Snippet #2041577

Bacon - Near Mayday Bandit Territory

Bacon was almost back to the hideout. He'd kept to the side streets as he knew there were still plenty of rotters running loose through the streets. He'd just recently left a large mob behind after he'd stopped for a moment to eat. He had stopped to use a group of zombies as target practice but ended up getting surrounded. Taking refuge in a boarded up home, he'd eaten and recuperated some before narrowly escaping them breaking in. He paused for a moment at a corner. He heard the unmistakable sound of an engine muffled though it was by distance.

Must be someone new to town he'd seen most of the locals before that weren't already dead and none of them traveled around so loudly. He didn't have time to worry about that though. Things were still bleak back at the base what with the recent shortage in food supplies. Shifting the weight of the pack he started again towards home. He only had a few more minutes travel before he'd be back in Mayday territory once he reached the gas station near here it wouldn't be long before making it home.

Bacon hadn't been in town long himself, only a few years, but he had definitely made a name for himself as a scavenger and as a fierce fight when backed into a corner. He'd managed to land a nice spot with the Mayday Bandits, they were a rowdy bunch but overall good hearted and in the end sometimes that's what matters.



Maystin - Basement of a Diamond Dog Safehouse

The air was thick with dust. This place wasn't used very often and the recent activity in the room had disturbed the thick film of it that had been everywhere. In the center of the room a bruised man was tied down in a metal chair. It was secured into the ground by bolts and the man by chains. He wasn't going anywhere.

"You'll.. never... win." The brown haired victim sputtered between breathes of blood.

"That's where you are wrong. I'm the best at these things and you will be broken." Gerald responded as he pulled at the end of his glove tightening it on his hand. It had loosened during his last round of punishments.

The man was a spy for the Todd Foxes. They'd planted him a few months back trying to sabotage the Diamond Dog's food supplies. As of late things hadn't been going so well for them and food was a shortage in general. The only gang really living it up was the Todd Foxes as they hoarded everything. It had become Maystin's task to not only find out which gang the man was from originally but now squeeze out any information related to the Todd Foxes supply caches around town. They knew most of it was kept in their HQ but they were hoarders and hoarders kept shit everywhere.

"Speak! Or I'll really get angry and you don't really want me to start getting creative." Gerald roared as he hit the man again and again. Silence followed only broken by the harsh breathing and blood filled coughing fits. He'd already done a number on the man to break him in the first place. The loyalty some people had always seemed to find a way to shock him. The concept still alien to him.

His eye twitched as the frustration began to set in. He moved away from the center of the room to a wooden crate nearby. Rummaging within it he began to hum a little diddy. It wasn't long before he procured some rather disturbing looking instruments with a wicked grin. It wasn't long before the room filled with the cries of pain.