These men are Dangerous, Amanda. They… they killed the policemen here.”
“I know, I saw…” Amanda trailed off and shuddered again as she remembered the crow picking at the older one’s eyes.
“You have to get out of here.” Welch said as he stepped forward. “Listen, there’s another village a couple of miles further up the Canal, you and Emma need to get there, when you do, find the local bluecoat.” He began to tug at his patch on his overalls. “Get them to call Tutbury 521. Repeat the number back to me.”
“Tutbury 521?”
“That’s right, when they ask who you are, tell them. ‘Remember the Bluebells.’ Got it?”
“Remember the bluebells?”
Welch nodded. “The person at the other end of the phone will know what it means. They’ll get the help this place needs. So the Bluecoats don’t mess you about, take this with you. I’ve sold the local chief constable enough over the years.”
He threw his patch out of the window and down to Amanda who grabbed it from the concrete slab it fell on. “Will you guys really be ok?”
“Two armed guards on the door, and goodness knows how many others in the village?” Welch shook his head. “Better we stay put for now. You and Emma get to safety as quickly as possible. Don’t take the Canal or the river, they’re watching them, you’ll have to do some cross country hiking.”
“In those shoes?” Siobhan asked looking to Amanda and then back to Welch with a pained expression on her face. “Sweetie just get to safety, please?”
“I will mum, I’ll get you out of this.”
Amanda turned and headed back the way she came. She walked slowly and carefully, pretending to check places for, well, herself. She kept her distance from other members of the gang but began to keep a small headcount as she did so. She gave up when she feared she’d forget the phone number but it was somewhere around 30. They seemed to be spread out almost as random, but then they were searching for Emma and her.
She managed to get back to the Willow tree with only a couple of close calls in which her wild, distant gesturing seemed to work instead of answering questions.
Only to be immediately punched in the face, hard and knocked to the ground. The crowbar being snatched out of her hands and pressed against her throat by a furious looking Emma. It was only when she thrashed about a bit and knocked her own hat off that the blonde hair spilling forth caused the other woman to stop and leap back as if she were hit with a thousand volts of electricity.
“Oh my god, Amanda! I’m so, so sorry! I thought you were…”
Amanda coughed and retched a little bit before recovering a little. “Glad… it worked… too well.” She managed between spits and coughs.
“Did you find them? Did you find Harry? Are they all ok? Where are they?” Emma still held the crowbar in her hands, realised she did, and dropped it into the dry dirt with a thud. “Seriously, Amanda, I am so sorry but you looked so like them…”
Amanda held up a finger while she felt her cheek begin to swell and she finally got her breath back.
“They’re being held in the village hall. Welch said to head up the canal to the next town, talk to the bluecoats there. Gave me a number they have to call and a weird phrase? Something about bluebells.”
“Sounds like a code phrase. Like, spies used it before the world changed.” Emma ventured.
“You think Welch is a spy?”
“No, just must be someone he knows, ooh, perhaps they’re the spy?” Emma wondered aloud. “Anyway, we need to just get up the canal some, right?”
Amanda shook her head. “No, he said to not take the canal or river because they’re watching them. Is there another way?”
Emma paced for a bit.
“Well, there’s an abandoned town to the south, but… I heard bad things from scavengers about wild animal packs. But we’re kind of armed?” She picked the crowbar back up.
“Maybe we need more than just that? What about the fields?”
“Too open, and a lot of the ones not working become filled with brambles, awful stuff. One of the reasons I stopped being a farmhand was they kept making me clear those patches.”
“So we either get shot if we take the river or canal, cut to ribbons with brambles or maybe torn apart by packs of animals?” Amanda asked, putting her head in her hands.
“Sounds about right.” Emma replied.
“We could avoid the animals though, right?” Amanda asked.
“I guess.” Emma picked up the crowbar and offered her hand to Amanda. “We’d better get going, it’ll probably be dark before we get there at this rate.”
“South?” Amanda asked as she grabbed Emma’s hand and stood.
Emma nodded “Southwards.”
==============
They headed quickly along the riverbank, peeking up to the road level every so often to see where they were and where any mercenary thugs were patrolling. Seeing they hadn’t managed to find the two women so far, so instead the mercenaries had reorganised themselves and blocked off the bridge with an overturned farmers cart right in the mid span of the bridge and two mercenaries guarding it right over the River itself.
Both women swore when they saw this. It prevented them from escaping anywhere.
“There’s got to be another way across.” Amanda muttered as she sat down leaning against a tree, bushes screened them from the roadway, so a casual look wouldn’t bring up anything.
“Can you swim?” Emma asked.
“Uh… no.” Amanda replied. “Nowhere to learn, where I was.”
“Damn, ok… maybe if we searched around a little we might find a coracle or something.”
“I thought they’d taken all the boats?” Amanda looked up and down the bank.
Emma shook her head. “Fishermen and hunters use them all the time. They leave them near lucky or favourite spots. I doubt these guys would’ve thought to gather them, just the merchant boats. Plus they camouflage them, so you might not even spot them unless we look.”
Amanda slowly got back to her feet, her bag slid to one side and she adjusted it quickly before following Emma, who by now was pushing through reeds and looking at bushes and other bits of scenery. She picked up a fallen branch and began to poke and prod bunches of reeds and a bush. After walking nearly the whole way back along the river bank, a bush just away from the river made a funny thwump sound when she whacked it with the branch. Emma grinned and began pushing the bush away from the place she held her branch. There was a coracle, with reeds and other bits of detritus covering it to hide it from prying eyes. When she lifted it, a single oar was resting on the ground beneath it.
They both smiled at each other and quickly picked the coracle up, hauling it to the waters egde and setting it down.
“You get on, I’ll paddle.” Emma said breathlessly.
Amanda got into the coracle only to feel it spin and twirl under her and she clamped a hand to her mouth to stop her shrieking. Emma grabbed her shoulder and jumped into the coracle too, sitting them both onto the single seat and pushing the oar deep into the water.
The current took them and they began moving down the river towards the bridge where the two thugs would see them from their perch.
Amanda ducked low as they rounded the corner of the river and Emma pushed hard with the oar, they were getting closer to the opposite bank, but so was the bridge.
One last push from Emma saw them into the branches of a low, overhanging tree. Which Amanda hastily grabbed hold of and dug her feet into the bottom of the coracle to help hold it in place. Emma lifted the oar up, and made the jump to the reeds with a light splash. Scaring some ducks from their hiding place which caused a single mercenary to look out on the river. But when he saw the ducks quacking and arguing with each other he shrugged and turned back to looking at the road.
They pulled the coracle quickly to the shoreline and up into some reeds, breaking a few handfuls off between them and throwing them onto the bottom of the flipped over coracle.
They both ran across the nearby dirt driveway and headed behind a large brick built building, there were still a few cars here covered in muck and rust and half broken up for parts, they both hid behind the abandoned building and took a few breathes before they quietly laughed at each other.
“Oh god, I thought I was going to fall in and then you just leapt like a goat.” Amanda said as she laughed.
“Did you just call me a goat?” Emma said and glared at Amanda.
Amanda looked to Emma with a bit of a shocked face before Emma broke into a wide smile and bleated.
Amanda laughed and they both fell about giggling for a minute before they both began to gasp for breath and continued to sporadically laugh at the situation.
Emma wiped some tears from her eyes. “Aw man, I’m a goat.”
Amanda nodded before getting up and offering her hand to Emma. “Well come on, we haven’t goat all day.”
Emma laughed again and accepted the hand up. They had a long way to go.
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Post by texican on May 6, 2020 21:02:48 GMT -6
Emma and Amanda off to get help. Now, what could go wrong?
Thanks CM for the chapter.
Texican....
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Post by castleman on May 12, 2020 13:27:28 GMT -6
Safely past the mercenaries that had occupied the tiny town of Shardlow, Emma and Amanda used the roads to get away, moving quickly and quietly along tarmacked roads that had been half reclaimed by nature and only used to bring crops in from nearby fields which had been worked mainly by hand for nearly 20 years. A single deer wandered into the roadway, peered at them and trotted off seemingly unphased by the world.
They continued onwards before rising up a steep embankment, the road split in two and ran in a large ring across two bridges which crossed a dual carriageway. It too, was showing signs of neglect but unlike the other roads, was made with hardy concrete so only a few bits of grass stuck out of the slabs.
“Woah. Wide road.” Amanda remarked and looked up and down as they crossed the bridge.
“Yeah, they needed them, back before.” Emma remarked, looking too. “I remember being driven down one of these and we got stuck, think that was a long way south though. So many cars that we couldn’t move.”
“No way, really?” Amanda looked at the road trying to imagine so many of the cars on the road they’d be as if they were parked. “I think the most I ever saw were six? Seven? There was a big fire in one of the quarters once and they rushed the vehicles there to put it out and keep people calm.”
“Generation gap.” Emma said looking down at the road and smiling.
“Huh?” Amanda looked to the other, older woman.
“I know a bit of the world before the plague, Welch and your mum know a lot more, but you’ve only really known this world. Lot of people born now or were only kids during the collapse barely know that world.” Emma shrugged and carried on walking.
“Do you think they miss it?” Amanda asked as she quickened her pace to keep up with the taller Emma, her bag clanking a little.
“I know I do, my parents died of it. It’d be nice to get them back.” Emma smiled sadly.
They continued the rest of their journey in silence, following the roads cracked with weeds and grass.
The next town lay ahead, though this one was long abandoned. White warehouse rooves, long stained with the weather loomed large and further up the hill in the distance, tile rooves and stained windows watched mournfully.
The two women stood at a roundabout who’s neatly trimmed plants had been long turned to a messy urban jungle. Brambles and bracken spread all around them, leaving only a narrow channel wide enough for a cart or a single car to pass through.
“Which way do we go?” Amanda asked looking back and forth at the two roads forking off from us.
“I don’t know, I know the railway line is up there somewhere.” Emma pointed up the hill. “If we follow that, it’d get us to Weston.”
They turned to the left and headed Southwards up the hill towards the town. A sign stuck out of a bush that had grown thick and pushed it over slightly, “onnington” was the only part of the sign still visible through the growth.
Birds flitted in front of them and chirped in warning at this unusual intruder for them into their world. They reached a moment where the ground levelled out and the bushes thinned out completely on one side, instead there was a line of bricks in a wall.
Emma moved over to the wall and peered over it, standing slightly on her tiptoes to see over it.
Below them, between the lines of warehousing on either side was a thick cluster of brambles, bushes and thin growing ash and lime trees that created a thick, impossible maze to get through.
Emma tutted and shook her head as Amanda came over and looked over the wall too.
“That’s the rail line. This is a bridge.” Emma gestured to the younger girl. “But it’s way too thick to get onto the line here.” She shook her head. “We’ll have to go try and find it again further down.”
“How do we do that? You been here before?” Amanda asked as she looked at the streets near them.
“No, just know that Weston is that way.” She pointed at the long, narrow forest below them. “And that looks like a straight line.”
They turned right as soon as they were able to, their first two options looked like dead ends, and where there had been a road which had been covered in thick brambles and bush growth.
They finally settled on a route through a housing estate instead. It was somewhat passable compared to the other options. Houses, their darkened windowed eyes loomed down at them, and cars sat rusting and silent around them. Cars had been left where they had been parked up
“It’s really hard to believe all of these worked.” Amanda said as she peered at one car, then stepped away from it and looked at another. “Can’t even walk down the street without getting hit by one.”
Emma laughed. “Well back then you got taught not to walk down the middle like we do now.”
They continued along the road, each house half hidden by overgrown bushes, trees and some windows and doors were broken.
Birds continued to tweet at them as they carried on down the roadway. It like many other places were cracked in places, as they passed one large tree, however, the place changed and the homes had been gutted by fire. Home after home turned blackened and some rooves had even collapsed in on themselves, leaving the windows open to the skies.
“Guess this is why the fire engines get given priority.”
Emma nodded. “A lot of abandoned places are like this, fires start one way or another and nobody’s around to stop them.” She turned to the younger woman and continued. “It’s why-” Emma trailed off and tensed up. “Amanda…” She hissed through her teeth.
“I mean look at how it’s gutted this one! It’s half fallen over.”
“Amanda! We have a problem.” Emma whispered again.
Amanda simply tilted her head and looked to Emma who was staring wide eyed down the street the way they’d come.
A large dog had walked into the roadway and had dropped its head down to look at them, it growled and then howled. More dogs appeared from the sides, they were of different sizes and a generation or two ago might have been beloved family pets. The lead dog was some sort of staffordshire bull terrier
Now they were hunters in a pack. The Alpha took a few steps forward, its nose sniffing the ground before pricking its ears and raising its head in an alert snarl.
“Amanda, we’re going to have to run.” Emma grabbed her ankles and stretched her legs a little.
“I’m not good at running…” Amanda began as she slowly backed up, then looked at Emma and tried copying her.
“Going to have to learn on the go…” Emma grabbed Amanda by the strap of her bergen and broke into a run.
Amanda half ran and was half dragged by the older woman, her legs burned, he chest threw her off balance and the bag was causing her to fall backwards and it was only by her being dragged forward by Emma that was stopping her from falling over completely.
The dogs were slathering and bounding along after them, the Alpha howled and opened its jaws wide and snapped at Amanda’s heel. Swifter members of the pack began to come to either side of the two women, one lurcher like dog leapt at Emma, knocking her off balance, Amanda half dragged her down and they recovered in order to keep running.
Emma looked up, the end of the street was coming closer and closer, a house she saw two flashes, a pause, then two flashes again. She looked for the source and saw it was coming from a piece of mirror from a window. The white house sat on the corner of a cul de sac, untouched by the fire. It was still grimy from the blown soot. The light flashed again twice.
“Oh this is going to suck.” Emma moaned. “Amanda! Tuck your arms and legs in tight! We’re going to stop and drop down in three… two…”
On one both girls dropped down and Amanda pulled her legs in, but not before one of the dogs got a nasty bite on her left leg. She let out a scream of pain only for the dog to suddenly yelp. She clamped a hand over her mouth and could hear the rattle of a gun, the bullets whipped past her with a crack and a supersonic whistle. She could hear the skittering claws of the pack of dogs try and get away, but whimpers and thuds sounded.
Then, eerie and complete silence fell. It was total silence, no birds tweeting, no hum of bugs or other creatures. Amanda could feel shooting pains in her leg and finally opened her eyes to see the Alpha staring, jaw open and eyes glassy, a hole in its head. She let out a squeak of terror and scrambled to back away from it, only to find her hand flailing into the body of the lurcher that had tried to knock them over. Her hand came up bloody and she yelled in terror again.
Emma got up and brushed herself down slightly before offering a hand to Amanda. She looked at the younger girls leg and let out a gasp.
“Oh my god, did it take a chunk out? Are you ok?”
“I, I think so?” Amanada winced as she felt the warmth of the blood running down her leg. “Ok maybe not.”
The shooter emerged from the house and waved friendly before approaching. The rifle in their hands was brand new, and a banana shaped clip was attached to the bottom and a bolt has been oiled to a perfect sheen. A small scope was attached to the very top and the wooden furnishing of the rifle has been sanded and varnished to an almost artistic perfection.
They wore a simple set of clothes that was covered in loops that had the odd branch still sticking out of them. He was about Emma’s age, with hair shaved to his skull, a linen and canvas head covering hung from a loop at his belt which also had elements of twigs in them. It was a hunters suit, dyed green and covered in loops to hang branches and other debris from to break up their outline.
“You girls alright? I got a bounty to take out the pack and had been waiting days for them, guess I’m too good at erasing my presence for my own good.”
“I think my friend got bit.” Emma called back.
“Got bandages?” The hunter asked as he approached, Emma shook her head, the Hunter slung his rifle to his back and threw her a small hemp pouch with a cross on it. He then removed a knife from his belt. “Sorry, got to grab the ears.” And headed off to the pack.
Emma quickly applied some iodine to the bite mark, and then wrapped it with a linen bandage, tying it off tight for Amanda, who stood and wobbled a little, leaning on Emma for support.
The Hunter swiftly cut the ears off and put them into a hemp bag of his own and tied it to a loop on his suit. “Well, why you here anyways?” He looked to the two of them. “Certainly don’t look like prospectors.”
Emma filled him in briefly on the situation, he rubbed his chin with calloused fingers and nodded. “Right, best go back with you then. This way.” He nodded and walked off, with Emma and Amanda hobbling along in his wake.
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Post by texican on May 12, 2020 18:00:24 GMT -6
Emma and Amanda rescued by a young hero. Now off to the city.
Thanks CM for the chapter.
Texican....
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Post by 9idrr on May 12, 2020 21:32:32 GMT -6
Is he gettin' the ears for bounty or to fry up as snacks?
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Post by texican on May 13, 2020 17:10:44 GMT -6
Is he gettin' the ears for bounty or to fry up as snacks? 9, Dog ears even fried with gravy, would not make a good meal. Texican....
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Post by castleman on May 18, 2020 9:30:37 GMT -6
The trio walked along the roadway towards a warehouse that was near to the railway line, just beyond it the grey of the ballast and rusty metal of the line, cleared completely of any vegetation looked like a welcome relief to everything the two women had been through in the past few hours.
Amanda limped slightly as she leant on Emma for support, the hunter meanwhile wandered along ahead, his rifle casually slung on his back and the bag of ears on his belt now faintly stained with blood.
“It’s about two miles, are you going to be ok?” The Hunter, George, asked. “I could run ahead, get some help?”
“No, no, let’s keep going, we’ve got to get to Weston, as quickly as possi-” Amanda felt her leg give out under her and she yelped in pain.
The hunter looked back and stopped. “Your legs pretty badly hurt, ok, Emma, can you use a rifle?”
“Uh, kind of? Lighter than yours I think. When I used to be a farm hand they’d have me sometimes on watch to keep an eye out for predators.”
George paused for a moment and then unslung his rifle and handed it to Emma before crouching slightly and holding his hands out behind him. Amanda limped and then jumped slightly as he lifted her with ease.
“There, it should make things easier.” George said, Emma simply grinned as Amanda had turned beet red and half buried her face away from the grinning older Woman.
They resumed their walk, turning from the roadway onto the scrubland which occupied the space between the roadway, the warehouse and the railway line ahead of them.
“So tell us about yourself, George.”
“Oh, you know, the usual.” George began. “Did my two years Yeomanry Service to the Duke, got a nice little small holding at a village a couple of miles away, but I prefer hunting so I rent the fields.”
“Wow, property and work at your age?” Emma said with a sly grin. “You must have the women after you.”
George shrugged a little, causing Amanda to squeak slightly. “Oops, sorry.”
“No, it’s ok.” Amanda replied. “How about you guys? Aside from daring adventures to save your friends?” George asked.
“I work for a salvager, Mr Welch. I’m also kind of his fiance.” Emma said with a smile.
“That’s nice, how about you Amanda?”
“Uhm, well, we’re kind of running from the Emergency Administration.” Amanda said. “They’re after my mum.”
“Huh, bad shout that.” George said as he adjusted Amanda’s weight a little bit before resuming his walk. “I think we’re very lucky out here, law can be harsh sometimes but it's usually safer than most I’ve heard of.”
“Says the man who goes hunting ravenous dogs?” Amanda raised her head.
“That’s nature, not people. You find ravenous dogs, lions, cheetahs, all sorts of dangerous animals all over.”
“No law worse than harsh law then?” Amanda looked upwards at the massive warehouse they were passing, some of the roof had fallen in and a few birds flitted in and out of the hole to fly high above them.
“Well, no law leads to what you tell me is happening over in Shardlow right now. I got friends and customers in Shardlow.” George frowned a little.
They reached the railway bridge and the line without any further incident and found the trackbed clear of weeds and undergrowth.
“They were clearing the track this way when things happened in the Peak District and folks got moved north, not been back since. They offered me land that way, but after all that happened, I picked a smaller plot down here.” George carried on as Emma and Amanda listened. “I got to the end of my Yeomanry stint after the battle of Matlock last year.”
“I have no clue where all those places are.” Amanda said sheepishly.
“We’ll get you a map.” Emma replied with a chuckle.
They could see the rising plumes of smoke from fires and civilisation in the distance, the little village of Weston On Trent was now a straight line walk away.
=====================
The doors of the village hall crashed open. Rich, the shaven haired thug with no teeth looked around the room furiously, then grabbed one of the villagers, a young woman with long black hair and wide, hazel eyes and pressed the sword against their throat, her husband let out a shout of dismay but stopped when he saw the first ruby red drops of blood slide down the blade.
“I need mechanics. Now!” He gestured with the sword to Welch. “You, in the overalls!”
Welch moved slowly forward. “Alright, just don’t hurt any more people. What’s wrong?”
“Outside, now.” Rich snapped, then threw the woman back towards her husband and headed out the door.
He led Welch around the back of the Village Hall, only to see Siobhan watching from the one remaining window that hadn’t been completely covered up.
“I suspect your little teenage bit on the side did this.” Rich snarled as he pointed to the vehicles which had flattened tyres. “You will fix them, quickly or the woman and kid get to join the lawmen in the trees. Got it?”
Welch grumbled but nodded before crouching by the first vehicle. It was some 25 years old, a diesel like most remaining vehicles. Amanda had bent the tyre so it had deflated, but not damaged it.
“You just need to pump the tyres on this one.” Welch said simply and pointed to a box van who’s paint had been redone into a gaudy yellow. “Probably that one too.”
Welch grunted when he felt something hit him in the side, it was a bike pump.
“Get to it then.” Rich snapped before folding his arms and taking a few paces away.
Welch sighed heavily, attached the pump and began the arduous task.
==========================
The trio finally arrived at the edge of Weston On Trent, some people were working the nearby fields, others were digging up sand and gravel from an old pit using machinery which spluttered with black smoke as it hauled the yellow and brown material up from the ground and dumped it into a conveyor which ran it off to high sided railway wagons which sat waiting.
“Arazu Concrete Company” was emblazoned on the side in black lettering on the side of pre-collapse large railway wagons. They had been repainted at some point and the odd fleck of paint had come off through constant use, seeing some of its previous green paint reappear.
“Here we go.” George said as they carried on a little further under a road bridge and walked up a newly made station platform that had been soaked in creosote and topped with a thin layer of gravel chips.
That brought them out into what had once been a drive way and parking lot, with several new build homes encroaching on what had once been the goods yard. Now the remaining space had been turned over to a small wooden station hut, who’s staff members peered curiously at the trio which had arrived on foot.
“Ho George, hunted more than dogs then?” Called a man in a black uniform, neat white shirt and a peaked cap which had the Mercian Roundel of a dark blue background with a yellow saltire cross on it.
“Something like that, need to speak to the Councilman immediately.”
“Y’know the way, mate.” The man said before he went back to reading his paper.
With a brick wall on one side, and a primrose hedge on the other neatly being trimmed, compared to the earlier portion of the day, it had become strangely peaceful for the two women.
A woman in a wide brimmed straw hat hummed gently as she cut the hedge with a pair of clippers, and an older man, likely her husband whistled the same tune as he painted the fence with some whitewash paint.
They reached the end of the short roadway and turned to the right. The village Hall of Weston was built in a faux Tudor style and its glass doors with thick black metal frames had been meticulously kept clean and resealed with new window putty at some point in the past 16 years.
George set Amanda down who nodded her thanks and he opened the door for Emma and her to enter.
Inside the hall’s entryway was a small receptionist's desk that had been put up when the hall had become the centre of local government. An older woman, her hair a deep silver was quietly typing away with a mechanical typewriter, the keys rhythmically thumping as she hammered out a document or report.
George waited till she reached the end of a row and slid the runner back before coughing.
“Hello George,” The woman said with a warm smile and sparkling green eyes. “Finished already? We weren’t expecting you back for a couple of days.”
“Oh I got the bounty sorted, Hannah.” George placed the ears on the desk with a slightly wet thud and the Receptionist opened them without a word of complaint and replaced the bag with that of a small bag of trips, which George pocketed without counting.
“So, who’re your lady friends?” Hannah asked with that same, warm smile to the two women.
“They need to see the Councilman. Something’s happening up at Shardlow.” George gestured and Amanda gave a little wave.
“He’s been wondering why there’s been no boats through for a couple of days now.” Hannah mused and got up from her desk. She vanished into a small office that might’ve once been a cleaning closet or storage for chairs and returned a few moments later.
“Ok, you girls go and see him.” George said. “I’ll go grab the local physician and see if we can help with your leg, Amanda.”
Hannah gestured to the office door and nodded. “He says he’ll see you right away.”
Emma and Amanda headed into the office to find a man not much older than Emma reading a reporting in the dimly lit room. He was squinting and muttering at the report through glasses that seemed a bit too thick for what he needed. His hair was thick and curly dark brown and his shirt was a pre-plague T-shirt advertising a brand of soft drink now long out of production.
He smiled warmly at them, happy to take off his glasses.
“Hello there, I’m Councillor Smith, Hannah says you have information about why the boats stopped? Did one of the locks get stuck?”
Amanda took a deep breath. “No, there’s thugs, or mercenaries or bandits… basically someone’s taken over the town and is holding them all hostage. Our friend, Mr Welch-”
“The Scavenger?” Smith interrupted.
“Yes.” Amanda continued. “He told me I have to use your phone and call Tutbury 521 for help.”
Smith peered at her for a moment, then shrugged and picked up a phone from the side of his desk and placed it in front of Amanda.
“Uh, how do you use it?” She asked looking at the phone and then to Emma.
Emma laughed and picked up the receiver. “Listen this end, speak into there. I’ll dial for you.”
Amanda held the phone up to hear ear and heard the strange tone. Emma pushed the buttons and she heard the phone click and clack before there was a pause, and then the sound of a bell ringing.
“Yes?” The gruff, beginning to age voice said on the other end of the line.
“Ah, uh, hello, uh. I was told by a Mr Welch to say Remember the Blue bells?”
“What’s the problem?” The voice asked.
“Uh, well, we were at a village called Shardlow, and there’s bandits that have taken over the town, they’ve got my Mother, brother and Mr Welch, can you help? I’m calling from Weston on Trent.”
There was a long pause on the other end, Amanda thought she could hear some whispering. The line then went silent completely. “Uh, hello?”
“We’ll be there in an hour.” The voice said before the phone clicked and a single, long tone sounded.
Amanda looked at the phone, then to Emma, who took the receiver, held it to her ear, then put it back on its cradle.
“So.” Smith said looking between them and tidying the phone away. “What did they say?”
“Said they’d be here in an hour.” Amanda frowned.
“Who’s they?” Smith asked. “The Bluecoats? Yeoman?”
“Uh, I don’t know?”
“Guess we’ll wait and see.”
The local Doctor arrived soon after, and treated Amanda’s leg with iodine and a fresh bandage which eased her limp considerably. After that, there was little the two women could do except wait around in the late afternoon.
The village was quiet, with only a few people moving about sorting out a few chores and restoration projects on some of the buildings in the village itself. A flock of geese lazily flew overhead, but dipped and turned towards the river to their south.
Then, the shrill cry of a locomotive whistle broke the near silence of the afternoon.
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Post by sniper69 on May 18, 2020 10:55:37 GMT -6
Thank you for the latest chapter. I wonder who and what is on the locomotive.
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Post by castleman on May 18, 2020 11:22:55 GMT -6
Thank you for the latest chapter. I wonder who and what is on the locomotive. Someone important enough to summon one in a post apocalyptic setting...
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Post by sniper69 on May 18, 2020 12:20:15 GMT -6
Thank you for the latest chapter. I wonder who and what is on the locomotive. Someone important enough to summon one in a post apocalyptic setting... True - very true.
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Post by 9idrr on May 18, 2020 20:56:27 GMT -6
Story's developin' nicely. Now, will we see some fancy weaponry?
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Post by texican on May 18, 2020 22:58:13 GMT -6
CCM,
The Duke's men coming to deal with the bald headed bandits.
Will be interesting.
Thanks.
Texican....
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Post by castleman on May 19, 2020 15:06:43 GMT -6
The locomotive hissed, hurling a plume of smoke under the bridge as it rolled to a stop at the station. Once hidden away in on a preserved railway kept as a curiosity and pleasure for its owners, the engine had been pressed into service by the Dukedom as they were somewhat simpler to maintain than more modern trains which were filled with electrics and other things who’s supply had become short in the new world. The engine itself was a Prarie Tank of which quite a few had survived to be preserved. It had been repainted, its sides were now a deep, crimson red with a grey roof a small roundel of the Mercian Flag had been painted on the side tanks. A large, ugly and constantly clicking air pump had been attached to the front in order for it to haul the more modern coaches behind it. Amanda, Emma and Councillor Smith rushed down towards the station, only to see the confused porter trying to clear any remaining parcels from the platform which had been put out ready for the early morning and much smaller train which usually came out here to the back end of the Dukedom’s Eastern reaches. Khaki figures were disembarking and pulling on Pith Helmets, men were checking equipment and a number were pulling on heavy looking steel plate armour which made them look like lobsters. Striding along the platform, a cavalry sabre by his side was a man a little younger than Welch, his hair however had long turned grey before even the world hand ended. His strong presence and aquiline nose along with the way the soldiers jumped out of the way as he walked showed this man was important, he was in charge. His clothing was also khaki the same as the others, but a purple sash had been drawn over one shoulder and a golden tower symbol had been carefully embroided into it. Smith tensed up when he realised the figure was striding towards them. “I, uh, your Grace.” He stammered a little bit before bowing slightly. The Duke of Tutbury, once known as Edward Langley, looked grim as he approached the two women and councilman. “So, which one of you contacted me?” He looked at the group and gestured to the women. “One of you two I’m guessing?” Amanda nodded and awkwardly raised her hand. “That was me, yeah.” “Alright.” He nodded. “So I need some idea of how many of them there are, how they’re armed and any clue where they were when you last saw them.” He gestured for them to follow, they stepped onto the frontmost carriage of the train, next to the locomotive, and found themselves in a mobile office, complete with wingback chairs a pair of desks, a little further down a table had been made out of an old dining table that had its centre cut down slightly, sat into the recess was a thin board with an ordnance survey map placed into it, and a glass pane secured over it. Next to all of this, on the edge, was a pair of grease pencils sat waiting. The Duke picked up one pencil in his hand, and idly fiddled with it in his hands. “So, we’re here.” he made a little mark on Weston On Trent on the map and tapped the station site. “We can get as far as here.” He tapped the bridge that they’d used to cross the river earlier. “Then we have Shardlow here. So where did you see them?” “Well.” Emma picked up a grease pencil and marked the bridge. “They had two here, on the bridge.” “They mostly had people all along the canal areas? I guess?” Amanda added and Emma nodded, adding little crosses along the canal banks. “Like, at the gate-thing there was ten or so.” “The lock?” The Duke asked, he’d crossed his arms while watching Emma make marks and circles. “They were holding everyone in the village hall.” Amanda added and Emma ringed the building. “What about the bluecoats? The peace officers?” The Duke asked. Amanda shuddered at the memory of the two hanging bodies and then slowly shook her head. The Duke frowned and let out a long, angry sigh from his nose. “I see.” He finally added. “Oh, and they had a bunch of vehicles all around the back, I think that’s how they got there.” “Wonder how they got the fuel. Only us and the Emergency Administration around here...” The Duke mused for a minute before waving at the two women to carry on. “Well, I think I broke some of them, jabbed the wheels with a crowbar I found.” Amanda smiled and the Duke gave her a small smile before nodding back at the table. “They liked the bridges a lot.” Emma said, marking the bridges in the village. “We call them Choke Points. What about weapons?” “Nothing like that.” Amanda pointed out the window to a soldier who was cleaning his rifle barrel quickly and checking a magazine. “They had like…” Amanda snatched up a pencil and sketched out a crude looking crossbow and a revolver rifle. “Things like this? I think most of them had these anyway.” The Duke leant forward and looked at the map and the little squiggles and drawings that had been added to it. “Looks like we’ll have to take the route through Castle Donnington and hit them from the South. Maybe have a group move across from the West too, try and pincer them in.” He began sketching arrows of his own. “Thank you for your information, it’s going to be very useful.” He gestured to the door while he poured over the map and another figure, an officer from the markings on his uniform waited at the door before being waved in as the two girls got off of the railway carriage. They stood over to the side as the soldiers continued to unload equipment and check themselves over. “Do you think Welch is more important than he let on?” Amanda asked Emma as she watched the hive of activity. “I… I guess so?” Emma added. “I mean, I get he did some stuff to help them when they set up but…” Emma let out a long, tired sigh. “I don’t know. I just want them all back safe.” “Alright, listen up!” The man who’d been in the carriage waiting had reappeared and shouted, the whole panoply of noise simply ceased instantly. “We got at least 30 opfors, all equipped any old how at Shardlow.” He looked around at the soldiers still checking equipment. “Wolf company, head along the railway line with me, through Castle Donnington, we’re hitting them from the South.” There were some cheers. “Adder company.” You’re heading North, then West, cut off their escape route, they do have vehicles so, yes, you do get to use your toy.” There was a huge cheer from another group and a few jeers from Wolf, some men ran down to the far end of the train, a few moments later there was a sputtering roar of an enormous engine that caused Amanda to jump and Emma to look curiously down the train. All she could see was a cloud of diesel fumes and the distinct smell of the hemp based biofuel. “We get this wrapped up by nightfall people, we got three hours!” The officer yelled before being handed a rifle and breaking into a jog with his other yeoman down the railway line that Amanda and Emma had walked up, their equipment clanking and clinking as they ran down the platform and onto the ballasted railway line past their own train. Within minutes, and the strange sound of the engine revving hard before fading, the village fell to near silence once again. “So…” Emma looked around. “Want to get a bite to eat?” “Not really hungry.” Amanda said as she looked around. “Drink then?” Emma smiled. “Yeah, I think I could try that.” Amanada said with a ghost of a smile. With that, they both turned and walked back up the narrow lane to the village proper.
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Post by 9idrr on May 19, 2020 21:07:17 GMT -6
Sounds like fun. Of course, that might be 'cause I ain't one of those there and bein' shot at.
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Post by sniper69 on May 20, 2020 7:24:42 GMT -6
I wonder if the "toy" Adder company gets to play with is a tank? Thank you for the latest great chapter.
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Post by castleman on May 20, 2020 11:22:34 GMT -6
I wonder if the "toy" Adder company gets to play with is a tank? Thank you for the latest great chapter. Close... very close. The best bit of writing this is I know where to source nearly every vehicle and other bit of tech mentioned as its all within my local area.
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Post by NCWEBNUT on May 20, 2020 14:43:26 GMT -6
I have an Idea what it may be, something the Brits made very well in those days when they were needed.
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Post by texican on May 20, 2020 19:43:49 GMT -6
CM,
The Duke is off to end the bald heads, but will they be there because they were readying the vehicles to leave?
Depending on what Amanda and Emma drink, just how soon will Amanda and Emma follow the troops?
Another chapter is definitely needed to clear the guesses.
Thanks,
Texican....
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Post by griz375 on May 20, 2020 22:27:46 GMT -6
Seems like a good start, but we might need another ten or twenty chapters to be sure. I concur -- 10 or so would really set the hook but thanks for the taste
G
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Post by castleman on Jun 17, 2020 11:26:32 GMT -6
Sweat poured off of Welch as he continued to pump the tires on the vehicle, he’d done one already and was now working on the second vehicle, the one he’d been told to prioritize a large box van that had been loaded with various goods and salvage that was of some value. He muttered under his breath, only to feel a hard soled boot kick him in the back. He grunted and looked back, shooting daggers at Rich. The bald man sneered and kicked him again. “Keep working.” He spat, his hand gripping his sword hard. Welch continued to yank on the bike pump, feeling ridiculous as he did so. ============= The Mercian soldiers moved swiftly on foot, marching quickly along the railway line and back through the abandoned town of Donnington, they followed the same roads as the women had done only a couple of hours earlier but continued until they were overlooking the village of Walton. The Duke himself had followed along towards the back of the small column, and had quietly put away his sash into one of his pockets, his sword remained at his side, but a rifle had also been slung on his back. He moved up towards the head of the column when it had stopped and the leading elements had crouched and reached for a small leather box by his side and pulled out a pair of binoculars. He raised them and began to look around the village slowly. “Right as the ladies said.” He murmured half to himself, and half to the officer by his side. “Revolver rifles, crossbows, shotguns…” He raised an eyebrow. “Crude barricade, who are these people? They sort of half organised but.” He sighed and shook his head. “Questions for later.” He raised himself up and unslung the rifle, as did the rest of the men around him. “Attack as agreed, gentlemen.” He said as he began to jog down the roadway towards the village. Within a few minutes they had reached near to the bridge, and the two leather coats who had been standing guard there had swapped sides and taken position facing the Mercians. It was they who fired on the Khaki clad figured first, and the responce was a fusilade of rifle fire barking back at them, with the gunsmoke drifting across the distance between them both. Bits of the wooden cart had been chipped off by the gunfire, but it seems none of the shots had hit home and the two thugs fired over the side of the cart again, and more were racing down the roadway to support them. The Duke knelt down on one knee and raised his rifle level before pulling the trigger. He felt the rifle kick like a mule and smelt the drifting gunsmoke as it wafted by him. Cordite was still in short supply and to many simply unachievable. One of the leather clad goons let out a cry of pain and more gunfire and the whistle of a crossbow bolt flew past the soldiers in return. One bolt found its mark and the man three to his left let out a scream in pain. Another soldier with a medical armband raced forward and began to check him over. The Duke racked the bolt on his rifle and aimed again, further down the road to a figure sprinting, he felt the kick and watched the smoke waft in front of him again and waited before he saw another figure down and grabbing at their leg. More gunshots and another volley from his men saw his view obscured, and he chose to move at this moment, using the cover of the smoke to sprint across the bridge, his age was felt instantly and his breathing began to wheeze as the much younger men and boys around him rushed across the bridge. He stopped occasionally to aim and fire at the leather clad figures, who’d realised the strength and organisation of the force before turning and fleeing back into the village, firing wildly over their shoulders as they fled. He thumped his shoulder into the wagon cart and panted, wheezing for a moment as the others sprinted past him, several running and firing at the same time. He could hear the drone of the heft diesel engine of Adders as they arrived from the North West, followed by the crackling of more gunfire, followed by two swift thumps. His breathing steadied, he got up and jogged down the street, keeping to one side and giving himself the cover of the bushes and trees. ============== Welch heard the crack of rifles and smiled a little as he continued to pump the tyre, he then heard the loud double thud and sat up, leaning against the panel truck and taking a deep breath, mopping his brow. Rich rushed around the side of the village hall, leaving Welch unattended. Welch got up slowly and looked in the back of the panel van, seeing assorted luxuries, no weaponry to speak of, bar a fire poker that had been made quite recently from the fact there was still a price tag on it. Welch grabbed it and hefted it in his hand before heading to hide behind another vehicle, an old executive car commonly used by travelling salesmen. Its paint was peeling and covered in muck but obviously worked as it had been parked here. Rich returned from around the corner, pawing at some keys as he grabbed the door handle, Welch raised himself up and began to approach Rich. The pistol rifle cracked once behind him, and a drift of smoke lazily made its way across the playing field. Welch looked down at the hole in his chest and felt his legs collapse under him. Rich looked back towards Welch, smiled a crooked smile and opened the door. “Well, come on then!” he shouted to the other figure. Welch saw a woman with a revolver rifle rush past him as his eyes widened and watched her jump into the van. The van lurched forward and began to turn to race across the playing fields. There was a thump and the front of the van, including the engine crumpled and shattered, the vehicle being thrown back slightly and spinning 90 degrees from the impact to rock on its wheels. The rumble of a heavy diesel engine got closer, and a camouflage coloured vehicle rolled slowly onto the grass, stopping as the oddly shaped turret above moved slowly over the grass of the area, taking in the playing fields. The FV432’s had been at yet another museum tucked away into a corner of leafy britain, and had once again been acquired during the initial collapse. The armoured personnel carriers were even used for a while in the rebuilding efforts, allowing the Mercians strong protected means of transportation. They could be used as statements of strength and for terror if needs be. When no other threats presented themselves, the top popped open and a figure emerged to wave. Soldiers rushed past the tank and yanked open the bent doors of the panel van, dragging the woman out and beating her with the back of a rifle until she complied and rolled onto her stomach to be cuffed. The same happened to Rich on the far side, his sword being unceremoniously flung away somewhere near a bush. Soldiers quickly spread out one spotted Welch with the fire iron by his side. “Medic! They shot a civillian trying to defend himself!” The voice yelled out. Welch looked up to see the young face, the boy barely looked like he shaved, probably not much older than Terry. Who’d probably be in a uniform if they settled in Tutbury before long. He went to open his mouth, only for no sound to emerge and instead felt his consciousness fading. =========== The Duke had finally reached the village green after another couple of firefights and the appearance of Adder’s Toy had taken most of the fight out of them. The majority of the leather clad goons were now sat in the middle of the green, hands on heads and weapons seized from them. He paid them no attention as his yeoman had already got a decent guard on them, and just in case he’d posted guards elsewhere, guarding the northern and southern roads just in case. He stopped briefly by the yeomen who were wrapping the bodies of the two bluecoats into hemp bodybags which had been stained with the Mercian Flag. The decorated officer that had been with him in the carriage earlier and had commanded Adder approached him, leaning in to speak with him quietly. His name was Jonas Langley, named after a local village and in his mid 30s he had only really known the Dukedom’s way of life, having been adopted by Edward as a son after his parents had succumbed to spoiled food, and he’d only just survived thanks to the use of medicines that were fast running out during those early years of the rebuilding. “One van filled with valuables stopped with a solid slug, and they found Uncle Welch.” His lips became thin lines of frustration. “He’s been shot, through and through thankfully. They’re trying to get him stable to move. Seems there’s a couple of cars that we can drive him back to the train with.” The Duke let out a long sigh through his nose and looked skywards for a moment before nodding. “Ok, get him and any other casualties out the same way.” Jonas nodded. “I just can’t believe this happened here of all places. Perhaps The Chancellor is right, making his fortress in the Derwent Valley.” The Duke set his rifle down and leant on it slightly like a cane, the thick wooden stock lending to this job well. “We keep this area more open to encourage people from the administration and the river communities to come and settle here and so strengthen the whole area. We need people, and around here the survivors were scattered to the winds.” He looked at the grateful villagers shaking the hands of the yeomen. “What he’s pursuing up there is to make sure we have a second core to let us get back to a level of comfort we’ve not had these 16 years. It has to be defended because if people knew they’d try and take it for themselves instead of copying it.” He tapped his son on the shoulder. “But it's good you’re thinking of others.” There was a snap of single rifle shot that echoed. Numerous soldiers in Adder stopped what they were doing and waited, a second pistol shot followed it soon after. Most of them dropped what they were doing and rushed towards the sounds. Jonas looked to his father who nodded. The tank reappreared with a belch of smoke and rushed along the road with most of the yeomen following in its wake. Jonas reached the sound within 30 seconds and a sprint, he looked to the one soldier who had been posted here with the signal revolver and opened his mouth to ask what had caused him to warn. But then he heard it, the strange wailing that sounded like a high pitched, wounded beast. He rapidly waved the tank into position on the road and jabbed a finger Northwards, the vehicle quickly repositioned itself while the rest of his Adder Yeomen quickly took up positions by walls or on the ground, rifles pointed along the road and towards the abandoned half of the village that lay a good quarter of a mile away. A vehicle rounded the corner, followed by more and more. “Police” read one, “Ambulance” read another, another was giant and red and had “FIRE” placed on the fore, the vehicles behind it though were not, and the hasty collection of working vehicles had instead had a hasty paint job that declared them “Civil Protection”. Jonas frowned and moved to stand in front of the tank, widened his stance and folded his arms across his chest. Time, it seemed, to look intimidating. Even if it was with the aid of a tank. The police vehicle turned across the roadway and stopped, with the remainder coming to a halt behind it, and the doors opened.
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Post by NCWEBNUT on Jun 17, 2020 15:18:06 GMT -6
It appears I was off on my guess that it would be a Daimler Armored Car or a Staghound But instead a APC, better to get more troops into the fight.
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Post by castleman on Jun 17, 2020 16:47:56 GMT -6
It appears I was off on my guess that it would be a Daimler Armored Car or a Staghound But instead a APC, better to get more troops into the fight. Sadly, getting hold of Daimler Dingos is surprisingly hard in the UK. There's a few about in Museums, but not everywhere. However, from about 2017 onwards, the MOD has been dumping the old FV432 and their very nice Rolls Royce K60 Multifuel engines that'd probably get you 50 miles on a gnats fart as many are either upgraded to the Bulldog life extension program, or as the number of FV432's are being halved from their original numbers of 3,000 down to about 1,000. It's part of the general wind down (and replacement by the warrior) that will also see the Boxer replace about half again. I also know somewhere, about 20 miles away that has 15 of them, among other fighting vehicles. I'd assume the Dukedom folks would just grab what had spares and could be relatively easily copied and either make notes of the rest of the collection, or scrap them so nobody else could've got hold of them.
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Post by texican on Jun 18, 2020 0:21:08 GMT -6
The police vehicle turned across the roadway and stopped, with the remainder coming to a halt behind it, and the doors opened.
Oh CM, friend or foe. Another chapter is required to find out.
Uncle Welch. What a tie in.
Thanks CM,
Texican....
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