It's Friday, so it is time for the seventh survivor! This time it is the narrator of the stories, Jacob.
...we rode in the pick up a while, just far enough to get away from the horde, but close enough that I could still see the town.
It was clear that the Amazon chick was in charge, and you could tell by her tone of voice she had to be ex-military. When the truck stopped, she flex cuffed me to a tree and started asking questions.
It started out nicely. Asking me about my crew, how many were there, how many guns did we have, how much food did we have, where were we holed up. All those questions. I must not have given very good answers, I kept asking if they had seen Han, asking for food, asking for water.
Apparently that wasn't what she was wanting to discuss, so she got less nice. She had this way of speaking that made you fell like you were ten god-damn inches tall. Don't get me wrong, I have had my ass chewed out more times than I have had hot meals, but there is something about how she did it that was so much worse than dad hitting me with his belt, the gunny screaming in my face or the shit kicking I got from my squad leader when I set off that flashbang in a night op.
Even when I told the truth she didn't like it. Maybe she was hoping that we had something to trade, some food, ammo or even some useful people. Instead, we had no food, no guns, and probably the most useful person we had was Han, because at least his crappy jokes kept us entertained. Now Han was out there on his own, or worse....
I figured out why we had stopped for so long when just as the sun was heading down, a lone figure walked in down the road. He strode in to the makeshift camp, guitar slung over his shoulder, pistol safely in it's holster. He arrived at the amazon and me.
"Hey there, little lady.."
"Don't call me that. Were you followed?" Her response was short, factual. A CO's request for an after action report.
"Ain't no way little lady, me and pearl here (he gestured to his gun) kept em off our trail"
"God damn it Bubba, you aren't Elvis, so don't call me that. You had better be right, or I am throwing your jumpsuited ass to the Zees" She was yelling now, getting in his face.
"Sure thing, little lady" He said quietly, and with that, he strode off, humming softly to himself.
It was nice to know she didn't just hate me, it seemed to be that she hated everyone. I could have done without her taking out her frustrations on me with her boot....
Yet another survivor from Hasslefree Miniatures. Anyone would think that I have just bought their entire range (I wish!). Interestingly, this is actually the second, or even third time I have painted this figure, he got given some very poor paint jobs two or three years ago, so bad that I had to strip him right back and start again!
As it is, I am much, much happier with his bright red jumper and drab coloured pants. I also added one of the graffiti designs I found online while searching for stuff to paint on the sides of my jersey barriers- I quite like the stylistic look, so it will definitely be a recurring image I think. Perhaps Jacob is the one who did the graffiti in the first place? Or maybe he just found the hoodie.... Maybe I will talk about it in a future story. At least he still has the fire axe he looted from the fire station.....
Still waiting on more Zeds, so the horde is stalled just for the moment. More survivors on the painting table, and I am planning on finishing the building this weekend.
Let's see how that goes.....