Road Trip 2038: Interstate of Anarchy IC

[Pax Nerdvana]

align=center]Road Trip 2038
Interstate of Anarchy
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OOC
St. Louis, Missouri, March 2nd, 7:00 AM:

It was a cool, clear morning in St. Louis. On the edge of town, just off the interstate, a supply convoy was preparing to strike off into the lawless countryside. It would be a long, dangerous journey, with the possibility of reward. These travellers were headed west for other reasons too. Some were emigrating, others seeking adventure and reward.

There were around twenty five vehicles of all shapes and sizes lined up, their drivers running final checks, loading last bits of cargo, and making sure everything was intact. The biggest vehicle in the convoy was an old semi, long converted to solar, which was carrying a few tons of supplies, such as wheat, potatoes, and tools. With any luck, the convoy would be off within an hour. There was excitement in the air. People sensing that this might be the greatest adventure of their life, but where there is excitement, there is also some sadness. Others were praying, and saying any goodbyes to any friends and relatives who were still alive, sensing that they might not return. With any luck, they would make it to Portland, Oregon on schedule, and intact.

[Ihury]

St. Louis, MI
2 March 2038
7:00AM

“Morning already?”

“Stanley, get out of the car”, said Natalia, a young Russian lady with a spiky hairstyle and a square jaw, holding up a vacuum cleaner she had borrowed from somebody else in the convoy. “Unless you want me to vacuum your face up as well.”

As Stanley groggily climbed out of the car, carrying three performance swords and a big stuffed rabbit with him as he went out, Natalia went in, reached for the radio in the front with a significant amount of difficulty and a lot of gymnastics, and turned it on, blasting classical music to drown out the whirring buzz of her vacuum cleaner.

The mornings had become colder ever since the mysterious virus had appeared and taken the lives of 80% of the world’s population. It was a dark fog that had settled across the remnants of humanity; a dark fog composed of the souls of the ones who had succumbed to the disease, perhaps.

“Natalia, that sounds awful”, protested Forrest, a tall man of mixed African-manyotherthings descent, decked out in a casual business suit. “Can you play something else?”

“Excuse me?” Natalia retorted. “You dare call Bruckner awful?”

“I mean”, Forrest shot back, “what the hell is it even supposed to be? It just sounds like... lots of...”

“It is avant-garde”, insisted Natalia. “Inspired by Wagner, who was in turn inspired by Beethoven. It’s meant to sound like that, dumbass.”

“Can’t we play something less dramatic in the morning? I don’t know... Brahms, or something?”

“No”, said Natalia, vacuuming the seats. “My car, my music, my rules.”

She quickly finished vacuuming the car, skilfully manoeuvring round the large boxes that had been piled into the Toyota WISH.

They were boxes of Tylenol; 2,000 of them, to be precise. How Natalia got hold of them was a long story that they’d elected to leave for another time, but the fact of the matter was that Natalia had 2,000 boxes of Tylenol, with at least six or seven years to the expiry date to boot, more than enough for any one person (or three for the matter) to use in a lifetime. She’d elected to sell the boxes away, perhaps in exchange for goods and services or perhaps even big-ticket items, if there was anybody else willing to buy boxes of paracetamol in bulk for whatever reason. Regardless, it wasn’t a bad thing to have them around. People weren’t just going to stop having headaches simply because everybody else had died (if anything, headache rates would probably shoot through the roof), and it wasn’t likely Big Pharma would still be remotely operational with 80% of the world population eradicated.

Forrest gingerly adjusted his suit and rubbed his eyes. He looked up to the sky, coughed a bit to clear his throat, and yawned heartily.

“I’m gonna go make a protein shake”, he said to Natalia.

“Still planning on having those gains, huh?” said Natalia, leaning back in her seat and idly gazing. She’d run checks on the car throughout the whole of the night before (Natalia was one of those people who needed no sleep to function), which meant she just needed to wait for the rest of the convoy to set off now.

“Hey, a man’s gotta have a hobby even when the world’s ending.”

“You mean like calling Jim and asking him to come along with us? Maybe we should have dug up the cemetery they put him in.”

“I’m exhausted”, Forrest protested. “I can’t remember who’s alive and who isn’t.”

“Well, there’s someone who’s pretty alive”, said Natalia, pointing to Stanley.

He’d shed his hoodie and headed over to an empty spot on the road in a tank top and tracksuit trousers, stretching vigorously with a blank expression on his face.

“Ah, Stanley”, Natalia chuckled to herself. “I sometimes feel the poor boy’s too pure for this world.”

Stanley drew his finger across the asphalt, to test the texture, and then rolled up the left leg of his trousers, leaving the right leg down. And then, exhaling forcefully, he executed a single backflip with explosive force, landing in a crouching position.

“Nope”, he said, shaking his head. “This floor sucks.”

“Shit, there’s no more protein powder”, Forrest complained.

“Then we’ll have to make do without”, said Natalia, rolling her eyes.

[Flarbinia]

"For the love of the Gods, David! I am not joining your little cult and that is fucking final!" Connor Davis said to the David Helly as he approached his truck, the priest's bus parked next to it. 'I don't see any armor on your vehicle. You are just asking to be filled with lead. I wouldn't be surprised if you died first." Connor said to David as he began filling the gas tank with whiskey, tossing each bottle to the side when it was empty. "There. It should be good to go. We have an hour or two left before we have to head out. Would you like me to get you a sheep steak or a coyote burger?" Connor asked David as he glanced at the clock overhead before staring in the direction of the local fast food joint.

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

“Yeah, put some more on the right. And don’t forget to secure them, too!” David told the acolytes; young boys and girls who were already in service of the church. Many had lost their parents during the Apocalypse, and the Church had taken them in as orphans. The old crimes of the Catholic Church were not repeated, of course. For many parentless kids, being raised by the New Old Church was the only way to feel safe. So many people had died, some kids had lost everyone they knew. These boys and girls were between ten and twelve, and quite useful for manual labour. They had to learn humility, like the Lord learned humility while working for Joseph.

David smiled as one of the acolytes dropped a box of letters inside the bus, spreading its contents all over the floor. The acolyte was quick to apologise and began collecting the letters again, neatly stacking them back in the box. He placed the box against the wall of the vehicle and bound the stack against the wall with rope, quickly checking if the box was likely to topple over. When the last boxes were brought in, the acolytes sped outside, placing themselves in a neat row from eldest to youngest. The Church was big on respect for elders, and the hierarchy within the acolytes was entirely based on age. When David saw the neat row of ten to twelve year olds, he gave a broad smile and applauded them.

“Well done, children! Well done” he said gleefully, and in a fatherly tone of voice. The kids all bowed in unison.

“Thank you, father” the kids answered. This too made David clap hinds hands together.

“Now, go back to the Church, you hear? Jackson, you make sure they get there”

The oldest kid stepped forward and nodded. “Of course, father!” he answered eagerly. The kid was the oldest of the bunch, but one of the most insecure among them. Jackson reminded David of… Well, that didn’t matter. Following their elder, the kids went steadily down the road, eyed either with approval or with distrust by the people gathered around the convoy, depending on their affiliations. As the children marched off, one of the priests of the Church passed them, and David walked up to him to greet him candidly.

“Brother Solomon!” David said, spreading his arms wide. He embraced his brother of the Cloth with both arms, firmly patting him on the back as well.

“I did not expect to see you here!” David said happily, indeed surprised that his brother of the faith had turned up. Solomon shook his head.

“You thought I would let you drive off to Portland without saying goodbye, did you?” Solomon retorted, and the gave each other another embrace.

“It’s a shame to see you leave” Solomon said, as they began to walk past the many vehicles in convoy. “But… I guess you will be doing the Lord’s work”

David nodded. “Traveling around and spreading the word… I think I have never been closer to the Lord, coming to think of it” he said, which enticed a chuckle from Solomon.

“Now, don’t let that go to your head. We have enough false prophets these days”

The men laughed, but there was a shadow of truth to that statement. Since the Apocalypse, the number of men and women claiming to be Jesus Reborn had skyrocketed. Not only that, but every religion in the Americas had an equivalent, and every religion had its nutters. The New Old Church was very wary of these individuals, and often preached against them. David, luckily, had no intention of becoming a part of that controversy. He was happy to be subject to the Church, without holding any real power himself. Power had never interested him, after all. He just wanted to drive his bus again. David kept on chuckling a bit longer, but Solomon stopped quite abruptly.

“What’s the matter?” David asked, sensing the discomfort of his brother. He put a hand on his shoulder, and Solomon stopped. He sat down on the wheels of one of the lorries, letting a hand pass through his hair.

“I fear, David” he said, looking off into the distance.

“I fear the Church may grow beyond our control. A small community is one thing, but if we have to lead a whole continent of faith… Before you know it, we will be back in the ways of the Catholic Church”

David nodded. He had never really contemplated it deeply, but the fear of becoming a new Catholic Church was omnipresent in the teachings of the New Old Church. Even in the surroundings of St. Louis, some congregations had already disavowed circumcision and the ban on eating pork. What would happen if the whole country followed their ways? Would they be able to enforce unity? And what would that entail? He shook his head.

“Those questions are interesting, but not answered by remaining small, I think” David answered.

“We have an obligation to all souls to try and save them, just as the Lord tried. I hope we have learned from the mistakes of his disciples”

That answer seemed to put Solomon somewhat at ease, and he stood up again. The dryness of his smile betrayed that he was not entire convinced, however. It was hard, and the discussion on the future of the Church was one that was raging in every congregation, not just the St. Louis one. St. Louis was one of the first willing to act, however. The two brothers gave each other a firm embrace, clasped each other’s hand, made a slight bow, and turned away from one another. It would probably be months before they saw each other again, if it was not years. Who knew what might happen.

"For the love of the Gods, David! I am not joining your little cult and that is fucking final!" Connor Davis said as David approached his truck, which was parked in front of the yellow mail bus. David was a bit taken aback, as he had no intention to proselytise among his fellow drivers yet, but he quickly recuperated. The drivers of America were a peculiar folk, and one had to speak their language. After another piece of unsolicited advice from his fellow driver, David simply touched the brim of his hat.

“Don’t you worry, Mr Davis. If it is the will of the Lord, then so be it. If it is the will of the Lord for you to see the light, you will see it. I promise. Just know that I will be here if you want to talk”

Then, the driver offered some interesting food choices, which David had to decline.

“I’m sorry, Mr Davis” he answered “But I am afraid that they don’t serve meat according to our rules. Still, I hope to be having dinner with you on the road. I will even cook!”

[Flarbinia]

Connor Davis headed to the fast food joint. Once he was inside, he ordered the sheep steak with mouse nuggets and sat at one of the tables while it was cooking, the smell of cooked meat filling the air. Once his order was placed on the table, he ordered some coyote burgers to go before chowing down on the steak and nuggets. Once he was done, he grabbed the bag of coyote burgers, handed the sixty five ration cards to the cashier, and headed towards his truck. He placed the bag in the driver's seat, closed the door behind him, and began to check the tarp for any loose threads. "It appears that everything is good to go. I will try your cooking." Connor Davis said to David as he glanced at the clock, the hour and minute hands indicating that there was an hour left before the convoy would have to depart.

[Elejamie]

While there were a couple of arguments going on in the background, the first about music and a brief second one when someone told the other person that he wasn't planning on joining their religion, a man was hard at work fixing up his vehicle. While on the surface it seemed like an ordinary Ram 1500, albeit presumably with a different fuel source due to recent events and a machine gun stuck on the roof for seemingly no apparent reason, in reality it was so much more. The chassis, tyres and the glass were all bulletproof, it was armour plated, the machine gun on the roof of the car is not only functioning but could be controlled from inside the car thanks to plugging things into each other and a radio to communicate with other drivers in the convoy, though with that last one the stereo and a few other bits had to be discarded just so the thing would fit. As he was busy waiting for the car to fully charge, as they had manage to convert it into an electrical vehicle (albeit after a couple of attempts), a second man arrived holding two flasks full of tea, both with milk but one with three sugars and the other with two and a pinch, handing the one with a K written on the top in permanent marker to the first man.

The first man was Karl McCluskey. A 24-year-old Geordie, only here in the USA due to a job that went wrong back home, he was dressed in a plain white shirt (with his Newcastle United tattoo almost covered up by the sleeves), a pair of blue denim jeans and a pair of blue and white trainers, as well as his usual black Nike cap perched on top of his head. He had been hard at work all morning tuning up the car and making sure everything worked, as well as trying to fix what didn't work to the best of his abilities, though he had taken a couple of breaks just so he won't tire himself or his mind out. He hadn't minded the music that was playing, even though it wasn't his sort of thing, as it reminded him of working back at his old job at a Kwik Fit back home, where they'd usually have Radio 1 playing, occasionally Radio 2 or Metro Radio depending on who was in charge on that day, though he didn't really want to say anything just in case they didn't understand what he was saying, a sadly common problem ever since he ended up across the Pond. "Ta, Bray." He said as he accepted the flask of tea, pouring some into the cup and having a drink from it.

The second man was Brayden Mossman, aka "Bray" or "Mossy" as he'd insist you'd call him. A 31-year-old Australian, having arrived in the States at the end of a job back home, he decided to forego the cup and just drink his tea straight from the flask. He was dressed in his old Australian Army jacket, which he buttoned up for a change due to it being a bit cold that morning, as well as a pair of camouflage cargo pants and a pair of army boots. Much like his driver, he had spent the morning hard at work, though he was busy exercising and doing a bit of target practice instead of souping up the car he'd be a passenger in. "Nah, no worries, mate." He said, letting out a little sigh of content as he finished his sip of his drink. After drinking a little bit more put the cup back on top of his flask and screwing it closed.

The duo then turned their attention to the other vehicles in the convoy, especially the red Ford F-150 that pulled out and drove off somewhere. The two stepped back a little bit even though the car had more than enough room and had a look at all the other vehicles in the convoy. The ones they'd have to help protect, as the duo were essentially security for the whole convoy. Not the only security vehicle in the convoy, mind, if only because they both figured that there'd be more people to protect the convoy. Besides, it was still too early for them and the tea hadn't really taken effect yet, so they weren't in the right frame of mind . Karl lifted up his cap, wiped the work sweat from his forehead with the back of his forearm and put the cap back down in its normal position before he drank a bit more of his tea. The two of them then shrugged their shoulders and decided that they might as well try and socialise with the rest of the convoy, primarily to know who's who but also to kill time since there was about an hour to go before they had to set off. After a quick change of clothes, or more accurately Karl sticking on his red, black and white flannel shirt as well as Brayden taking off his army jacket just to stick a tanktop on underneath, the two headed over to a Toyota WISH, where they came across a trio of people; a guy searching for something, a second guy having finished doing a backflip and a girl. "Alreet there?" Karl asked, pretty much saying his only bit as he introduced himself.

"G'day there." Brayden added, also introducing himself. He opened his flask of tea back up and started to drink again from the flask itself, wiping away any bits of tea that dripped onto his beard before speaking again. "How are you all doing this morning?" After taking another couple of gulps from his flask, he screwed the cup back onto the flask and just kept hold of it. After all, it was supposed to last him for at least most of the day so there's no point in drinking it all now.

[Ihury]

While there were a couple of arguments going on in the background, the first about music and a brief second one when someone told the other person that he wasn't planning on joining their religion, a man was hard at work fixing up his vehicle. While on the surface it seemed like an ordinary Ram 1500, albeit presumably with a different fuel source due to recent events and a machine gun stuck on the roof for seemingly no apparent reason, in reality it was so much more. The chassis, tyres and the glass were all bulletproof, it was armour plated, the machine gun on the roof of the car is not only functioning but could be controlled from inside the car thanks to plugging things into each other and a radio to communicate with other drivers in the convoy, though with that last one the stereo and a few other bits had to be discarded just so the thing would fit. As he was busy waiting for the car to fully charge, as they had manage to convert it into an electrical vehicle (albeit after a couple of attempts), a second man arrived holding two flasks full of tea, both with milk but one with three sugars and the other with two and a pinch, handing the one with a K written on the top in permanent marker to the first man.

The first man was Karl McCluskey. A 24-year-old Geordie, only here in the USA due to a job that went wrong back home, he was dressed in a plain white shirt (with his Newcastle United tattoo almost covered up by the sleeves), a pair of blue denim jeans and a pair of blue and white trainers, as well as his usual black Nike cap perched on top of his head. He had been hard at work all morning tuning up the car and making sure everything worked, as well as trying to fix what didn't work to the best of his abilities, though he had taken a couple of breaks just so he won't tire himself or his mind out. He hadn't minded the music that was playing, even though it wasn't his sort of thing, as it reminded him of working back at his old job at a Kwik Fit back home, where they'd usually have Radio 1 playing, occasionally Radio 2 or Metro Radio depending on who was in charge on that day, though he didn't really want to say anything just in case they didn't understand what he was saying, a sadly common problem ever since he ended up across the Pond. "Ta, Bray." He said as he accepted the flask of tea, pouring some into the cup and having a drink from it.

The second man was Brayden Mossman, aka "Bray" or "Mossy" as he'd insist you'd call him. A 31-year-old Australian, having arrived in the States at the end of a job back home, he decided to forego the cup and just drink his tea straight from the flask. He was dressed in his old Australian Army jacket, which he buttoned up for a change due to it being a bit cold that morning, as well as a pair of camouflage cargo pants and a pair of army boots. Much like his driver, he had spent the morning hard at work, though he was busy exercising and doing a bit of target practice instead of souping up the car he'd be a passenger in. "Nah, no worries, mate." He said, letting out a little sigh of content as he finished his sip of his drink. After drinking a little bit more put the cup back on top of his flask and screwing it closed.

The duo then turned their attention to the other vehicles in the convoy, especially the red Ford F-150 that pulled out and drove off somewhere. The two stepped back a little bit even though the car had more than enough room and had a look at all the other vehicles in the convoy. The ones they'd have to help protect, as the duo were essentially security for the whole convoy. Not the only security vehicle in the convoy, mind, if only because they both figured that there'd be more people to protect the convoy. Besides, it was still too early for them and the tea hadn't really taken effect yet, so they weren't in the right frame of mind . Karl lifted up his cap, wiped the work sweat from his forehead with the back of his forearm and put the cap back down in its normal position before he drank a bit more of his tea. The two of them then shrugged their shoulders and decided that they might as well try and socialise with the rest of the convoy, primarily to know who's who but also to kill time since there was about an hour to go before they had to set off. After a quick change of clothes, or more accurately Karl sticking on his red, black and white flannel shirt as well as Brayden taking off his army jacket just to stick a tanktop on underneath, the two headed over to a Toyota WISH, where they came across a trio of people; a guy searching for something, a second guy having finished doing a backflip and a girl. "Alreet there?" Karl asked, pretty much saying his only bit as he introduced himself.

"G'day there." Brayden added, also introducing himself. He opened his flask of tea back up and started to drink again from the flask itself, wiping away any bits of tea that dripped onto his beard before speaking again. "How are you all doing this morning?" After taking another couple of gulps from his flask, he screwed the cup back onto the flask and just kept hold of it. After all, it was supposed to last him for at least most of the day so there's no point in drinking it all now.

St. Louis, MI
2 March 2038

"Fine and dandy, thank you very much", Natalia returned the greeting in her usual blunt manner. "How are you lot doing today?"

"Why didn't we at least pack some powdered chocolate milk or something?" Forrest asked in absolute incredulity. "Now there's nothing to drink, and-"

"Here."

Stanley tossed Forrest a ration card.

"That's my ration card", he said. "Go get yourself some powdered milk. I don't drink milk anyway."

As Forrest went off, Natalia headed to the front of her car, took out a granola bar, and then returned to talk to the two men who had approached her. They seemed like nice people overall, the sort with whom one could easily sit down and enjoy a drink of coffee (normal and Irish alike). One of them was clean shaven and rather sharp-looking, but the one who had spoken to Natalia was beardy and looked, to her, somewhat like a bear.

Bruckner's Symphony No. 8 continued blasting in the background. The cool morning air blew gently in and out of the car, all four doors open as Natalia quietly glanced up at the sky, at Stanley sitting pensively in a corner, at Forrest haggling his way through with the rations people, and then finally back at the two who had approached her. Perhaps, just perhaps...

"Say", she finally asked, after a brief awkward silence, "would you two want to sit down for a drink with me?" She took the electric kettle out from the box in the boot of the Toyota WISH, filled it with some water from a gigantic one-gallon bottle of mineral water, and plugged it into a conveniently-placed outlet at the back of the car. "Some coffee, perhaps, or maybe Earl Grey. Whatever catches your fancy... though that's all I have, because I'm not running an F&B here."

Stanley climbed into the car and lay on the carpet on the ground, daydreaming.

"Oh, and by the way", said Natalia to the other two, "would any of you be interested in some Tylenol?"

...

[Elejamie]

"We're both alright, thanks." Brayden replied back to Natalia's question, about to ask her the same question before he heard another person speak, presumably one of her passengers, although he wasn't sure if he was talking to her or to one of the other people. Having briefly lost his train of thought, Brayden managed to remember what he wanted to ask. "How are you doing today?" He asked, slowly forming a smile on his face just to lighten the mood and make things seem a little less awkward, although the downside is that he didn't have much to say other than that so it was just a question of whether or not she had something else to add. Karl, meanwhile, stood there silently as he tried to think of something to say, drinking some of his tea in an attempt to jog his memory. He wasn't able to come up with something, so once he finished drinking the contents of the cup he screwed it back onto his flask and just kept holding onto it, drumming his fingers on the side to pass the time.

Fortunately after a brief period of awkward silence, presumably because she was in the same boat as well, Natalia spoke up again by offering the two a drink, mainly a cup of tea or coffee, to pass the time. "Eh, why not." Brayden said as he sat down in one of the seats. Karl joined him by sitting down next to his passenger, as he quite fancied a cup of tea from this girl was well, and getting himself comfy in his seat once he sat down. "Besides, while I made me and him some tea it has to last us all morning." Brayden continued as he waited for the kettle to boil. "And to be honest I just feel like a coffee, that might make me wake up a little more." He then pointed towards Karl and added "Karl'll have a tea, though."

"Aye." Karl said, confirming what Brayden said.

However, when the two were offered some Tylenol, they both turned it down. Karl just simply shook his head and mouthed the word "Nah" while Brayden gave a more wordy answer. "Nah, I'm good thanks. Besides, none of us have headaches or anything, we're just a little bit slow in the morning."

[Ihury]

St. Louis, MI
2 March 2038

"I mean", Natalia continued trying to sell her product, "it's not like it would hurt to have a couple of boxes on you, just in case, wouldn't you all-"

"Natalia, stop", came the voice of Forrest, as he returned with a cup of steaming hot milk, clearly of the powdered variety, judging by the sickly creamy smell. "You're embarrassing us, you know?"

"By trying to bring mutual benefit to everybody here?" Natalia shot back smugly, as Forrest sipped his hot milk. "Apparently, I'm the bad guy now, Mister I'm-A-Holy-White-Knight."

Forrest rolled his eyes and leaned against the side of the car, slowly sipping his milk and nodding cordially at Brayden and Karl. Inside the car, Stanley continued to sleep soundly, not emitting so much as a single snore, hugging his stuffed bunny tightly and shifting only occasionally to a better position.

"He spent the whole night helping Natalia get the car sorted for the journey", Forrest explained to the two men who had approached Natalia. Putting down his now half-empty mug of hot fake milk, he smiled at the two and firmly shook their hands. "A pleasure to meet you two, by the way. I'm Forrest Strong, by the way. You can call me Forrest."

Heading to the open boot, Natalia took the boiling flask off its base, pouring out satisfying streams of hot water into the teacups and watching intently as red streaks coiled upwards from the high quality, staple-free teabags, turning the water a welcoming shade of burgundy. She pulled out one of the plastic boxes from the back and took out a small pot of honey, before spooning out a dollop of the pale yellow substance into the two teacups and serving them to Brayden and Karl.

"Enjoy the tea", she said.

Forrest picked up his mug and finished the rest of the milk. From the look of his face, he was drinking the stuff not because he actually enjoyed it, but because he thought it healthy to do so, for one reason or another. Perhaps he just wanted the protein, though there was hardly any in powdered milk to begin with.

"And if you guys ever happen to need Tylenol", she said to the two men as she brushed her fringe out of her eyes and put on a pair of shiny mercury sunglasses, looking out into the distance pensively, "you can hit me up."

"Damn it, Natalia!"

...

[Elejamie]

When Natalia kept going on about the Tylenol as the duo were waiting for the kettle to boil, Brayden was about to bring up how they were actually fine and they didn't need any. Fortunately, another person stepped in and pretty much told her to stop because it was apparently embarrasing them. However, she fired back by saying she was trying to bring in some "mutual benefit". Either way, both Brayden and Karl didn't mind her trying to flog the medicine on them; while they would keep it in mind for when one of them does end up getting a headache, they'd rather save it for then instead of now. The two nodded back at him in unison when he nodded towards them, before explaining that there was another person with them but he was asleep. "Well that answers my question." Brayden said as he was going to ask if they were travelling with anyone else. He then tried to get a good look inside the car to see what the man was talking about but then gave up a couple of seconds later, if only so he didn't seem rude.

Shortly afterwards, he stuck his hand out and shook their hands, introducing himself and then saying they could just call him by his first name. "I'm Brayden Mossman," Brayden began, smiling a little bit mostly to be polite. "Or Bray or Mossy, I prefer you calling me one of those." He then pointed towards Karl, introducing him on his behalf since he was pretty much the communicator of the two "And this here's Karl McCluskey. That's Karl with a K." Karl then lifted his hand up, as if he was going to wave, but kept it still for a couple of seconds and then lowered it, as Brayden carried on speaking. "And it's just us two. Well, us and Brock the Ram over there." Brayden finished off his introductions by looking over at their car,

As Brayden was introducing himself, the kettle had finally boiled and Natalia poured some water into each of the two cups, followed by her getting out some honey and putting a spoonful into each of the cups, presumably because they didn't have any sugar on them. "Thank you." Brayden said as he swirled it around gently, presumably because they hadn't been given one and he wasn't sure if he should ask.

"Ta." Karl said shortly after, also swirling it around due to him not really having a spoon and not wanting to ask just in case Natalia doesn't understand him.

After a bit of swirling around, Brayden took a sip of his drink. He found it to be alright, maybe he could try sticking honey into his drink instead of sugar for a change, but he felt it was missing something. However, before he was about to ask it, Natalia spoke up again saying that they could come to her for Tylenol, much to Forrest's consternation. Brayden, realising that now would be a good time to ask, then said "Still good for the pills but you got any milk? Just this tastes kind of rank without it. Powdered's fine, it's what me and Karl use for our teas."

[Zjaum]

Obadiah was singing to himself. It was mildly off-key, but not annoyingly off-key. There were bits and pieces of Clementine and Home on the Range here and there, but no songs that were intended for any sort of concert. He was checking, double-checking, and triple-checking his bags- for the fourth time that day. He was going to leave nothing, absolutely nothing, to chance. He was going to see Oregon if it killed him, which, given the circumstances and the current state of global affairs, was a very distinct possibility.

He'd made a checklist and a schedule of things that could go bad along the trip. He wasn't exactly certain how long this trip might be, but a slight detour or a roadblock would mean a day's worth of extra travel. There would be no large game to shoot along the way; he only hoped that what little he caught would suffice for fresh food. He'd have priority, though. He was doing this for himself, after all. If he did this successfully, maybe, just maybe, he could lay his family's memory to rest.

He didn't much listen to the long conversations of the others on the convoy; heck, he didn't listen much to anyone anymore. When he heard the words, "And if you guys ever happen to need Tylenol, you can hit me up," he turned around. He'd forgotten to bring medicine. He didn't even know medicine worked after the apocalypse. What a marvel of modern invention! "Yes'm... ma'am, I would like to buy some of your Tylenol, if you would, please. How much're you charging?"

[Ihury]

St. Louis, MI
2 March 2038

"Tylenol?"

The sound of somebody saying the name of the drug had Natalia's ears pricked. Quickly, she turned her head to face the direction from which the voice had come, bringing herself face to face with a grizzly middle-aged man. A first customer had come, and Natalia was going to make herself some business no matter what Forrest thought.

"Just one moment, sir."

She hurried back to the boot of the Toyota WISH, digging around in a box for a pair of stainless steel spoons, which she tossed over to Brayden and Karl, before heading back to talk to the new man who had showed up.

"Where was I... ah yes, I'm Natalia", she introduced herself, shaking the third man's hand firmly and smiling a wide, toothy smile. "Great doing business with you. Tylenol... you can name your price. I've got a pretty damn big surplus, so it doesn't really matter all that much."

"Natalia, that's kinda-"

"Shut up, Forrest. My car, my Tylenol, my rules."

The sound of Stanley chuckling inside the car could be heard from the outside. Evidently, he'd woken up a while ago, though it wasn't clear how much of the conversation he'd managed to eavesdrop.

"So yeah", said Natalia to Obadiah, still awkwardly shaking his hand after fifteen seconds. "Name your price, Mr... How should I address you?"

...

[Flarbinia]

A Samurai approached the Ford F-150 on horseback, Connor Davis glancing at the clock before staring back at him, the minute hand indicating that there were ten minutes left before the convoy had to leave. "When Mister Grayson told me that he was assigning extra security to this shipment, I expected a bunch of guys in bulletproof vests driving around in Humvees and armed with AK-47s that shoot armor piercing rounds, not a Samurai on horseback." Connor Davis said to the man that approached him. "And when I was told that I was being assigned to protect a truck carrying a shipment that could make or break Mister Grayson, I would expected the driver to be professional enough to understand the value of keeping a low profile. Looks like the world is full of surprises." The Samurai replied. "Yes, it is. What is your name?" Connor Davis said to the Samurai. "Honda Takahasi." The Samurai said to Connor Davis, the man looking confused for a brief moment. "Connor Davis. I understand why you are wearing that armor. Not every bandit is going to be using modern firearms, so wearing something that protects you against arrows is a good idea." Connor Davis said to Honda Takahasi, Honda simply nodding in agreement.

[Zjaum]

"So yeah", said Natalia to Obadiah, still awkwardly shaking his hand after fifteen seconds. "Name your price, Mr... How should I address you?"

Obadiah took a deep breath. "Whale, most people call me Obie, but you can call me Obe. Obe Clarkson; pleased to meet ye." He was still shaking hands with her and so let go. She reminded him of... well, dwelling on the past would surely not be beneficial to his emotional well-being. He meandered over to the wagon. He needed to keep what little money he had, but he was probably willing to part with a chair or something of that ilk. "I would be willing to trade you two sets of clothing or a chair for three bottles of Tylenol. I will not relinquish both. Alternatively, I will trade one set of clothing for one bottle. I do believe that is a fair proposition, if not a position favoring yourself." He smiled, mildly distraught over potentially losing the car. However, medicine was a must in the far reaches of the continent. His lack of preparedness had forced his hand; perhaps this was the very punishment of God. He would take it gladly. Regrettably, the furniture was pretty nice. It worked well as a set; perhaps he could buy it back if he had surplus Tylenol.

[Elejamie]

Brayden looked up as Natalia got up out of her seat to get something from her car. Wondering if she had some milk for the two guys to stick in their drinks, his eyes followed her as she went to the boot of her car to get something out. However, she either didn't hear the question or was preoccupied with helping the gentlemen as she ended up bringing back some spoons instead. Granted it was a lot more helpful, with Karl and Brayden picking them up and using them to stir the honey into their drinks, but it wasn't exactly what Brayden asked for. As he took a sip out of his drink, Karl got up and headed back to the vehicle to get some powdered milk. After taking out one of the containers they had from a small compartment in what was originally the back seat, he headed back to the table and delicately slammed the tub onto it right in front of Brayden. "Cheers, mate!" Brayden said, smiling as he opened it up and poured a bit into his drink.

"No worries." Karl replied, pouring some of the powdered substance into his drink when Brayden was done.

As the two stirred the powdered milk into their drink, lightening the colour of the drink and presumably giving it a bit more flavour, they both observed the man that had asked Natalia for some medicine. Not to judge him or anything like that but rather so they'd both know who he was and remember that he's part of the convoy that they're guarding. From what they gathered, he seemed like an alright bloke, a bit old-fashioned but still the sort of person that they'd imagine getting along with. However, since he was in the middle of a conversation, they held off on saying anything to him until there was a break in the conversation. Fortunately, when there was, Brayden siezed the moment. "G'day." He said, lifting up his cup as a substitute for waving, his Australian accent loud and clear. "Having a nice morning, mate?"

[Pax Nerdvana]

On the outskirts of St. Louis, Missouri, March 2nd, 8:00 AM
The call went out for everyone to mount up, and get ready to drive. Engines started up, doors slammed, and guns were loaded. Vehicles began lining up on the road. Cargo in the middle, scouts in the front and back, and security all around. This would be the marching order for the trip.

[Flarbinia]

Connor Davis was the first to head out of town, Honda staying next to his vehicle. He knew that the others would chastise him for leaving without waiting for the rest of the group, but whatever words and empty threats that may come out of their mouths were nothing compared to Mister Grayson's wrath. The mining companies, like the robber barons of the late eighteen hundreds, did not hesitate to use unscrupulous methods and Grayson Mining Inc. was no different. If Connor Davis failed to deliver the silver ore on time, there would be nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

[Ihury]

“I’ll take the clothes”, said Natalia to Obadiah, before taking a box cutter out of one of the plastic boxes, shredding open one of the cardboard boxes, and then producing three packs of headache medicine, waving them at the three visitors like a Victorian-era lady waving a handkerchief at her departing lover. She tossed them to Obadiah nonchalantly, only stopping just before the last pack as a call was sent out, informing all drivers to get ready to set off.

“Saddle up, ladies”, she bellowed, much to Stanley’s chagrin as he climbed off the carpet on the floor of Natalia’s Toyota WISH to make space for Forrest to get on, curling up on his claimed seat. “We’re going for a drive.” With that, she smiled at Obadiah, Karl, and Brayden, packed up the stuff she had taken out of the boot to make tea for the latter two, and then forcefully slammed the hinged door shut.

Then she smiled at Obadiah again, showing perhaps too many teeth.

“I’ll get the clothes from you another time”, she said to him, climbing into the driver’s compartment and starting the engine.

[Zjaum]

Obadiah was pleased with the exchange. He got to keep one of his two favorite chairs in existence, and clothing was both cheap and expendable, especially with eight sets remaining. What a gift from God! It was, most assuredly, a good start to the endeavor, and Obe was smiling all the way to the front of the car. Perhaps lightning won't strike twice this time.

He finished fueling the vehicle and turned the engine over. Hopefully, he'll have sufficient fuel to make it halfway there. Here at the end of the world, a respectable diesel dispensary was hard to come by. Regardless, he was a fine enough driver, at least In terms of supply efficiency. Maneuvering, however, was not necessarily a strong suit of his, and weaseling his way into the center of the convoy became quite the challenge. After a little while, though, he was finally in the appropriate position. He inserted his compact disc, full of old classic Americana that he once played for his students and children, and prepared for the long voyage ahead of him.

[Pax Nerdvana]

On the outskirts of St. Louis, Missouri, March 2nd, 8:05 AM
The convoy finally got moving, trying to catch up with the SUV that had left a few minutes earlier. They were finally on their way to Oregon.

[Elejamie]

Just as soon as Karl finished his tea, they got the call. It was time to get going. Brayden slammed his cup down onto the table just as soon as he finished his drink. It wasn't the best drink up there but at least it was decent enough for him to finish, maybe get another if and when he had the time. And as the two finished their drinks and stood up, Natalia packed everything back up into the boot of her car and gave a small smile towards Brayden and Karl, who smiled back a little bit, as well as smiling towards Obadiah. However, Obadiah went back to his car without saying "hello" back, which slightly annoyed Brayden. Granted it wasn't intentional and he either didn't have time to say anything back due to how sudden the call was, he was too busy concentrating on buying the Tylenol, he didn't know he was being greeted or, more than likely, he just didn't hear it. Either way, the only thing that Brayden could say to this is a slightly bemused "Meh."

"Divvint fash yerself, lad." Karl said to his passenger, essentially telling him not to worry. He then gently patted Brayden on the shoulder with the back of his fingers before he walked over to their vehicle. "C'mon, let's go."

Brayden then shrugged and then followed his driver to their car, getting into the passenger's seat while Karl got into the driver's seat. Karl then reached over to the glove compartment and pulled out a pair of sunglasses, a pair of wraparound sunglasses with some amber-tinted lenses. After sticking them on and tossing the case back into the comparment, he fished his keys out of one of his pockets and stuck it into the slot. After starting the car, Karl stuck his seatbelt on and got himself as comfy as he could in his seat, doing a few last-minute pre-ride checks to make sure everything's definitely OK before starting. "Ready?" He asked, looking into the rearview mirror to make sure he could see over the machinery and storage compartments and out of the back window.

At the same time, Brayden was getting himself ready at the same time as Karl. He took off his jacket and shirt, revealing his muscular, hairy chest with a bear paw tattoo on his right side. Resting his tanktop and his jacket on his lap, he leaned forward and pulled his bulletproof vest out from under his seat and slipped it on. Granted it wouldn't protect him that much since it leaves a few areas exposed and even then it's jus a question of whether or not the protection would still last afterwards but it was still good for what it was. Once the vest was on, he stuck his tanktop back on, followed by his jacket, making sure the tanktop and the jacket looked like they both covered the vest and did a very good job of it, not perfect but you'd have to look a few before you'd notice it. And he did one last check of his own, namely to see if he had his weapons on him. He had his pocket knife, lovingly titled "Mr. Stabbo" and his pistol "Lucille" on him, the latter not only having the safety on but also unloaded, but he was missing one more gun. Reaching into the back he pulled out his HK416, or Hector as he called it, as well as some ammunition for his pistol and assault rifle. After sticking the ammo clips into separate pockets, namely to make sure he won't get the mixed up when he needs to reload, he checked to see if the safety was on. It was. "Sorted." He quietly said to himself after being pleased by what he saw.

Just as soon as he laid it on his lap, Brayden got asked a question from his driver. "Ready when you are." He replied back to the question, forgetting one small detail. Indeed, when Karl looked over after finishing the checks he glared at Brayden, who was confused at first as to why he was getting the evils until he looked down. He forgot to put his seatbelt on. "Sorry." He said before reaching back, pulling the belt down and strapping himself in, making sure it was tight enough to keep him in place. Once he did that, Karl nodded in approval before setting off. It wasn't going to be the easiest job and, unbeknownst to them, it didn't help that one of the convoy drivers set off earlier without informing the group. They didn't know what dangers would face them, though they were prepared for them. They didn't know how long it would take, though fortunately they seemed to be in good company. And they didn't know what reward they'd be getting at the end of the journey, let alone whether or not it would be worth it. At least they knew where to go.

[Flarbinia]

Outside St. Louis. Missouri
Outside the city walls, three bandits were watching the road, their source having revealed that the convoy was carrying enough silver ore to make them rich if they sold it to the highest bidder. The gates began to open, two of the bandits heading to inform their leader that the convoy was moving out while the third stayed behind to continue monitoring the convoy until they were out of range of the sniper towers and machinegun nests.
St. Louis. Missouri
Connor Davis and Honda were moving towards the gates, the rest of the convoy catching up to them. Once the convoy left the city limits, they would be at mercy of bandits. Connor Davis muttered a quick prayer to Thor as the convoy approached the gates.

[Flarbinia]

Connor Davis heard a noise from the glove box as he drove past the city gates, keeping one hand on the wheel while he reached towards it. He opened it, finding a CB radio. He grabbed the radio, placed it in the passenger seat, closed the glove box, and picked the radio up. "What the Hell do you want? Calling someone while their driving was dangerous back when the only danger was other drivers. This had better be pretty damned important or I will hang up on your sorry ass." Connor Davis said as he held the radio, putting it down as Honda cursed at him in Japanese for almost running over him and his horse. He picked it back up once the shouting stopped. "I repeat, what the Hell do you want?" Connor Davis said over the radio.

[Elejamie]

After a minute or so of driving, the duo of Karl McCluskey and Brayden Mossman had finally driven past the St. Louis gates and were on their way to Portland. Being part of the security, they flanked a couple of the cargo vehicles and kept a watchful eye out for any dangers. Granted, the sniper towers and machine gunners on the outskirts seemed to keep a watchful eye on them and could theoretically take out any targets before they reach the convoy but not only was it a good idea to be doubly safe but also there was going to be a point where the duo would have to really be alert. Which would've been all fine and dandy if it weren't for the fact that they'd have to stave off long miles of boredom, something Brayden could easily do but Karl couldn't due to him driving. At least they had their still-warm flasks of tea somewhere just in case they got thirsty. In an attempt to relieve Brayden reached into another pocket of his jacket and pulled out his MP3 player, which had his earphones attached. Going through it at random, he picked Goin' Out West, which he pretty much used as a theme song of sorts, despite the fact that it wasn't entirely accurate (for a start he can't drive anything let alone a bed), and rocked out a little bit to it.

However, a little while into the song, they spotted something. After a bit of debate on whether or not it was, with Brayden pausing the song and taking his earphones out just so he could participate, they both realised that it was the Ford F-150 that left earlier in the direction of that fast food place. It had somehow broken off from the convoy and started to make its own way west. While the impatience seemed a little bit understandable, it was also incredibly suicidal due to the bandits that roamed the countryside and the outskirts of the cities, very little help outside the relatively-safe havens of the cities, very few refuelling stations if any and the fact that none of them were sure how the driver and maybe any possible passengers were doing supplies-wise. Either way, Brayden wasn't all too keen and so he decided to try and contact the driver. Picking up the microphone from the radio, lodged where the old car stereo was, he repeated the phrase "Breaker One-Five-Oh, do you read me? Over." until he finally got a response.

Unfortunately, the reply back wasn't really a polite response, as it was mostly just cussing Brayden out. Granted it was because he was driving and he didn't seem to have a passenger to answer the radio for him, which to Brayden wasn't the best move but didn't really bother him that much, maybe he just prefered to be by himself while he was driving. That didn't really excuse the snippy attitude towards him, though. However, he didn't want to say anything that would cause a massive argument, primarily to avoid a slanging match that would end up sowing seeds of distrust but also to avoid a potential argument that would eat up any valuable air time that could be used to alert other drivers of any potential dangers. So, after thinking about it for a little bit, he responded, trying to think of the right words to say as he went along.

"The bloody hell you doing, mate?" Brayden asked, with a slight hint of anger in his voice. The anger was mostly out of concern due to the fact that the driver of the Ford was supposed to stay with the convoy but seemed to have wondered off on his own and partly because of what the other guy on the other end of the line was saying. "Do you know how bloody stupid it is to go out on your own out here? No help, nowhere to refuel safely, bloody yobbos on their bikes trying to steal your goods, it's suicide if you're solo and I don't wanna clear a path just to find out your fate." After a deep breath, to calm himself down fully and to add a bit more information about where they're headed without giving the wrong idea, he carried on. "Anyway, watch your six, keep an eye on your three and your nine, keep your gat close by, we'll be in Viper country soon. Be aware of Ravens as well, they're usually in the area. Maybe other gangs but the bloke I asked didn't go into detail. Over."

While Brayden was waiting for a reply from the person on the other end of the line, Karl quickly looked over at his passenger before looking back to the road. "Trying to make friends, Bray?" He snarked, though fortunately it wasn't too snide to provoke a reaction. Besides, Brayden's been with sarcastic people long enough to get used to it.

"Nah, Karl." Brayden said, holding the microphone on his lap in a way that it wouldn't suddenly start transmitting whatever he's saying over the radio. He then opened his flask back up and drank out of it again, the vibrations causing the liquid to shake a little bit but not enough to cause any problems. "Just wondering what this drongo's up to."

[Flarbinia]

"Believe me. I normally don't stray from the herd, but my boss will have my hide if I don't deliver the cargo to Portland on time. He didn't take the California Convoy's destruction well. In case you are thinking about asking me about my cargo, you are shit out of luck. I can't show it to you or tell you anything about it. Nondisclosure agreement. The "snitches gets stitches" kind. If it makes you feel any better, the rest of the convoy should catch up to me before we are out of range of the snipers. Thanks for the heads-up on the bandit situation, over." Connor Davis said to the man on the other radio before clicking the off switch and placing it in the passengers seat.