(2015-10-07) Choppers & Explosion
Choppers & Explosion
Summary: Scouting mission to find a possible place to move
Date: 10.07.2015
Related: None

There has been talk in the camp of moving, but there has been as much talk about staying. A decision has to be made, and soon. It's not a decision that can be made without knowledge. Like where can they go? Will it be safe? Defendable? Etc. Etc. Etc. Four groups were sent out and each one was sent in a different direction to scout out different areas. The current group of Jules, Quinton, Terry, Bob and Piper were sent south. The route that were given would be familiar to Terry and Quinton. It is the route that was taken when they did the scavenging mission to the gated community with the mansion like houses. The one on the lake. One way in, one way out. Not only is the community fenced in and gated, but most of the mansion like houses are as well. There were others in the group. They went into the town adjacent to the gated golf course community. To scout it out.

When it was said that patrols were going out to hunt for shelter, well, Jules certainly wasn't going to let them go alone. She scavenged up a coat that is a bit too big on her, but rolling the cuffs keeps it plenty out of the way. She's comfortable enough on a horse, having ridden a few in her day for parades with the police force, but she's also content for the slower lope of the beasts instead of a fast gallop. It gave her more control if she needed to reach for her gun and keep the reigns one handed. She remains towards the back of the group, keeping eyes on their back and sides instead of straight head.

Quinton's stayed quiet, mostly just happy to be out and trying to figure out this housing situation. He'll point to a mansion they found the wooden stoves. "That house has been gone through…" He's dressed warmly, and dryly, thankfully. His pale eyes scan the houses, not quite sure what to be looking for, but trying to soak in all the details.

Unlike most city cops, small county Sheriff's in the middle of the midwest have plenty of exposure to horses. Bob set out with the rest of the group on the back of a black mare. He's been content to ride at the very back of the group, keeping up the rear guard as it were, which is his usual MO. It also has the added bonus of meaning he doesn't have to do as much talking. Also, he can sneak in swigs from his flask. No one could possibly know he's drinking, right?

The last mission she renegged on so when this one came up, Piper felt she had to make up for the previous one. She has her rifle cradled in one arm while she holds the reins with the other. She is riding in the middle of the group and as usual hasn't said a thing or made a signal beyond navigational ones. As they ride through the neighborhood, she looks around, interest replacing the stoic expression that has dominated her face throughout the trip.

Terry had spent all that time cleaning his guns.. a rifle, and a handful of handguns.. only to learn the former wouldn't be as useful as the latter. Still, missions don't always go according to plan, so he packed a go-bag and brought it anyway, keeping it slung diagonally across his back, and a gun on his hip for more immediate use. He's up in front, eyes peeled, head on a swivel, sweeping the area. Nerves of steel, but cool as ice.

Jules is on the opposite side of the back of the group from Bob. Both of their instincts almost match, keeping to the back, keeping the group safe. She gives the ex-sheriff a long look before ice eyes return back to the expanse around them. There wasn't really time to catch him drinking, as she's trying to keep an eye on everyone's 2 through six. She chuffs a quiet acknowledgement of Quinton's comment about the house, but otherwise no speaking. Voices disturbed the silence around them which made it harder to hear any upcoming threats.

This neighborhood is a lot like the island one just north of the camp, only on a larger grander scale. Surrounded by water which is surrounded by golf course. Unobstructed views all around, except where it may be blocked by a large house. No one will be sneaking up easily. The only problem is that it's very spread out. 1/2 mile between the houses at some points, with various fence styles that separate property lines.

Quinton gives a soft sigh and nods, mostly towards the whole group. While he seems to be leading the group, he's not trying to take that position. He'll quietly point out a few laces that might work for the farm animals they have currently.

"Shit…You gotta be some kinda bastard to live in a place like this…" Bob remarks off handedly. Sure, quiet is important, but seriously? No one ever got rich like this by being a good guy. Like the others, Bob is armed. His 44 on his hip and his rifle slung across his back.

Putting the strap of her rifle over her head so it hangs across her back, Piper pulls her notebook from a saddlebag, pulling her horse to a halt. Piper isn't the best artist, she's more of a doodler than anything, but she begins to sketch out the neighborhood as best she can. There is a bit of a nod to Quinton as he points out places and notes those as well. Her pencil pauses though when Bob speaks up, and she looks back at him with a frown on her face. She just might have taken offense to that.

A cold sort of laugh catches from Jules' throat at Bob's statement, "In general, yes, Robert…" She always called him Robert, not Bob, a strange affectation between the two. Maybe she just did it to annoy him. As they come up on the next house, she nods towards it. "If that one hasn't been searched, we might as well start going through them one by one. See how bad the interiors are. How good the locks are. Yes, the island is defensible, but once the fuckers get out here… we'll be a bit spread up. Need to be able to barricade the places. And see if they are structurally sound. Bunch of these cookie cutter mansions aren't always." It's possibly the most Jules has ever said to anyone in a group.

"No kidding. I had something close.. maybe a bit less of a shine, but close. Didn't come cheap, though. Years of hard work and perseverance." Terry responds, shifting around in his seat every so often to keep the blood flowing. Not like he has poor circulation or anything, but still.. When Jules speaks up, he nods a few times. "Yeah. Scope out the homes, see what we can scavenge, eyeball the layouts.. With a little elbow grease and time, we could turn this place into 'Fort Hope'."

Quinton frowns, shaking his head at bob's comment, but won't rspond. Instead to Jules, "Most were…locked…seemed steady enough." Enough for everyone at camp to have a roof over their heads, at least. Fort Hope. That brings a small smile to the poet's lips.

Bob eyerolls at Jules. He looks over his shoulder. And takes another swig from his flask when he does so, sneaking it back into the inner jacket pocket. He looks back over to the others, mostly Terry, brow quirked. He looks at the mansions, then at Terry, "Somethin close to this?" A beat pause, "So you were a dirty cop then?" As to where they start, Bob seems to have no comment.

Piper continues to sketch the neighborhood, yeah it isn't going to be to scale, but that's what her written notes are for. She listens to the conversation but has nothing to add to it at the moment. Once her quick sketch is done she looks up and around, waiting for someone to do something. Like head to one of the houses like was suggested.

"No, I wasn't a dirty cop. … I'm not one, either." Terry responds, glancing to Bob, with a wince. "I was just good at my job." He continues glancing around, and then to Bob again. "For every one of those shit-sticks tarnishing the badge, there's ten more trying to put the shine back on." And he's one of the latter. … He glances around to one of the houses. "..Where do we start?"

An all out smirk comes from Jules at Bob's words, she just shaking her head slowly but not actually jiving back. It wasn't worth poking the bear. She, instead, just kicks her leg back and slips down off of her horse. "Need a few people on horse duty and a few people inside with me. We do a basic sweep of the house. In and out fast, go onto the next one. Work for everyone? Terry. I know you can do a sweep. Come with me."

"Uh huh…" Bob mutters in reply. He was a Sheriff for over a decade, deputy Sheriff for another decade. More than twenty years in, he couldn't have come close to one of these monstrosities. He trots along on the horse, "Don't really matter anymore does it? We all got a clean slate when they came…" This isn't spoken loudly, just muttered to himself.

He slides off his horse and looks to the others, "We can tie the horses off, two team, we can sweep and clear double the houses in the same amount of time."

Quinton will climb off his horse, asking softly, "I'm decent…at searching..I can do either." Afer a glance to Piper he looks back to see what Jules wants, as she seems to have taken control.

Oh, people are getting off horses now…this is going to be awkward. Putting away her notebook Piper begins to clumisy process of getting off her horse. Getting on the thing was so much easier, she has a big rock to help her with that part, not so with the getting off. She manages to get one leg over after scooting back as far as she can against the saddle and starts the slide down to the ground.

As the group is tying off the horses and deciding who goes where with whom a familiar, rapid thik,thik,thik sound can be heard to the east and seems to be heading in the groups direction.

Leave it to the oldest guy left in the world…sort of…to be the first to hear the helicopter approaching from the east. He was just tying off his horse and a moment later, Bob has unslung his rifle and is peering through the scope up towards the sky, to the east.

He snaps his fingers twice and points in that direction, "We've got incoming. We need to get some cover, pronto."

Trying to organize people, Jules doesn't quite hear that sound yet. There is a moment of a furrowed brow, but she looks wary at the thought of tying up the horses. "We probably weren't followed but leaving the horses alone doesn't sound like a great plan. We have the night…" And then she goes quiet. Maybe she was hearing something. Her eyes look to Bob for confirmation, and then to Terry, the people she trusts most to have a full situational awareness. And Bob's words confirm it a heartbeat later. "Come on… House. Now. We can collect the horses after, if we're all alive." And she's double timing for that nearest house. If the door is locked, she'll try to kick it out.

Quinton's too busy trying to help piper off the horse for his sharp ears to pick up on anything. But thankfully they're warned. He'll follow everyone to the house, making sure Piper gets in.

Terry unpacks his rifle, and zeroes in on the inbound aircraft. At this distance, however, all he can do is confirm… yes, it's an aircraft, and yes, it's coming this way. He shoulders the rifle, still on safe, and double-times it after Bob. Assuming the door needs kicking (it might not even be locked, after all), and no one else steps up, he'll do the job.

Thanks to Quin, Piper isn't faceplanting at least. That's good. She does her the chopper though, and that's bad…the chopper, not that she heard it. She frowns looking upward and searching the skies to the east to pinpoint the aircraft. No such luck as she is being ushered along toward the house by the poet. Not that much ushering is needed she certainly doesn't want to any of them to be spotted by the enemy.

On his way to the house, Bob slings his rifle back over his shoulder and unholsters his 44. The big barreled revolver is pretty much exactly what you'd expect an old school country Sheriff to carry. Unless you expected them to carry an old Colt Navy.

Bob will wait till everyone is through the door. He doesn't want a bunch of people with guns entering behind him, that's how you accidentally get shot in the back by someone with an itchy trigger finger. "Let's get up stairs. Force em into a bottle neck, gets us a buffer zone and we can get rifles in the windows."

Locked, but certainly not a strong door, Jules is already on the job of kicking it out. She's just moving on quick instinct now. Once the door is open, she does a fast sweep of the room from her side with a gun. One of the others is welcome to come sweep the opposite way with her, but right now she just wants to get people inside. She lingers near the door, but inside, waiting for even Bob to get in. "Sounds good. I'll make certain it's clear…" And she'll end up doing the sweep dance up the stairs, the landing… all the way to the upper floor. She would rather them not walk straight into being shot while running from other enemies.

At this distance and with how high the craft is flying about the only thing that can be made out is that it is a military helicopter. A small one, big enough for pilot, co-pilot and maybe six more if they got really friendly. It's heading directly for them, but doesn't seem to be descending at this point.

Waddling as fast as she can Piper heads into the house and is further ushered up the stairs. Lots of rooms to pick from to wait up here. She doesn't wander though she waits in the sizable landing at the top of the stairway, letting Jule and Bob sweep the empty house.

The handgun on Terry's hip comes into play as he joins in the sweep of the house. Once the sweep's done, he holsters his sidearm and switches back to his rifle, settling into one of the nearby windows, liking the vantage point.

Empty. Blessedly empty. Not even bodies, though there was some blood on the walls. Someone had the red death here at some point. Still, there have been worse houses and worse places to end up. Jules finishes her part of the sweep in the back bedroom, calling down the hall, "All clear here. Is the bogey coming any closer? Either of you boys with a rifle good at sniping work? We might be able to pick off the pilot… I'm a pretty good snipe shot myself." But she only had pistols on her right now.

Once everyone's in, Quin follows suit and pulls his gun, although he doesn't sweep the house, letting the others do so. He frowns softly, unsure. "Do we…are there any markings?"

Once the sweep is done, Bob comes to the head of the stairwell. "Jules, take the top of the stairs. Quin, back her up. That's zero ground, we can't give it up if they come in." And with that, Bob unslings his rifle and moves into one of the bedrooms with windows facing the street.

He'll start by peering for the chopper before he takes up position, back a few feet away from the actual window on the bed so he's out of major sightlines. He lines up his rifle, staring through the scope and waits.

"You need some poor sod ventilated, I'm good for it." Terry responds, before unpacking his own kit and laying things out inside the room, as Bob had done at his own spot. Terry glances around the area, figuring out some distance and height markers based on nearby buildings and things, before returning to his rig. He field-strips the rifle, gives it a quick eyeballing, deems it battle-ready, and reassembles it before settling in.

As the group sweeps the house and takes defensive positions the chopper maintains its course and altitude as it speeds ever closer to where the group is hiding in the large luxury home. As the chopper begins to fly over head its presence becomes secondary, to the large explosion that is heard from the east and sets the house to shaking hard enough that pictures fall off the walls and a few lamps shake their way off side tables to crash to the floor.

Since the men are seemingly more than quite happy to be the rifle squad, Jules follows orders. She stakes herself right at the top of the stairs, pistol held close and pointed to the floor in a safety position until the second she'll need it. The sound of the explosion nearly makes her slip down one of those stairs, but she catches herself, "What the fuck?" She hisses. "Report?" She calls back to someone near a window.

Quinton can only imagine the horses all in tiny bits now. he moves to the top of the stairs as well, positioning himself to fire if needed. Although he's thinking that his pistol isn't going to do much against a rocket. wtf.

"Came from the same direction as the chopper. Not sure what it was, but it wasn't the chopper." Bob calls out from his position. He keeps the helicopter in his sights, looking for a chance to take out the pilot. No pilot, chopper goes boom. Bada big boom to be specific.

"Confirm, not the chopper." Terry nods, trying to get a bead on the chopper… pilot, rotor, something. He mutters a quick Hail Mary to himself before dialing in the scope a bit more. His finger stays off the trigger, since he doesn't intend on aerating anything just yet.

"…alright. Not the chopper… Not from the direction of camp, was it?" Jules asks that, trying to keep emotion out of her voice. Cold, flat facts. That's all she wants. "…wasn't on this island either, or we'd be in a lot worse shape. What's the chopper doing now? Going past?" Her voice is calm and business like, trying to keep a head on the situation for everyone. No need to panic, freak or shoot or any reason right now, there were no enemies easily in rage.

"Enemy of my enemy…Don't fire…just…watch." They should figure out what they're ups against, and if they even should be, honestly. Quin's not in a place to be able to look out a window, but he will look to make sure Piper's ok.

The chopper still isn't in range, so Bob just keeps it in his sights, "Can't get a bead on the pilot from here, still too far out." He pauses and then shouts again, "Explosion was no where near the camp. Due east, same direction the chopper came from."

Choppers, explosions, maybe she should have renegged on this one too. Piper puts a hand to the wall as she building shakes beneath her barefeet. She looks at the others, she's a bit shaken by sudden event. She is trying to hide it and is doing a barely passable job at it. She looks to the others, worried though Jules specifically gets a pointed look, a question is there, but it is left unspoken.

After the explosion the chopper finally changes its bearing, banking to the northwest. Whatever it was doing the odds are it has more to do with the explosion to the east than it does with the group hiding in the house.

There is just a moment, as she feels eyes on her, that Jules looks over to Piper. She keeps that gaze a second, but no longer. After that, she pointedly *does not* look at the woman at all, perhaps noticably avoiding her gaze. But everyone has more things to worry about that the pair of women, right?

Terry follows Bob's lead, peering through his scope and continuing to try to get a bead on something actionable. When the chopper veers away, he takes his eye off the scope. "Chopper's taking off.. northwest, looks like." Beat. "All clear." He says, tentatively.

Well, Quin was looking at Piper, so he does catch the brief glance between the two woman, but logs it for later thought, there's explosions and stuff to deal with now. His hand is flexed and the grip on his gun loosened, but he doesn't put it away. "We need to figure out…where their home base is…" And maybe move away from it.

"Let's hold this position for a bit. They might double back. Odds are they at least saw the horses, they may try to get us when we exit." Bob offers up, by way of suggestion.

He does however add on, "And odds are this is a bad place to move in to. It's on their flight path."

Taking a look out the window to the east shows nothing strange. It looks the same now as it did earlier.

With the all clear given, Piper is about to head down the stairs, though Bob suggesting they hold tight for awhile has her pausing and looking back at the group. She has that face that suggests she has something to say, but of course in this company she is unable to say it. And about all her hand signs suggest is that is has something to do with outside.

Bob gets off the bed and starts to search the bed room while they wait for enough time to pass. In his searching, he comes across a gun safe, a couple books of strikingly different subject matter and some beef jerky. These items are all stowed in his backpack and he moves ot the bedroom door, "Somethin aint right about that explosion. No smoke, no fire…No nothin. Doesn't seem right to me."

"On the plus side, I found a surgical manual. Might be helpful for the doc." Nope, he's not going to mention the book of poetry…or the gun. Those are his.

Quinton sighs, rubbing his face. He can't argue the logic of not begin in the flight path, he's just unsure where to take the group now. When he sees the look piper's giving he shakes his head, actually agreeing with everyone else. He searches as well, not finding anything too useful. It's good that Bob doesn't mention the book…things don't need to be more stressful than they already are.

Scavenging Rolls

1 Partial tube of Antibiotic Ointment
4 Cans of Soup
3 Cans Apricots
1 Trench coat with pocket knife
1 Vitamin C chews
1 Powdered Chocolate Quik
1 Book-Fiction-Cantonese Language
4 Bags of Dried Beans
1 Book - Manual of Surgery, Volume III
2 Vac Bags of Beef Jerky
1 Book - Poetry - Author: Quinton A. Wells
1 Pistol Mag w/5 bullets
1 1/2 Bottle of Hydrogen Peroxide
3 Cans of Soda
2 Gallon Bottles of Cooking Oil
1 Propane Camp Stove

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