xp_logs | Keep The Faith: Stand And Deliver

Making their escape, our heroes discover that they are more alone than they expected, but all is not lost.

Glancing behind the group as they shuffled (or in Jan's case, flew) down the hillside, Forge arched an eyebrow. "Paper mill. Hah, I was right," he mumbled as he followed Kyle and Terry away from their former prison. Noticing the town below them, he squinted towards the streets. "That's odd," he said aloud. "No cars, no running appliances, although someone's got the town's power grid going."

"I can't hear anyone but us. No TVs or radios running even." Terry made a face. She hated unnatural silences like this. "Okay, Jan, scout ahead and see what you can find. A working payphone would be a bonus and someplace to hole up until the team can get here. Report back here in ten and shout if you need us." Get contact, get safe. "Everyone stay sharp."

"Sharp. Right." Kyle mumbled. His jaw was still aching, he felt like two hundred pounds of boiled and chopped butt and she wanted him to stay sharp. But despite the grumbling, he kept his face slightly tilted up, stopping every so often to inhale. In through his nose, out through his mouth. "No exhaust, no smoke or anything. Might be a paper mill like Forge said, but it's not running."

Forge nodded, leaning heavily on Kyle's shoulder as they made their way down the hill, his left leg still damaged. "Hold on, I'm getting a GPS signal, finally. Couldn't get anything through the concrete there, and..." He held up his left forearm, watching the liquid crystal display pop out a series of numbers. Silently, he did some calculations in his head. "Vermont. We're in Vermont. Who the hell puts their hideout in Vermont? Unless no one's going to look, because no one's here, because..."

He paused for a moment when they reached the paved roads and Kyle pushed him back against a wall for a second while checking the area. Once Kyle nodded and motioned Forge forward, the two began making their way down the street. Noticing a similar flyer posted on various boarded-up windows, Forge bent down to take a closer look.

"Well, that explains it," he said. "The paper mill shut down back in 2001. Looks like all the local businesses went under shortly after, and people just packed up and left. Modern-day ghost town." He looked at Kyle and shrugged. "I saw a show on them on the Discovery Channel, what?"

"Like about half of Detroit." Kyle said. "Not sure Detroit'd be any better, but at least there's cars." He looked around, shaking his head as though he was trying to clear it and then turned away from Forge. He coughed harshly several times, and spat out a mouthful of blood and mucus. "Fuck, why do my goddamn sinuses have to freak the fuck out every time I fuck up my jaw?" He asked. Straightening, he inhaled deeply, and then went still, staring off into nothing. "Gas. I smell -gas-."

He closed his eyes to trash the faint smell, and turned slowly. "That way." He said on opening his eyes, pointing towards an empty lot, and beyond it, a boarded up one-story brick building.

Forge saw the familiar green-and-red stripes of a 7-11 where Kyle was pointing. He nodded and began loping across the street. "Siryn!" he called out, trusting in Terry's hearing to pick him up. "We've found something!"

Terry broke off her own survey of the area and followed the sound of Forge's voice. She pitched her voice to reach him and him alone, "Define something," she asked as she met him halfway.

"Supplies," Forge called back, starting to wrench the plywood free from the windows. "I can make a radio, call the mansion, get help here. What do you think, boss lady? Make a stand here or keep going?"

She took a moment to survey the abandoned gas station, the convenience store that had once hummed with life and electricity, then nodded, "Stand. Let's get this place ready."