(2016-05-24) Out for a Drive
Out for a Drive
Summary: Piper, Quinton, Terry and Elijah are out for a drive. What will they find?
Date: 05.24.2016
Related: None.

Purnell Ave. Stratford
Tue May 24, 2016 — Tue May 24 20:28:57 2016

While Main Street continue to head off to the north, the town itself pretty much ends where Purnell Avenue crosses it. The commercial area continues to the west, while sprawling to the east it is all residential homes and the occasional double wide trailer.

It is spring. The weather is cool and stormy.

Elijah -
John -
Pied-Piper - 5'1", small frame, early 20's. Light brown skin, dark eyes and hair but otherwise racially ambiguous. Lots and lots of long, lightish brown, kinky hair pulled back in dual ponytails at the nape of her neck.
Quinton - A tall, wiry man with scruff on his face and shaggy blonde hair.
Terry - 6'1", 175lbs of pure Massachusetts muscle. Brown-hued hair in a high-and-tight haircut. Green eyes. Camo jeans, GORE-TEX hikers, and a black shirt.
Exits: [AMC] AMC 8 Theatre [CS] Chestnut Street (CS)
[LD] The Last Drop [NG] National Grasslands
[NTS] N. Texas Street (NTS) [SL] Stratford Lanes

The sun has set and darkness has come to call on the group that has had quite a successful day in hunting, and for those that don't hunt, foraging from plants out in the Kiowa Grasslands. That kinda trip, even though it is only about five miles away requires a truck, so it is in that the hunting/foraging group comes slowly riding into town. Though it is dark, only the running lights are on. No use advertising to any potential hostiles out there with blazing headlights. In the back are a couple of deer, and a few turkey, along with those that can't fit in the cab.

Elijah had come to help forage, not being much use with a gun still, but also in case any medical help was needed. As usual, his medical bag is over his shoulder. In addition to that, today he has a backpack resting at his feet in the cab as they make their way across. The doctor's gaze goes up to the sky a moment as they travel.

Thank God the sun has gone down. John feels like he has been walking for forever, and his feet agree. He debates stopping somewhere to find shelter for the night, but word on the road says the settlement is close. Then again, they might not like a well armed man coming up on them in the dead of night. He reaches for his canteen, unscrews the top, and pours the last few drops down his throat. That set things straight. He needs to find a water sources before bedding down for the night…so it's time to keep trudging.

Quinton has been quiet for the most part, although when he does talk he seems to be fairly with it. He's in the back, keeping lookout. His pistol is in its holster, and he has a shot gun a gross his lap, ready to use.

Terry is in the driver's seat, keeping an eye on the road as he skillfully moves the vehicle from place to place. His kit-bag hangs off of the seat-back, rifle squirreled away nice and proper. He doesn't take his eyes off of the road — not that he needs to, thanks to his training; he has eyes in the back of his head. "Another day at Camp Hope.." He mutters to himself, his expression rather neutral.

With Terry and Eli taking up the cab, and with her better than average night vision, Piper is in the bed of the truck as well, she stands though, leaning against the back of the cab, arms crossed against the roof, her own rifle cradled in her arms. She scans the landscape on the opposite side Quinton does. For the moment she is quiet, just enjoying the wind against her face and in her hair. It's been a pretty good day for her, she has even done some talking.

John puts his canteen away, and decides to slow his pace so his eyes will adjust to the dark of the night. He does a quick inventory of his items, touching weapons, ammo, and supplies. "Where the hell is this damn town?" He growls to himself. Once his eyes are adjusted he picks up the pace with a slight jog. As he jogs, he pulls out some venison jerky and begins to munch on it as he moves.

Quinton glances over towards Piper, just making sure she's OK before glancing back to his side if the terrain.

Terry continues "Driving Ms. Daisy," keeping his eyes on the road, minding his speed, and all that. In spite of it all, he finds himself enjoying the scenery, bleak as it may be. It's a change from the walls of the camp, so that's something.

Piper is doing just fine as she watches their surroundings though as she does so she tenses and taps the slow down signal on the roof of the truck. In a quick movement the rifle is no longer cradled but being held with purposeful intent. The beauty looks through the scope of the weapon "Quinton," she says as she stares through it "have company." she says. She isn't talking well enough to give much more detail than that, but it should be enough.

Elijah's gaze comes back to the cab and around them at Piper's words, the doctor sitting up a bit more and trying to catch sight of whatever it is the woman had spotted. Or wait was he supposed to get down? No they'd yell an order for that…right?

John can hear the truck coming from behind him. He knows they have probably already seen him, but practiced nerves immediately cause him to jump sideways and off the road. He attempts to find some cover, and his hand goes to his pistol on his belt.

Quinton taps on the back of the wall of the cab, so terry can be aware. he the lifts his own scope to look for the person Piper's mentioning. "He's armed." That's not a surprise, everyone is now a days.

Terry isn't exactly in a position to really shoot at much of anything — not with an optimal level of accuracy, at least — so all he does is give an acknowledging knock on the back of the cab, and continue driving. He'll stop, but only if told. Otherwise, he figures, a moving target would be more difficult to hit, so best to keep moving.

Piper has no trouble seeing the man now, even without the use of the scope on her rifle. As they draw closer she studies him, and even though he jumps into the ditch it is enough time for her to learn the important thing, he isn't a Silencer, or a Kamo Kid, definitely to old to be the second one. "He's clear." she announces, and they are very close to camp, they should at least investigate, make sure he isn't a hostile in their area "Over." she taps the top of the cab again.

The good doctor sits there and does what he does best…waits for orders. If the person was a threat obviously they'd act accordingly. If he wasn't, as usual Eli's next thoughts were on how many were in their party and if they were injured.

John finds some cover and does what he's slowly begun to figure out. He finds cover, and stops moving. While the bow would be better in this instance for range, the pistol is the quickest to get to. That being said, John really doesn't want to kill anyone. He's already gone against his Hippocratic oath enough since the apocalypse started. He waits to see their actions.

"Stop, Terry." Quin's fingers' drum on his rifle and he then lowers it. "We're armed, we don't want to hurt you." Piper gets a look that hopefully conveys to cover him. He'll hop out of the truck of terry stops it, on the side closer to where John is hiding.

Terry eases up on the gas, and gradually brings the vehicle to a stop. He keeps his handgun within reach, but just out of sight, nodding to Quinton. "Alright. We've stopped."

Piper nods at the look, not that she needed it, she would have done that anyway. She moves after Quinton though stays in the bed of the truck, rifle up in the proper 'I have a rifle and I know how to use it' position and aimed at John. Her finger is not on the trigger though. Were it not for that little thing right there, the petite young woman would look harmless.

"Yeah," John calls from his minimal cover. "Saying you have a rifle is a good reason for me to come out of cover. That makes me feel nice and safe." He sighs. "We're armed, and we don't want to hurt you. So where does that leave us?" John remains frozen, attempting to keep out of their lights.

Quinton has his rifle in hand, but the other raises in a type of peace motion. "Would you rather me lie?" Quin only saw the one guy so he make a calculated guess. "Will you feel better if I drop my gun?"

The young woman listens to the exchange, the stoic expression on her face never faltering as she continues to hold the rifle ready, even if there is a bit of sardonic humor in what John says to them. Piper doesn't care for the idea of Quinton dropping his weapon either, but that just means she can't miss if shooting happens.

Elijah stays in his spot in the cab of the truck, watching the exchange and not moving an inch. Intensity!

John is silent for quiet a long time. He's in a stand off right now. He can't trust them, and they can't trust him. Apocalypse thy name is trust. He rubs his eyes, trying to get the sleep and weariness out of them. "I don't feel like being here all night, how about you?" He asks, his voice betraying a small bit of weariness. "I'll come out if you answer me a question: What is the air speed flight velocity of an unladen swallow?"

Quinton blinks confused, "What?"

"That would depend… African, or European?" Terry responds, audibly. Being an old fart (though, not *Bob* old) does have its perks.

Piper certainly doesn't want to be out here all night. She has other things she would rather be doing than having a stand off with a stranger, especially if that stranger is a harmless (to them at least) one. His question though has her confused as well. What do swallows have to do with anything…and the fact that Terry is answering the question with another question about swallows…she's lost.

From his spot in the cab Elijah just puts a hand to his face. It was only thanks to Sam that he knew that reference. He she'd be proud at least!

"Second question," John says, surrendering to his own thirst. "Do you have any water?" John stands up from his cover, his hands moving away from his weapons. He finishes off the jerky in his teeth, and stands within full sight.

Quinton nods and then kneels down to set his shot gun on the ground. He ignores the bird talk, cause what the hell. "I do. It's in my backpack. Do you want me to get it?" If John says yes, he'll pull out a water bottle, uncaps it and takes a sip to show that it's safe before he offers it over.

Terry maintains his post in the hot seat, waiting for the 'all clear'. Until then, he'll stay where he is, an ear open for any sign of trouble, but otherwise minding his own business.

The woman in the back of the truck stares long and hard at John as he comes out of hiding. There is no squinting into the darkness for her to be able to see. She hasn't been told to stand down, so it takes a few moments and Quinton offering the bottle of water for her to lower her rifle enough to not seem threatening.

Elijah keeps watching. Everything seems to be good. Nobody needed a doctor…yet. So he stays put.

John steps forward. "Yes please," He replies to Quinton. "I could use a drink." He moves slowly, knowing these guys have guns and are ready to use them. "Last place I was at wouldn't trade too much with me for it." He doesn't take too much, just a swallow before handing the canteen back. "So…" He gives each of them looks. "You guys from Camp Hope?"

It's not a canteen, it's a literal bottle of water (although it's been refilled). On good faith Quinton shakes his head, "Keep it." He doesn't answer the question just yet, instead, "Are you looking for trade?"

Terry figures, if this was a trap, it probably would have happened by now, so he fishes his gun cleaning kit out of his pack, pops it open, and sets to work giving his sidearm a good scrub. All the better in case something /does/ go wrong, yeah?

Stepping over the deer carcass in the back of the truck, Piper sits down on the tail gate, her bare feet swinging as she watches and waits to see about the trading. She almost looks hopeful, she likes trading. The rifle is laid across her legs, handy but no longer a threat.

"I have jerky," John says, motioning to his pack. "Gunpowder, flints…but mostly what I have is my services. You could say I am looking for a job." He pulls some of the venison from a pouch and offers it. "I'm…well I was a Doctor. Chemist. And I have a couple of other skills. Mostly involving mixing stuff together and trying to make people feel better."

Well the man took Quinton's water bottle, it only stands to reason that the poet should take a piece of jerky, if only to show the same level of trust. "We can't promise a job." the poet tells John "He can offer a safe place to sleep for the night, a hot shower," yes he said hot and shower in the same sentence and back to back, "and a real meal in the morning." as opposed to the jerky the man has probably been eating "Anything more and you will have to talk to Bob."

Piper was good up until the word doctor was uttered. She has just gotten to the point where she can be in a room with their current one without getting all twitchy and now there is the potential to be another one. Well at least Elijah will have someone to talk shop with. She won't begrudge the man that.

Terry listens in as Quinton converses with John, glancing over to Piper (just to check on her). He's still getting a read on John.. good or bad, still not sure at this point in time. Perhaps once everyone's back at camp, and had a good meal. One can usually tell a good bit from conversing with someone over a hot meal.

John's eyes go wide as Quinton mentions a hot shower. "Wait…" He says, holding up a hand. "You have hot showers? So whose boots do I have to kiss for 5 minutes in one of those?" He chuckles with a lop-sided grin. "I'm used to being told we'll wait and see, so I understand you saying that you don't have space right now." The twitchiness of the woman with the rifle is not missed, as John gives Piper a glance. "But I can build stuff too. See this armor?" He points to the metal armor he's wearing. "Made it myself."

Quinton nods in confirmation, "Monica's." he answers simply gesturing back to the truck "Hop in…" he pauses though since he doesn't have a name "I'm Quinton." he offers as he turns to move back to the truck, completely trusting that Piper will warn him or just outright shoot John if the stranger decides to put a bullet in his back. The armor is eyed as he looks over his shoulder to see if the man is coming "Monica would like that too."

And she would. It's hard to believe but the rare beauty is a lot more dangerous than the four men that accompany her. Or maybe that shouldn't be, the words femme fatale came from somewhere. As the poet turns and heads back Piper gets to her feet watching John to make sure that shooty things don't happen. She's still good, just her usual twitchiness in the company of strangers.

John nods. "Any help is welcome with me," he says, walking up to the truck. "Name is John. Thanks." He keeps his movements rather slow, no need to get shot now. John finds a place and climbs into the truck, finally looking like he is beginning to relax.

"I'll get some food going, if anyone's hungry. I know I am," says the bottomless pit known as Terry. He waits for John to hop in, before bringing the truck around, and starting the drive back to camp.

As Quinton gets back into the truck a reassuring smile is offered to Piper and they both go back to their original posts in the truck. Even with the deer and turkeys in the back there is still room for John in the bed to sit comfortably. Once back at camp the pair go to find Bob and let him know of the newcomer, letting Terry see to the man's immediate needs.


1 Deer
1 Deer
1 Rabbit
1 Goose
1 Duck
1 Turkey

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