(2016-03-11) Sneaky Bastard
Sneaky Bastard
Summary: Another encounter with the sneaky Silencer
Date: 3.11.2016
Related: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank. You have to use full URLs, like http://mushname.wikidot.com/logtitle)

The sun has set, but with the onset of spring comes longer days, there are a few stars that dot the sky, but complete darkness and moonrise is still a bit away. The train depot, with it's relics of days long gone is full of shadow and grey.

It's a creeping feeling. Vague at first, the feeling of eyes watching, the feeling of being followed. But as the minutes progress is steadily increases, especially for those with a more acute sense of thier surroundings.

Amy isn't aware of anything special going on. She just wants to find something to do as it's getting dark. She wanders around looking for people, just still basking in the basic idea that she's not alone all the time, as she was for quite a while. Her wandering takes her toward the Train Depot.

The figure of a man in a duster and a broad-brimmed hat skirts along the railroad from the south towards the railyard, a rifle in his hands. Anyone who has met Elan would likely find this figure to be unmistakable, but as he moves through town, his movements become slow and calculated, almost cat-like as he scans his surroundings. There's something wrong, and he knows it. He was going to strip a boxcar for parts, but for whatever reason, noisy endeavors have become a non-option. There's something out there. Something that doesn't belong there, and he knows it. His eyes carry over to Amy's figure, which he recognizes, and continue scanning. His posture lowers closer to the ground, and while he might be tempted to call out a warning, he doesn't this time…he tries to watch the path that she's taking for potential hazards instead, as he slowly advances. Something just isn't right.

There is a noise, a rustle of fabric, the crunch of foot on loose gravel. With the way noise travels in the train yard it is hard to pinpoint location. There, a furtive shadow moves between box cars blink and you miss it, it's that fast. Neither people or animals should move like that.

Quinton was walking back form scavenging, his backpack full and heavy and along green garden hose coiled around one shoulder. He thinks he missed dinner, but hopefully there's left overs. The poet slows as he nears the train depot, sensing something off. His gun is harder to unholster, but he does with narrowed eyes that scan the area.

Amy sees the other men nearby, and gives a wave to Quinton, and then to Elan. "Hi," she calls out.

Elan sees something dart between the boxcars with unnatural precision and speed. Time seems to slow as he spots Quinton unholster his pistol at the same moment, and his rifle goes to his shoulder, not aimed at Quinton, but to the shadow that disappeared between the boxcars. He finally calls out, "CONTACT! Amy, get down!" His upper body crouched, he begins to advance into the railyards more swiftly, his eyes pinned near the last place he spotted the unidentified sound and movement.

<FS3> Quinton rolls Mind: Failure.

<FS3> Elan rolls Alertness: Good Success.

Quinton internally winces. Seeing the direction Elan goes, he waves Amy towards him, "Get behind something, Laura. Stay low." he shoves the rolled up hose at the woman and moves silently towards Elan. The man will most likely need back up, if this is what Quin thinks it is. "Tony….wait…"

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Silencer=stealth Vs Elan=alertness

< Silencer: Success Elan: Failure

< Net Result: Silencer wins - Marginal Victory

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Silencer=stealth Vs Quinton=alertness

< Silencer: Failure Quinton: Success

< Net Result: Quinton wins - Marginal Victory

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Silencer=stealth Vs Amy=alertness

< Silencer: Good Success Amy: Success

< Net Result: Silencer wins - Marginal Victory

Amy is told get down. She blinks, and doesn't know what's going on, so she just runs toward him. "What, what's going on?" she asks, stress in her voice.

Tink, Tink, Tink, Tink. Hard to say what is causing the noise that only Quinton seems to hear, just that it is coming from above them now and the tempo could be footsteps on the metal tops of train cars.

Elan mentally awshits as Amy comes running towards him, and moves as quickly as he can to get between her and…whatever it is that's out there, his rifle up, his eyes scanning the row of boxcars, "There's someone out there and they're dangerous, please stay behind me, I don't want you to get hurt," he says hurriedly. He hears Quinton call out to Tony, and for some reason assumes that he's talking to him. He doesn't hear the noise, "…Quin, I don't think we're alone," his jaw is as stiff as a vice, his eyes lit like torches beneath the awning of his brows as he desperately tries to detect what he can't see, or hear, or smell.

<FS3> Elan rolls Alertness: Success.

Instead of explaining he quietly grunts at Amy, "Hide…Quiet." Since she ran to Elan, he drops the hose onto the ground, freeing the motion of his arms more. Up goes the gun, to trail the tops of the cars. "It's up." It. "Stay with her…." Ignoring the screaming of both Kayla and Piper in his head he starts moving towards a ladder to get a better look. And hopefully not die.

Amy doesn't understand, but given that they both are looking the same way, she gets behind Elan. Lowering her voice a little since they're both complaining about noise. "What's going on?"

This time the figure is actually seen, silhouetted against a darkening sky. It moves, crouched low, along the top of some boxcars a few hundred yards distance. Features are hard to make out, distance and the lighting working against the three survivors. The figure stops briefly gives a quick glance around, before a foot goes back and leaps, landing on another box car well out of jumping range for a normal human. The figure then disappears as it seems to drop between one train car and the next.

Elan aims up at the roofs of the rail cars as soon as Quinton indicates. He wasn't planning on doing anything other than staying with her, he's shielding her body as well as he can with his. As the figure appears, he considers calling out and demanding that it stop, but decides against it. Whatever it is, it already knows that they're there…and it's movements are inhuman. His rifle traces the figure as it leaps, and watches it drop away before he has a shot, "…we're being hunted," he replies to Amy, in a matter-of-fact, somewhat grim tone, "…please, stay behind me, let me stay between you and it," his eyes jump over to Quinton for the briefest of moments before returning to the spot where the figure disappeared, and he gestures with a movement of his head in that direction, not knowing if the other man saw the leaping figure.

Damn it. The blonde man grunts out, "Silencer." He changes direction, gun held up, ready to shoot as he starts moving. Strangely though, it's not in the direction of the leaping gazelle. Instead it's backwards, towards the groups' buildings and closest guard post. Either everyone there is dead, or they need to warn them. Quinton would go after it, but he's got Amy and Elan with him. "…need to alert others."

Amy ducks down a bit when they talk about hunted. "Hunted?" she asks, her voice raising a little, but she's still trying to keep it soft. "By who? Is someone trying to steal our stuff?"

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Silencer=melee Vs Elan=melee

< Silencer: Good Success Elan: Good Success

< Net Result: Elan wins - Marginal Victory

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Silencer=melee Vs Quinton=melee

< Silencer: Good Success Quinton: Failure

< Net Result: Silencer wins - Solid Victory

It's like a scene from a creepy horror movie and the three survivors are the stars. One second Quinton is moving past a boxcar, it's side door open, and the next Yoink! he is being yanked inside, disappearing from view of the other two.

And then Elan is being dived at the figure attempting to tackle him to the ground, the intent to take him down temporarily and then run off. And like most Silencers this guy is a McHottie.

<FS3> Quinton rolls Body: Failure.

Elan barely has time to finish saying, "It's an alien—" before Quinton disappears into the bowels of darkness and all hell leaps at his face. He doesn't know the intent of what's coming at him…only that it's coming, that Amy is behind him, and that he intends to be the stone wall in the way. His left hand advances the butt of his rifle into the spring-heeled Jack on reflex while his right hand holds the stock in a death grip, "RUN FOR -CAMP-!" he shouts back to Amy, the last word coming out as a bark as his whole body moves in melee, his broad shoulders rising up like a cat arching it's back.

There's a low, vibrating sound of metal be3ing hit and then silence from the boxcar where Quinton disappeared into.

Amy gasps when Elan is suddenly attacked. She starts to back off. Covering her mouth, shocked by this. Backing away,s tepping slowly, backward, she watches. She doesn't know what to do. Being yelled at in a suddenly stressful situation doesn't make it easy to just do what he's telling her.

<FS3> Pied-Piper rolls 5: Success.

The butt of the rifle meets the side of the supposed Silencer's face. There is the sickening crack of breaking bone. That's gotta hurt the the man reels backward into the train car he came into. He shakes his head to clear it and gives a roving look to Elan and the scared Amy and leaps upward onto the train car and leaps from boxcar to boxcar, disappearing from view as the man flees to the south.

The rifle goes up to Elan's shoulder near simultaneous with the reeling withdrawal of the contact, it's barrel and the man wielding it almost seeming to grin from having whet their melee with the crepitus of smashing bone as they trace the fleeing target on the path to which it disappears, "C'mere and I'll give ya another hole to shit out, space monkey!" He growls in a single rapid mantra through gritted teeth, his jaw protruding beneath his glaring eyes like some sort of wolf ready to lunge into the chase. That's right, tease the alien assassin. He doesn't move, knowing that Amy is still behind him. The next bark comes out from somewhere deep in his gut, his whole frame moving as he demands, "QUIN! YOU BETTER BE ALIVE!" in ultimatum. Don't make him come in there.

The silence that answers Elan's demand is a heavy one. There is no movement from box that Quinton was thrown into.

Amy continues to back up slowly. WAtching this going on right in front of her. Watching whoever, whatever that was running away doesn't really help. "Who was that, and how does he move so fast?"

The rifle sling goes over the left shoulder as the pistol comes out into Elan's right hand while he answers, "That was an assassin, sent by the aliens to kill everyone here." Well, that's a comforting explanation, "Do you know how to use a pistol, Amy? If you can make for the camp and warn the others, I can cover you. I need to get Quin…I'll be right behind you, the whole way…I promise." His calm seems to have returned…not a peaceful calm, more the calm of a man whose eyes are intently following the path that his target fled in, having reversed the role of predator and prey…a calm like what lies in the center of a hurricane, "…I'm sorry this happened," he says with the same quiet calm. Whether he somehow thinks it's his fault, or he's just reflecting on the fact that he knows Amy is scared might not be entirely clear.

Amy stops backing off. Shaking her head slowly, she has a weird, incredulous smirk on her face. "You're… like kidding right? I don't know what to do with like, an actual gun. If I was like… an RPG character, I'd have um, brawl 0, melee 0, firearms 0. And like, I just got here, just like you. I don't know.. like… who or where to go to warn people."

Elan nods his head once, answering back to Amy quietly, "No problem. Please stay close to me, then. I'm going to grab Quin…" he shifts the pistol to his left hand and pulls a piece of green webbing from his right cargo pocket, "…and we're going to go back where it's safe. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I promise." It's quite a promise, but he seems certain enough of it, whether it's a realistic expectation or not. Whoever or whatever that thing masquerading as a man is, it has bones under it's skin. Bones that break. His pistol stays where the target withdrew, while he starts to step forward, towards the boxcar where Quinton disappeared. For some reason, something inside of him tells him that there was only the one attacker.

The box car, when Elan gets to it, is strangely empty. No Quinton. His gun is on the floor and the door opposite from them is open as well. besides the gun, there's no sign of the poet inside the car.

Amy doesn't move further away from Elan. She'd already stopped. So now she wlaks a bit closer. She does follow, even though he goes toward the train car, instead of back toward the camp.

The hand holding the webbing reaches in and retrieves the pistol, putting it in his empty holster and snapping the strap down over it. The far door is open, and Quin is gone. That was far too fast, maybe even for the spring-heeled Jack he just clubbed. His pistol stays up in front of him as he calmly moves down the row to the door of the next train car, looking inside, still searching for Quin, but perhaps consigning himself to the notion that there may be another silencer as yet undetected, "…if anything else begins to happen, I want you to run for camp. Please. Just get inside the walls where it's safe, if something else jumps."

The cars next to the first one are empty, the the car across isn't. There inside, crumpled in a pile is Quinton. It looks like the Silencer tossed him through the first car to have the man slam into the wall inside the second one. The poet isn't moving except for shallow breathing. So he is alive at least. When they approach there's a strange overpowering scent of red wine and his backpack is soaked with it, broken pieces of the bottles are poking through. It's hard to tell how hurt he is without getting closer.

Amy nods at Elan's instructions, but she doesn't really mean it. If things get stressful again it's not like she's going to be aclear headed, smooth operator. She's going to freeze up. But she nods, and she follows. When they see Quinton, soaked in red wine, she gasps, thinking it's blood.

Elan approaches the boxcar with Amy, grunting softly as he takes one big step up onto the floor of the boxcar and lifting himself in with his leg, stashing both the webbing and the pistol into his belt as he simultaneously reaches his right hand down to help Amy up, while reaching across with his left to start a blood sweep. When he gets to the backpack, he'd unfasten it, pull it off and discard it to check for bleeding beneath it without cutting his hand on the broken glass. "…you should let me teach you to handle a pistol. Soon," he says to Amy. Whatever Quin scavenged is probably about to get forgotten in the boxcar. Sorry, Quin.

<FS3> Elan rolls First Aid: Success.

Amy is going to have trouble just climbing into a boxcar out of the blue like that, so he's really going to have to lift. She watches. "Um… what happened to him, do you know?"

Quinton doesn't make any noise as he's checked over. His backpack, even without the liquid in the bottles, is heavy with something else. The wine has soaked his back, mixing in with the bleeding from some cuts. that's going to sting later. His head is probably a little more concerning, he cracked it, possible against the wall, and he's bleeding from a gash on the right side, somewhere in the hairline near his temple.

Elan moves more once Amy is lifted into the boxcar and his other hand is freed up, "Yeah, he just got thrown out of one train into another, like a ragdoll," he discards the backpack, ripping his poncho right off with a loud tearing sound from under his duster, "Sir, can you hear me?" He's not counting on it. He wraps his poncho around the man's neck firmly and quickly, looping it over. He begins to speak, not really making it clear whether he's speaking to Amy, or just talking to himself, "Significant mechanism of injury, unresponsive patient, possible spinal injury…we're all in danger, there's no time to assess him. I'm going to have to move him like he is, and quickly," he says, and the butterflied length of olive drab webbing extends itself with a single whip-like motion of his wrist, forming a long loop of thick, flat nylon fabric. He crosses it across the man's shoulder and wraps it down around his thigh, then brings it up over the other shoulder, repeating the process, like someone who has done this before. Within about ten or fifteen seconds of starting the process, he has two firm loops in his right hand, holding Quin up by the shoulders, ready to pull him from four points. He looks in Quin's ears and around his eyes intently, looking for cerebro-spinal fluid as he draws the pistol from his belt and begins to pull him towards the door of the boxcar, aiming ahead of him as he goes, "…do you think you'll be able to hop down on your own, Amy?"

Amy blinks. "Oh my goodess. Yes, if he hurt his head, like, he could totally have hurt his neck. So if like… no. You can't move him. If you move him you might paralyze him for life." She takes a deep breath. "Have to bring a doctor here to be sure first."

Elan doesn't have much trouble explaining his reasoning, for someone who's had so little opportunity to speak to anyone about anything in recent months, "If I move him, we might hurt him worse. If I leave him here, he'll almost certainly be killed before we return. I can't clear his spine with a focused assessment when he's not alert and oriented, we don't have a spine board, and even if we could immobilize his spine, I wouldn't be able to cover our egress while I moved him. I'm going to brace his back as best as I can, and hope for the best. Unfortunately, that's all we can do. We could come under fire at any second. We need to get him inside the wall. He's not bleeding out, and this place isn't safe. All I can do is get him to safety, and assess him there," he looks at Amy, "…if we weren't being hunted by kangaroo assassins from beyond, I'd definitely agree with you. But most spinal immobilizations prove to be unnecessary, and his best prognosis for a full recovery is getting him out of here." Well, that was a mouthful. Probably the most he's said all year.

A low groan escapes Quinton, but it's from being moved, not him waking up. The smells if blood mixes with the wine, making a rather unique fragrance. Vampires might like it.

Amy shakes her head. She's not sure she believes it. But she takes a deep breath. She might or might not have been about to argue with him, but then he wakes up? "Hello? can you hear us?"

Elan glances at Quin again as he groans, then looks back at the door, his aim never leaving the path outside, "…well, he's responsive to pain. That's a good sign. Come on, I have to get you both back inside the wall," he lowers his legs out the door, keeping Quin's spine as well-guarded as the situation will allow as he draws him along, "Don't be afraid to tell me if you wake up, now," he mutters as he positions himself at the door of the boxcar, aiming to the south as he positions his body to use it as a lever for lowering Quinton to the ground as gently as possible.

well, yes. pain does do that. Another groan escapes Quin as he's jostled about. There's movement underneath his eyelids, but they don't open, "…there's no coming back…" His voice is slurred and he's definitely not speaking to either of them, "Falling and tumbling….like a wounded bird…"

Elan, after carefully scanning the south, allows himself to shove his pistol in his belt for a second…perhaps against his better judgment, and reaches up to give Amy a hand down while he slowly levers Quinton down to the ground, keeping his back as straight as possible, "I know what I'm doing. I promise," he says, noting her expression.

Amy takes a deep breath again. She's skeptical and the way her eyes narrow, there's no doubt about it. She watches Elan taking care of this. She's letting him do this thing. Though when she gets back to the opening of the boxcar, she stands there. "Um…" she says, looking down at her sandals, and at the ground, and the gap. With Elan helping her down they all go home.

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