(2016-05-20) Under Fire
Under Fire
Summary: The group comes under attack after a day of successful scavenging
Date: 5-20-2016
Related: No TSA Required
Players:
bob..james..pied-piper..quinton..terry..

A large group of people from Camp Hope drove down to Amarillo to search some places there. The airport was a big one, and took most of the day. But lots of necessities were found, some weapons, much needed medical supplies, food, clothes, booze, lots of suitcases, but now it is time to leave and the final things are being packed into the trailers so they can depart before it gets to dark.

Quinton and Piper spent most of the time in the back room of the luggage carrel. Quin seems to be having a good day, word wise, speaking in mostly full sentences and even getting most people's names right. He'll help load up the suitcases and duffle bags they filled with the items they found into the trailers.

Terry rolls right up to the trailers, pushing a fully-loaded luggage cart. He helps to load the contents of the cart, before setting the cart off to one side, out of the way, and assisting the others with their loading tasks.

Having also arrived at the airport as well, but a bit later than the others, for he saw a crowd come in, and beings that he did not do so well in crowds, decided to wait until it was not so dense to begin scavenging anything and everything he could due to his long journey over to Amarillo, James seeder, a tall lanky man in his twenties, with dark brown hair, and piercing blue eyes, gazes at the crowd of people that had occupied the airport for quite some time before he arrived. In his wish to remain alone for the time being, he quietly sneaks into the airport, trying to avoid any faces at the moment so as not to be seen.

While the men and some of the others are packing the trailers, Piper is standing in the bed of one of the trucks, using the added height to watch their surroundings. The group is in unfamiliar territory and it never hurts to be on guard in that situation. She of course is as silent as she ever is when in mixed company. Her eyes scan the horizon and their surroundings, keeping a watchful eye out, rifle in her hand.

Quinton looks around as well. The man is armed, well, most of them are. But his pistol is not pulled. It's been a fairly relaxing day so far and he's not looking for it to be any different going home. He hopes, anyway.

A glint of light off to the west, on top of one of the buildings, causes Terry to bark "Cover!" He then makes for the nearest bit available, and goes for the binoculars in his pack. His training kicks in, and he begins tactical breathing, trying to calm himself down, as he tries to get a bead on the threat.

James still keeps his head low, looking about himself, as he spots the trailer nearby, but does not approach, instead he heads for the entrance to one of the buildings of the airport, trying to find some supplies he can pick up for himself. he hears a voice shout behind him, and the training his father gave him, causes him to think quickly. He runs, almost into a sprint to get behind one of the buildings, thinking that he has already been seen by those that were already there.

As soon as Terry says the word and he begins to move the shot rings out. A bullet slams into the trailer that Terry was packing. Had he been a few seconds slower, or not noticed the flash of light, that bullet would have went into his brain. Moments later the one shot is followed by others, more from the west and some from the south. Bullets ricochet off cars, the trailers the campers have with them or sink into buildings or fly through the windows of the terminal building, shattering them to pieces.

If the words weren't enough the gunfire is, Piper is quickly ducking and getting off her truck bed perch, not wanting to be an easy target for the hostiles that are firing at them.

Quinton dives low, scrambling to get his pistol out of it's hosted. The only indication of where they're at is where the bullets are raining down on them. He yells over the noise, "Anyone…hit?"

"I'm good!" Terry responds, nodding to Quinton, and looking around for the others, while readying his own weapon. No time to set up a sniper shot, so his handgun will have to do. PK380, don't fail me now…

James observes the shots, and realizes that the people from the trailer are not firing at him, but that they themselves are being fired upon. Silently, he follows the sounds of the hostile's shots, but keeps close to the walls for cover, silently bounding closer to the noise of the shots, trying to keep a close ear on the sounds of the shooting until he can get a close eye on them, as he takes his father's colt 45 out of his waist band, he murmuring to himself, "Ok, let’s see what ya can do now." he says as he holds his pistol in front of him, still running between the buildings, seeking cover, trying to get behind the hostiles that are taking pot shots at the folks perched atop the trailer.

James observes the shots, and realizes that the people from the trailer are not firing at him, but that they themselves are being fired upon. Silently, he follows the sounds of the hostile's shots, but keeps close to the walls for cover, silently bounding closer to the noise of the shots, trying to keep a close ear on the sounds of the shooting until he can get a close eye on them, as he takes his father's colt 45 out of his waist band, he murmuring to himself, "Ok, let’s see what ya can do now." he says as he holds his pistol in front of him, still running between the buildings, seeking cover, trying to get behind the hostiles that are taking pot shots at the folks perched atop the trailer.

Movement can easily be seen where the shots are coming from, but this seems to be a trained group and probably have some way to communicate. While one group fires the other moves and vice versa. They are obviously trying to keep the Hopers pinned down until they get to a more defensible location.

Taking cover behind a car that is already missing a window because of the barrage of fire, Piper speaks up for the first time in hours. "Fine!" she calls out, though she would probably say that if she were shot, so it might not be the reassurance it should be. Cycling the action on her rifle she pokes her head up and looks in the directions the hostiles are at. The moving ones or the firing ones. Guess it doesn't matter, she aims, fires and a cry of pain is heard, and a body can be seen falling from the second floor of the parking garage, landing in the bushes below. She's going to feel bad about that later.

Quinton tenses until he hears Piper. She's at leafs fine enough to call out, Quin will take it. He snarls, scooting closer to the trailer for cover and aims and fires. His isn't as clean shot, but there's the sound of glass breaking and a muffled cry.

Front sight, trigger press, follow through. Simple instructions enough, good to remember in cases like this. Terry falls back on his training, picking a target, zeroing in, and cooking off a round. Scratch one hostile. He's in the game now.

James continues to watch this as he sprints from building to building, his eyes and ears on constant alert, until he hears the shooting a bit behind him. Noticing this, he finds a suitable building, and finds a place to scale the wall until he gets to the roof. Once there after a bit of climbing, he takes aim at the hostiles from behind, and lets rip a few shots, hitting one in the back, and another in the head, aiming with not too bad accuracy, and signals to those on top of the trailer to keep low.

The large group of Camp Hopers, came to Amarillo Airport to do some scavenging. They had some really good luck at it too until they were about to leave. Now the group is being fired at from the west and the south, pinning the group down with nothing but vehicles for cover, while the group that is firing on them, now short 5 or 6, move through the parking garages to south and west. More shots ring out, one slamming into the trailer tire that Quinton is ducking behind, the windshield of the car Piper hides behind shatters as multiple bullets hit it, glass flies everywhere, but cuts from glass are better than a bullet hole. A couple of bullets slam into the masonry of the building Terry is taking cover from, pieces of brick go flying too.

Piper ducks down, brushing glass from her hair…not that it helps, her hair is a magnet for debris of any sort. She fires off another shot but this time misses…first time for everything.

Quinton grunts as more bullets slam around everyone. He's not in a prime position to fire at anyone really. So instead he glances behind them, trying to see if there's a retreat that could take. Or more baddies showing up.

Terry 's luck seems to be off to a good start today. He continues cooking off rounds, at the very least trying to keep the hostile forces at bay, if not put them down period. As he notices his clip running low, he readies a secondary clip from his kit-bag, and in one fluid motion ejects the spent clip, racks in the fresh clip, and continues firing.

James in seeing that the firefight is still going on between the hostiles and the trailer dwellers, gives a shrill whistle over to the trailer folk, and cups his hands to shout to them, "All of ya’ll, keep low, I’m a friendly, I’ll take them out from behind, just keep at them from the front." He says and then reloads his 45, and expertly aims at another, shooting him almost dead center in the base of his neck before aiming at another, trying to target the vitals of his prey, letting off another shot, shooting him almost in the spinal column, his eyes also on the trailer folk trying to maintain their position.

Mayor he may be, but Bob isn't above scavenging runs and so he came with the group. He'd been back in the terminal, packing up supplies when the gunfire rang out. It took him a bit to get close enough to take a shot, lining up the scope on his hunting rifle and firing off a round down range. Bob is a good shot, even if he was never officially a sniper with any group. He doesn't wait to confirm his shot, instead, moving down between the vehicles, "Sound off! What's our status?"

Well there is less firing now that the group has taken down quite a few of the hostiles, but it is still going on, though more sporadically. James, being the closest to one group of hostiles will note that the group, all dressed in military camo, and all rather young looking, have called a retreat and are trying to do so.

Piper switches targets, firing in the direction the shots are coming from, she isn't sure if she hit anyone, but she heard the unfamiliar voice and the enemy of your enemy is your friend kinda thing so she is firing, "Fine." she calls out in answer to Bob, the same answer she gave when Quinton asked the same thing.

Who the heck is that? Quin crawls a little on the ground, trying to keep low but still fire. He wishes he had a riffle with him now. His voice is a little scratchy , but he calls back to Bob, "I'm…good!"

Bang..bang..bang..*click*. The sound no shooter ever wants to hear. A jam. Terry takes cover, and begins attempting to clear the jam. Come on, come on, come on…

James in now getting a closer look at the young camouflaged military personnel, gives a rapid burst of fire to the young soldiers making a retreat, and grins as he does, looking down at them and saying, "You boys shoulda looked behind ya when ya had the chance." He says, as he continues to fire off bursts of focused rapid fire along their right side flank, managing to pick a few of them off, hitting one in the side of the head, watching the bullet go right through the right side of his skull, then he hits another directly in the throat, as he watches him go down, choking on his own blood. He calls to the trailer folks, once more, "You folks ok?"

Popping up around the car he was hiding behind, Bob pops off another round and pulls back the lever to eject the shell. The body hits the ground before the shell does. Bob doesn't go back into hiding, he starts walking in the direction of the other members of the camp. "Terry, report." His tone adds 'Fucking now!'. His steps are slow, but purposeful as he continues to close the distance between his people and himself.

"Long story short, we came, we saw, we scored loot, started packing up, and then the shooting started." Terry glances around, double-checking before continuing. "No injuries on our side." Another quick pause and check. "We've got them on defense. If we keep this up, we're golden." Terry continues working to clear the jam from his gun.

With the final shoots from Bob and James the hostile fire ends, leaving the area in a ghostly silence a few seconds before Bob fills it with his shouting.

Piper leans against the car for a few moments, waiting for more weapon fire, but with none forthcoming she cautiously stands, moving quickly to check on Quinton to make sure he is okay, despite him saying he was.

Quinton rolls out and up. His shirt and jeans are dirty, but he's fine. He's moving towards Piper's location as well, reaching a hand to take hers as he looks in the direction of the unfamiliar voice, "We are." Bob gets a glance, he's in charge, he should talk to the unknown.

After the shooting stops, and he spots no more hostiles, James stands up, and climbs down from his perch atop the building that would have been behind the hostile force, and hurries over to the other people gathered around the trailer, dropping his weapon from his hand, signaling that he is a friendly. "Don't shoot, I aint gonna hurt any of yawl. The name's James seeder. I saw that all of yawl were in trouble, so thought I’d give some help. They all gone now. They aint comin back anytime soon, think I gave those boys a scare, and if they do come back, i'll give them another scare." He says, with a grin, holding out his hand in a gesture of peace.

Quinton gets a glance and a nod from Bob as he moves towards James, aka The Unknown. His steps are still slow and he has his rifle at the ready. It isn't pointed at James, but it is pointed towards the ground in his direction, "That's far enough…" he says slowly and looks over his shoulder, "That true Terry? This fella did all the work on those kids while you lot just sat around watchin'?" He grins at Terry and then looks to Piper, "What about you Piper? Whatcha figure?"

"Exactly. And I'm not a natural brunette, my hair's brown because I spend so much time with my head up my ass.." Terry responds, rolling his eyes. "I took down my fair share of hostiles." He finishes checking his weapon over, and secures it.

The hand is taken, and Piper is obviously relieved, the poet, that would be Quinton, tends to be a bullet magnet and at least this time he is free of holes caused by them. Bob addressing her pulls her attention toward him and then to James. Her dark eyes study the newcomer for a long moment and then she looks back to Bob "Clean."

Quinton stays quite, but does move to stand a little bit in front of Piper, not enough to block her view, but slightly protective. That could be why he's a bullet magnet. The poet stays quiet for now, letting Bob do the talking for them.

Terry shifts around, and glances to Bob, deferring to his judgment on what their next move should be. Until such time as a move is decided, he'll hold position, give his weapons a quick scrub, re-up on ammo, that sort of thing.

James then notices the rifle pointed at the ground in his direction, and quickly takes a few steps back, keeping his hands raised as he does, his gaze flitting from one person to the other as he stands there, not making a single move.

Piper and Terry giving their input, Bob cants his head to the side, eyeing James. He hasn't taken the offered hand yet, though he does shift his rifle just a bit into a less, 'I'm gonna shoot you' position.' "No offense, we ain't so quick to trust 'round here. You helped out, we appreciate that, but…not every wolf looks like a wolf, you know?" He pauses and looks over James, "I'm Bob." He pauses, not seeming apologetic about his rifle, "You been out here alone all this time?"

With Bob and Terry dealing with James, Piper gives Quinton's hand a squeeze before slipping hers free. There is a tire to change, things to finish packing into trailers and double checking to make sure everyone else is okay. Things she is capable of seeing too, even though she can't get more than two words out today.

Quinton studies James, eyeing not only the man, but his equipment as well. You can tell a lot about a person by that. Piper's hand is squeezed in return and he lets her go do her thing.

Yeah, can honestly say I have. My family died during the viruses, and well, aint got nothin to go back too, so yeah, just be wanderin mostly, just trying to find me some food and shelter. I happened along here, and saw them boys come out of nowhere, and well, they almost killed them people here. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't help my folks, so I thought I could help you all, if ya'll, want, I’ll just take what I have and go, I aint wantin to be a bother to anyone." James says sadly, before picking up his gun, placing it back into his waistband, as he turns to leave, gazing back at those that are studying him, becoming more tense by the minute.

Terry gives James a long glance. "I don't hear anyone calling you a bother. I, for one, appreciate the assist." He glances around to the others, offering a brief shrug.

Bob watches James warily for a moment longer still, seemingly unsure. Bob is always wary about new additions, "Hold up." he says finally with a sigh and pulls off his dirty old trucker hat, running a hand through his shaggy graying hair. He hat is put back on his head. "You helped me folk out, so if you need a place to stay, we've got one." He glances over his shoulder to Quinton and Terry, brow raised. He pulls out his flask as he waits and looks back to James, taking a swig from it and then recapping it. Bob doesn't share whiskey it seems. The flask is put back into his coat pocket.

Quinton nods to Bob, agreeing that offering the man a place to stay is the right thing to do. Quin offers, "We could always use more …people on the watch." This guy seems decent with a gun.

James then turns back, and comes back to the group, "Well, thanks for that. I aint asking for much, just some shelter is all, and something good to eat, after that, I’ll be on my way if ya’ll don't want any more help, but if ya’ll do, I’ll be glad to stay as long as ya’ll would want me, sorry for turning and trying to run as I did, just aint use to people talkin to me in a long time, I’ve been alone for that long you see, well, to put it specifically, it’s been a year, and I’ve hated every minute of it. But whatever ya’ll require of me, I’ll help." He says, facing the group of men as he speaks.

"Everybody pitches in, we all survive another day." Terry nods. "It's a dog-eat-dog world." He shifts his pack around, and pops a few joints, sighing contentedly.

Bob lets out a slow breath and nods at James once, "Uh huh. Right." he nods to Terry and Quinton, "We'll get you sorted then. You gotta give up your guns to Terry when you first come in. You'll get em back in a few days." a beat pause, "Again, wolves may not look like wolves. We just like to make sure everyone is good and peaceful when they join up." he slings his rifle over his shoulder, "We got food, shelter, clean water."

James gives a nod, "Sure thing. Just as long as you be careful with it, my colt 45 is all I have. It was my dad's gift to me before I went off to college before all this stuff happened, and well, it’s my only thing I have to remember them by." He says as he takes his gun out of his waist band, and hands it over to terry, allowing him to inspect it.

Quinton blinks, a little surprised at the man's rambling as well. But he supposes being alone that long would make someone stir crazy. James gets a nod, but he'll wait to introduce himself till later. They should get moving, if the raiders come back with back up, it won't be good.

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