(2015-07-14) Scouting Mission
Scouting Mission
Summary: A group from the camp heads out to search for survivors and other stuff…what they find is not pretty.
Date: 07.14.2015
Related: Was It Worth It

The dawn broke in a most drizzly fashion. Not the best ways to start a long trip, but at least it wasn't a downpour. The group has been traveling for a good five hours, with a few horses along with panniers to carry anything they find along the way as well as one pulling an ATV trailer. They have already crossed from Nebraska and into Colorado as they follow the Platte River. Roads are avoided, for good reason.

Holden is walking beside one of the horses. He looks hot. Tired. Annoyed. His old Star Wars Chewbacca shirt is stuck to his chest as he drags his feet along. He furrows his brow a bit, looking up at the sun and sighing. "Moooooommmmm. Are we THERE yet?" he says, one part teasing, one part clearly over this whole thing.

Quinton's having a rough day. His previous day's mind cloud is hanging on, and he's been mostly quite this trip, getting frustrated with his lack of finding anything, along with not begin able to find the words to hold a conversation with anyone. Holden's joke doesn't go over particularly well, the poet's jaw tenses and he moves to walk a head.

Unlike the two males in her company Piper seems the epitome of calmness. Dealing with a eccentric guy and a Holden, is no different than dealing with her flock of under 7s. The drawled out mom has her looking over at the young man her expression clearly saying 'Really?' but no words come out of her mouth. Lucky Holden, stuck with the barmy guy and the mute girl.

All is quiet as the group wanders along the river. As they progress the drizzly rain stops and the sun tries to break through the clouds. There is rumbling noise heard in the distance, but it is hard to tell what it is.

Holden shakes his head and he sighs. "Adventure… Hmph. Excitement… Hmph." He kicks a rock, "A Jedi craves not these things." He moves a bit ahead of the horse he was beside. "What I wouldn't give for a Snickers…"

Quinton's head snaps up, the rumble is loud enough for everyone to hear. His hand goes up, trying to get them to stop. " …Something's ahead…" His head tilts trying to decide if it's the same noise as the drones or thunder or what.

Piper doesn't have candy bars, just cookies and is about to dig them out when the stop is called out. She stops as requested, the horses though take a bit longer to get the hint..or don't get the hint at all, the just keep right on moving the way there were going despite her attempts to get them to stop.

Holden stops walking and that horse behind him doesn't. It pushes Holden aside, and he spins, startled, tripping up and ending up on his butt on the ground with an "Oomph!" He huffs, but he doesn't move, looking around and listening for whatever Quinton heard.

Quinton frowns, moving to try to stop the horses himself. The drone from last week still has him on edge, much less Nora leaving. His hands go up and he steps in front of the horses. The reins are grabbed and he gets them to stop. A hand up to keep them calm as he looks to the two people. he's also trying to tell what it is he's hearing…and possibly what direction.

Piper gives a shrug, she heard it but seems to have no idea what it is either. Holden falling on his backside has her pulling her attention away from the horses and Quinton and she furrows her brow at him. The petite female offers her hand to help him up.

Holden takes her hand and pulls himself up. He doesn't weigh much. "Thanks." He walks up ahead to join Quinton. "Should we take cover, Q?"

The rumbling noise doesn't last long and is soon fading into the distance and no longer heard. Now it's just the usual sound of wildlife and the flowing river.

Quinton's not sure. A deep breath is taken, "I…can't tell where it's…" And then the sounds fades away. Pale green eyes blink and he looks to his companions, "Sounded like an …engine…." But that could be…right? The reins are held onto and he turns, pointing the direction they were going, "Keep going…but stay…."He hesitates, the word not eh tip of his tongue, but ti's not forming. So instead he just makes a hand motion, like they should know, and starts walking again.

There is a look between Quinton, Holden and then back to Quinton. Piper can imagine that if he was in is right mind right now he would be asking why is in charge. Quinton's anaylsis of the noise has her shrugging her shoulders at him and she nods at what he is trying to say. She helps him out there and puts a finger to her lips and shhhhs.

Holden just stands there, looking confused. He holds his hands out at his sides, "Wait… Keep going but stay?" He looks at Pied Piper, "Am I keep goinging or am I staying?" His shoulders slump. He mutters, "No reward is worth this…" Seeing that Quinton is going, he follows, dragging his feet along.

Quinton agrees with Holden, no reward is with this. The man keeps walking, now leading the horses. He's nervous though, eyes scanning the area.

Lincoln has been tagging along, distracted here and there as he looks for things on the ground once in awhile and picking them up to toss in his knapsack. IT is the sound of the rumbling however that has him perked up like a cat about to get a tasty treat. He looks around and then looks at the others, then looks around again. "It's an engine." He whispers it, confident in his statement, "There's nothing else it could be, right? There were rumors of F15s in Colorado even after the First Wave."

There is a bit of eye rolling at Holden and his confusion from Piper as she falls into step with the rest of the group. She lets the guys take the lead as she takes the rearguard position, watching thier backs, not that she is really expecting any trouble. The whispering of Lincoln has her shrugging her shoulders at him as he passes her.

Holden glances at Lincoln. "F15s are different. The government would have them in protected hangers, like giant Faraday boxes. They'd still work." He shakes his head a little, "Could it be an old bike? Like mine?" He sniffs, "I dunno."

Quinton agrees with Linc, it certainly did sound like an engine.He's not sure if that bodes well or not, the fact someone has a working something. He stops the horses again suddenly and points to a patch of trees. Through them , after it's pointed out is a small, poorly constructed and camouflaged shack. Now that Lincoln's walking closer he looks to the other man for his opinion.

For a few moments Lincoln looks at the shack, then in the direction the sound was originating from before nodding towards the shack. "Could be something older. Could be someone got something working. Could be good, could be bad." He shrugs his shoulders, "Well, most likely its bad. Either its them, or its us who will use the technology to squash others without it." Maybe that's why he indicated the shack as a good destination.

Yes there is a shack up ahead in what seems to be a partially cleared out area. As they get closer those with sensitive noses may notice a distinctive sweet coppery smell that lingers in the air. A could more shacks are noticed of various sizes and a number of tents. It's a lot like Camp Hope only on a much, much smaller scale. The source of the smell becomes evident quickly. Blood, lots of it. The residents of this particular camp have been massacred and there bodies lay scattered across the ground, left were they fell. All of them showing multiple gunshot wounds. It's not pretty.

Holden sees all the bodies, and he quickly moves back. "I'm gonna… watch the horses… or something…" And he heads back to the horses rather fast.

Quinton's not really built for this, damn it. He's supposed to be writing poetry and artsy crap. He pales and for a brief moment looks like he's going to be sick. "We…." This looks like its recent…"We should check…" Some one could be alive…theoretically. He breaths shallow and starts walking to check.

Piper is one of those with the sensitive nose and her wrinkles as she gets a whiff of it, the smell turning her stomach the way the smell of certain foods in the morning does. She is able to hold it together until she catches sight of the bodies laying in pools of their crimson blood. Unlike Quinton she does get sick and dashes behind one of the shacks to do so.

Lincoln steps up a bit and places a hand on Quinton's shoulder as gently as he can. "Let me." He offers softly towards the man. Reaching up he pulls his jacket a bit tighter and pulls his hat down some. "You know I don't talk much about what I did… before." He offers to Quinton, as a way of perhaps distracting him as he starts to move closer, slowly, towards the bodies fighting down the revulsion.

Quinton's not gonna leave him on his own, even if he's not really going to be doing much to help. Quin let's him take lead this time, but follows. The talk would be a great distraction, if Quin could foes on it and not the dead people they're walking around. "…What….what were…" He has to turn his head ways when they come across an older woman that reminds him of one o his older neighbors.

Whilst walking, Lincoln holds up a hand towards Quinton, motioning silence as he glances about. There it is again, the quiet groaning noise. Biting his lip, he looks back at the man gives an expression before turning to start to make his way over towards where the sound originating. Just as he is about to step over the body of a young man, he pauses, turning and looking down near the feet of the body, a frown etching further across his face. Once more, he is motioning towards Quinton, to indicate the tracks near the feet of the young man. Finally, he speaks. "Careful. Be ready."

There isn't much in Piper to loose so she isn't off being sick for long. She pulls out her water bottle, drinks, swishes, spits and then drinks a few shallows that don't get spit out. A deep breath is taken and she stares straight ahead, the usual haunted look in her eyes heavier. Locking her eyes on the men she heads over to them, stopping near Quinton, definitely in his personal space, a lot closer to people over 7 than she usually gets almost touching even.

The groaning gets louder as Lincoln approaches, and seems to be coming from a man looking to be in his 40. A bloody hand reaches up to them "They took them. Took them all." the man whispers, before coughing up spit and blood.

Quinton's compassion outweighs his yuck factor, or even probably his self preservation.If there's something else besides be careful that Linc was trying to tell him, he doesn't catch on. He also doesn't seem to notice how close Piper is. Instead he immediately goes down on one knee, grasping the man's hand, "…what?" he's expecting tools. Weapons. Supplies.

Lincoln glances at Quinton as he speaks to the man, moving to crouch down a bit himself to look him over. There's a few moments of contemplation before he starts looking around a bit of the camp also, not going to far but letting the compassionate poet sort deal with it. "We shouldn't stay long." He offers it quietly.

Piper chews on her bottom lip as the man begins to speak. She looks worried about what the man is going to say, even expectant, almost as if she knows what the next words out of the dying man's mouth is going to be.

The man takes as deep a breath as he can, which isn't very. His grip is as weak as his voice "The children." he tries to lift his other hand to gesture but it doesn't get to far "Men came, in trucks and with a bus." more coughing "They were dressed as soldiers. Told us they would take the kids to safety and then come back for us." his eyes close and he is quite for way to long, before starting again "They seemed like military so we trusted them. The kids were loaded onto the bus and drove off. Once the bus was out of sight…" he sighs his head lolling to the side, he isn't going to last much longer "They opened fire on us all.

Quinton's not leaving the man. No one should have to die alone. His hand tightens as his eyes widen at what the man says, any color he had drains out of his face. He glances up at the other two, confusion and a touch of terror flashes across his face. This is every horror movie combined. Too many thoughts to vocalize them all, so Quin looks back down at the doing man, but speaks to the others, "Guns…supplies….then home."

Lincoln nods his head at Quinton's words, moving off to look for the aforementioned supplies, however his expression is definitely wary, so much so that he's even sneaking about as he moves.

The young woman in the group has only one thought and for once Piper vocalizes it loud and clear "No!" she is horrified by the words coming from the man. She can only imagine what if it were her flock that had been taken and the people at Camp Hope shot down. It enough to make her near tears. Quinton's commands have her looking down at the man, reminding her she is with others. She doesn't immediately spring to action. She needs a moment.

It seems like whoever did this also cleaned the camp of most of its supplies. Going through tents turns up a rifle, a journal and full pistol clip, as well as cereal some plastic ware and a handgun, but not much else. These people either had a lot less or the military impersonators were quite thorough in their sacking of the camp.

Quinton looks sharply at Piper, trying to catch her eye, but won't let go of the man's hand. "Penny…supplies." He's trying to give her focus, he can only imagine what she's thinking, probably similar to his own. But they need to get the stuff and then go. If there's weapons here…they might need them. His own hand is starting to shake, his fingers slipping slightly on the dying man's bloody hand.

Lincoln is gone a relatively short time in order to sift through what he needs to before returning to the others. His voice is quiet when he does come back, arms having a few things in them, his knapsack having a few items added to it as well. "We need to go." He informs the pair, eyes drifting over the way towards where the sound of the Truck was. "Quickly."

It takes a few moments for the words to register and to realize that she has been spoken to. Looking down at the man and then at Quinton, she leans over to squeeze the latter’s shoulder. She recognizes her own anguish in his face. Straightening then she looks to Lincoln and gestures with her head to the horses where Holden has taken them to a safe distance and then begins to head that way.

"I'm not…leaving…" But then Quin realizes that any will the man had to live was used up in telling them what happened. He studies the dead man briefly and then lays his hand on his chest before standing up. The knee of his jeans is soaked from where he was kneeling. He'll be upset later, instead, he offers to hep Lincoln carry what he's found back to the horses. So they can turn tail and get away.

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