Aftermath - Old Chicago
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Aftermath - Old Chicago
Cameron sat squarely in the dirt, the weight of his muddied quilt pressing down on him like another layer of gravity-- or the weight of another burden on his shoulders. He adjusted his binoculars and peered down the sights, absentmindedly rubbing the cold metal with his thumb as he examined the treasure trove now less than a mile north of his position.
The titanic remains of an industrial storage facility lie in an even more colossal crater. The building itself lie on a slight angle that gave off the impression it could tilt and fall over onto its side at any moment. However, on further investigation, it could be seen that a sea of debris kept it suspended in its tilt. Cameron scrolled the focusing ring to enlarge his view. With an exhale of disbelief, Cameron confirmed the sand storm was gone. The twister of ashes and dust that raged on in an eternal typhoon of festering hate and rage since the beginning of the apocalypse that acted as the sentinel gatekeeper between sentient life and the World of Camelot amusement park-- or whatever was left of it now.
The typhoon had been weakening these past few years as those capable enough to notice had seen. The areas the storm revealed offered a surprisingly high stash of resources that acted as a godsend for the stragglers and looters. Several large companies had set up temporary camps and attempted scavenge raids with varying levels of success. Last night, the typhoon completely halted altogether, and gave way to the World of Camelot back access storage facility which most likely housed unimaginable riches.
With a quick shrug, Cameron tossed his thick, heavy blanket to the dirt and wasted no time in moving in on the prize.
-----------
Ten minutes later, Cameron had arrived dutifully at the back entrance. The locks, having been destroyed by the seven year long storm, offered no resistance to his entrance, and he quickly stepped inside to a world of cool, dry darkness composed of concrete and steel. With a hand on his M9, he moved toward the first door in sight with high hopes.
The titanic remains of an industrial storage facility lie in an even more colossal crater. The building itself lie on a slight angle that gave off the impression it could tilt and fall over onto its side at any moment. However, on further investigation, it could be seen that a sea of debris kept it suspended in its tilt. Cameron scrolled the focusing ring to enlarge his view. With an exhale of disbelief, Cameron confirmed the sand storm was gone. The twister of ashes and dust that raged on in an eternal typhoon of festering hate and rage since the beginning of the apocalypse that acted as the sentinel gatekeeper between sentient life and the World of Camelot amusement park-- or whatever was left of it now.
The typhoon had been weakening these past few years as those capable enough to notice had seen. The areas the storm revealed offered a surprisingly high stash of resources that acted as a godsend for the stragglers and looters. Several large companies had set up temporary camps and attempted scavenge raids with varying levels of success. Last night, the typhoon completely halted altogether, and gave way to the World of Camelot back access storage facility which most likely housed unimaginable riches.
With a quick shrug, Cameron tossed his thick, heavy blanket to the dirt and wasted no time in moving in on the prize.
-----------
Ten minutes later, Cameron had arrived dutifully at the back entrance. The locks, having been destroyed by the seven year long storm, offered no resistance to his entrance, and he quickly stepped inside to a world of cool, dry darkness composed of concrete and steel. With a hand on his M9, he moved toward the first door in sight with high hopes.
Six- Admin
- Posts : 267
Join date : 2013-11-21
Location : Majesty
Re: Aftermath - Old Chicago
Liam looked at the shitty hand drawn map he had made to keep tabs on the areas that are looted and the areas with high looter activity. He surveyed the map and saw the amusement park. His mind began to drift as he wondered what he could find in it but he knew entry was impossible. He continued to walk over a cliff when he looked up and dropped his map. The sandstorm was gone. He looked hastily to his left and right and saw no one but when looking at the entrance he saw a figure moving in. His stomach rumbled as he hadn't ate in days.
That place was a gold mine and he'd be damned if anyone got in the way of his survival. He unclipped the band on the police issue holster that he looted off a dead cop some years back and he drew his police issue .357 magnum and took off. He ran and he ran trying to get into the place before more people to notice. After about 5 minutes of running he hopped the turnstyle which allowed entrance to the park and he looked around. He walked to the first door in sight and saw it was open. The dust and sand which built up on the floor over the years had foot prints leading into it. Letting out a sigh and quick prayer in his head he burst into the room with his gun pointed at whoever the stranger was in the room.
He cocked the hammer to his revolver and began to order the man. "Drop your gun and any supplies. Leave before this get's ugly." He used his free hand to cover the lower half of his face with a black scarf that he carried around his neck.
That place was a gold mine and he'd be damned if anyone got in the way of his survival. He unclipped the band on the police issue holster that he looted off a dead cop some years back and he drew his police issue .357 magnum and took off. He ran and he ran trying to get into the place before more people to notice. After about 5 minutes of running he hopped the turnstyle which allowed entrance to the park and he looked around. He walked to the first door in sight and saw it was open. The dust and sand which built up on the floor over the years had foot prints leading into it. Letting out a sigh and quick prayer in his head he burst into the room with his gun pointed at whoever the stranger was in the room.
He cocked the hammer to his revolver and began to order the man. "Drop your gun and any supplies. Leave before this get's ugly." He used his free hand to cover the lower half of his face with a black scarf that he carried around his neck.
Scarecrow- Awaiting
- Posts : 225
Join date : 2014-01-25
Age : 24
Location : New York
Re: Aftermath - Old Chicago
Marco aimlessly walked through the desolate sands like a ghost with a tattered cloak wrap that was ripping more and more by the winds, little to nothing to shade him from the sun and it's increasing rays by the hour, clutching a crudely carved cross trinket in his hand. His mind was losing itself.
The more he walked, the more he lost awareness, with nothing to break him out of the repetitive motions he had been doing all night.
Reaching the top of a hill that he found to be the rim of a crater, he was snapped back to reality by the sight of a building. The apparent lack of activity gave him the opportunity to approach, still drawing his MK 23 suppressed pistol and knife, one of the few things left to him by his previous group who left him during the night.
Reaching the outside of the premises and removing his goggles to his neck, he tread carefully around the building, heading for the entrance. He was very exhausted, having barely the strength to stand.
He heard a voice when he neared the doors. His own voice was unable to muster a word, much less a commanding voice, nor could he involve himself in a confrontation with his strength. As quiet as he could, he made his way closer to the two men he spotted for a glimpse, but made his turn around the corner too soon and saw it was a standoff, with one of them staring his way. In a quick decision he pulled his own pistol and knife forward from underneath his cloak, still unable to speak.
The more he walked, the more he lost awareness, with nothing to break him out of the repetitive motions he had been doing all night.
Reaching the top of a hill that he found to be the rim of a crater, he was snapped back to reality by the sight of a building. The apparent lack of activity gave him the opportunity to approach, still drawing his MK 23 suppressed pistol and knife, one of the few things left to him by his previous group who left him during the night.
Reaching the outside of the premises and removing his goggles to his neck, he tread carefully around the building, heading for the entrance. He was very exhausted, having barely the strength to stand.
He heard a voice when he neared the doors. His own voice was unable to muster a word, much less a commanding voice, nor could he involve himself in a confrontation with his strength. As quiet as he could, he made his way closer to the two men he spotted for a glimpse, but made his turn around the corner too soon and saw it was a standoff, with one of them staring his way. In a quick decision he pulled his own pistol and knife forward from underneath his cloak, still unable to speak.
Zechs- Awaiting
- Posts : 178
Join date : 2013-11-20
Age : 26
Location : Sanc
Re: Aftermath - Old Chicago
Cameron lowered his center of body closer to the ground, gripping the weapon in his hands with more force than necessary. He glanced over his shoulder for a moment and quickly snapped his head back to the front. He couldn't tell from where, exactly, but the scuffle of feat within the rubble outside clearly indicated he wasn't the only buzzard hoping to pick this carcass clean.
Which way would they come from? He only had seconds to decide his next action, and those seconds weren't enough.
Paralyzed in indecisiveness, the door to Cameron's left whined with age as it turned on its rusted hinges before making way to a man covering his face. In that instant, Cameron leapt forward and, ungracefully, threw his body behind the crumbling remains of a support pillar and hastily held his gun up to his face like he had seen them do in spy movies. The rush of his movement denied his hearing the words announced by the invader, but that aside, Cameron felt himself lucky.
When he went to move behind the pillar, why didn't the invader shoot?
..
That's why..
Behind the first invader was a second. A man cloaked and armed as Cameron could see. From this angle, he was able to spot him. That was why the first man didn't shoot-- he didn't need to. There were two of them and they probably didn't want to waste precious ammo on one measly scavenger. They probably hoped to scare him off first but..
Cameron wasn't going anywhere.
"I see you; I know both of you are there. I have a gun, it's loaded, and I will kill you" he spoke forcefully, keeping his voice low and deep.
Which way would they come from? He only had seconds to decide his next action, and those seconds weren't enough.
Paralyzed in indecisiveness, the door to Cameron's left whined with age as it turned on its rusted hinges before making way to a man covering his face. In that instant, Cameron leapt forward and, ungracefully, threw his body behind the crumbling remains of a support pillar and hastily held his gun up to his face like he had seen them do in spy movies. The rush of his movement denied his hearing the words announced by the invader, but that aside, Cameron felt himself lucky.
When he went to move behind the pillar, why didn't the invader shoot?
..
That's why..
Behind the first invader was a second. A man cloaked and armed as Cameron could see. From this angle, he was able to spot him. That was why the first man didn't shoot-- he didn't need to. There were two of them and they probably didn't want to waste precious ammo on one measly scavenger. They probably hoped to scare him off first but..
Cameron wasn't going anywhere.
"I see you; I know both of you are there. I have a gun, it's loaded, and I will kill you" he spoke forcefully, keeping his voice low and deep.
Six- Admin
- Posts : 267
Join date : 2013-11-21
Location : Majesty
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