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- Posted: Sun, 13 Jan 2013 12:42:55 +0000
Strauss hardly slept the previous night, tossing, turning, and muttering unintelligibly on the diner’s floor before the screeching of tires and dozens of boots hitting the ground woke him. The raiders weren’t pulling any punches and whoever was in the compound they were attacking probably had no idea they were coming. That made Strauss sick to the stomach, but once they pulled out and started rolling, they’d have their chance to escape…one chance and one chance only, which meant they had to get it right or else they’d end up dead like those Stalkers were bound to be later that morning. Strauss quickly got dressed, pulled his bootlaces tight, and stuffed his Smith and Wesson Model 10’s in the holsters beneath his jacket before grabbing his pack and looking out the window, barely seeing first light. Now was the time…now was the time for Step 1, but the stage for Step 2 had to be set up beforehand.
Strauss didn’t arouse any suspicion gearing up and getting ready to go and the raider radio operator behind the diner’s counter figured they needed every crazy mother they could spare out there, including Strauss himself. Strauss, making a quick trip to the bathroom, filled a steel cup with homemade whiskey, a flask of which he took off Rex before they threw his corpse out, along with a couple tablets of “roofies,” which Rex used to drug female victims to sleep or into submission before repeatedly raping them. Strauss crushed them up and mixed them with the whiskey before going out the back, moving quickly past the horde of raiders in the parking lot, and climbing the water tower where Ronn, the raider sniper was, just as everyone, except for the Black Skull group began rolling out. He lied about the drink coming from Daisy who occasionally used Ronn as her personal ********, and Ronn, thinking him too dumb to lie to him, much less drug him, took it without much question. Now all they needed was for the drugs to take effect, during which Strauss slid down the tower’s ladder and made haste towards entrance to the motel’s basement where Gale was being held.
“Yeah, Strauss, what do you wa -- ? GUUUUHH!! Hnnngghh…mmmmmffff!!” the raider guarding the door to the basement struggled, startled and shocked as Strauss “fishtailed” the blade of his knife between his ribs, cutting up his left lung and the ventricles of his heart before his eyes rolled back into their sockets and his grip over his forearm went flaccid. Strauss then quickly fumbled through his clothing, finding the keys before unlocking the door and dragging his corpse down with him. Strauss then locked the door behind himself, grabbed the raider sentry’s sawed-off pump-action shotgun, along with his bandolier containing a dozen shells, and moved to where Gale was. He then pushed Gale away from the basement’s grill and looked hastily towards the tower, seeing Ronn trying to get ahold of himself and slumping over near the railing before taking the electronic screwdriver from last night out of his pack and handing it along with the shotgun and the shells to Gale himself. “We d-don’t have much time. G-g-get the grill off and I’ll go out first. T-then I’ll pull you up and we’ll make a run for the fence. We don’t have much time. H-hurry!” Strauss told Gale anxiously. They had less than 15 minutes before the sun went up, maybe less before someone saw Ronn unconscious or noticed that the raider sentry he killed wasn’t at his post. This was life by the minute…precious few minutes and it felt like his brain being eaten by ants while they were at it.
(Sorry this took so long. Had a crazy week and things are about to get hectic again. Hopefully, my schedule clears up within the next few days)