[i]Put-put-put-put[/i]

The familiar sound Boss had come to grow accustomed to over the last four months filled the air as the small modified old world barge puttered its way down the Mississippi river. The old ship he rode upon had once been used to clean the very river they rode in; the large rectangular metal frame about as basic as they come. Aside from the dirty metal cabin that housed the steering controls there was no where to take shelter from the sun that could grow rather harsh some days; especially with how slow the actual barge traveled. Because of this his crew, which had originally consisted of fourty experienced caravan hands, had strung up metal poles that they then draped in thick tarps-making a rather effective if somewhat shabby looking form of shelter. The men not only slept beneath their handmade creation but kept the vast amount of goods they hoped to sell down South here.

To say the journey so far had been bad would be an understatement-only three men remaining of the original fourty. Along the way they had encountered every sort of trouble one could imagine; from raiders and monsters that changed from state to state to the very weather itself. Then halfway through the journey over half of the remaining men mutinied; the growing fear of dying for the unknown along with a literal ship full of supplies eventually outweighing the fear of the man who was running the expedition: Boss. This mistake not only cost all the mutineers their lives but solidified the loyalty of his remaining men.

As they wound through Alabama into Mississippi they found themselves at 17 men strong-however this  now tight knit group of men and women was doing a far better job of fighting off any threats they encountered along the way. With renewed confidence the group journeyed onwards; having stopped in multiple large and small communities along the way their treasure trove of tradeable goods had grown to encompass rather rare items from all five states they had passed through along the way. The plan, as Boss had told his men time and time again in between puffs of his ever present cigarette, was to reach the coast and finish up any trading along the way; from there they would turn back around and head home with a fortune in goods. Atleast that was the idea.

When they reached Louisiana it seemed like every day was a raider atack-and not only were these attackers more organized then anything they had yet to encounter but worse was the beefed up boats they rode in; crafts that had been modified for the soul purpose of raiding along the river. Needless to say their large rectangular craft was practically a slow floating target.

By sheer luck the trading vessel continued on despite its ever dwindling crew; the handful of men on board now driven by the maddening drive to finish a task that had already taken so much from them.

--- 

“Boss! Boss! You gotta come see this!” The raspy leather like voice of his ghoulish companion, a man Boss simply called Ted, broke over the constant sputtering of the boats engine. 

Boss, who had been taking his turn sleeping, was quickly torn awake-without thinking his hands finding their way to the beat up old pump action 20 gauge he seemed to carry everywhere. Rolling to his feat in what was a rather fluid motion he came up at the ready; his shotgun held level and steady as he scanned the area for would be atackers.

The display made Ted croak out a laugh; the leather jacket wearing ghoul quickly throwing both hands in the air in a display that comically read [i]'dont shoot.'[/i] “Calm down Boss, just thought you'd want to be awake for this. Remember those traders we met a week back? The ones that kept goin on about that city down South-you know, the one that sounded to damn good to be true?”

“What about it?” Boss barked back while simultaneously lighting his first cigarette of the day. Between puffs he picked up the large leather duster he had been using as a pillow the previous night-after a few harsh shakes to get rid of any excess dirt or hiding bugs he quickly put on the draping leather overcoat. 

“Oh nothin, just thought you'd wana be awake as we pulled into port. You know, less me and Cat might run off with all the goods. Hell probably shoulda just killed you while you were sleeping come to think of it-actually...” 

Boss wasn't sure what Ted said after that; his companions dark humor falling on deaf ears as his gaze came to rest past all the various crates and boxes of supplies that were strewn on the main deck in front of him. He had become transfixed on the sight just down the river; the surreal view of various sea worthy boats and vessels all bobbing to and fro in what was the largest harbor anyone aboard the tiny little barge had ever seen; a sight made even stranger by the diverse and cultured people that went about their day among the sprawling white marble banered covered buildings. Truly, Boss had never seen anything like it.

As Cat, the woman steering their ship, made her way into the peninsula that contained the docks their view of the shore became clearer and clearer. The place was crowded with all sorts people loading and unloading various goods just as rare and foreign as anything on Boss's boat. Unlike his floating monstrosity many of the ships here looked rather decked out in technology or at the very least well taken care of, a fact that made Boss feel more and more embarrassed the closer they got to shore. Honestly the more they neared this crown jewel of trade (which is what Boss had takein to calling this strange port town) the group began to wonder just what sort of place they had discovered. Boss in particular breathed in a sigh of relief; somewhere in the back of his mind he was convinced he had just found his pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

With a better view Boss made note of the numerous ships of different varieties; some old, repurposed freighters, others wooden warships from past eras. Also rather eye catching were the men and women adorned in matching scarlet uniforms; the striking color so visible that before they even set anchor Boss was convinced that this group of individuals ran the port-if not the Town itself.