[h1][center][color=ed145b]T[/color][color=39b54a]w[/color][color=0076a3]o[/color] [b]Ghosts[/b][/center][/h1] [hr][hr] “[color=007236]SON OF A MOTHERFUCKING FUCKING ASSHOLE FUCKER![/color]” Was one of the many things that came out of Two’s mouth after the arrow pierced through his leg. “[color=007236]What the FUCK?![/color]” he screamed one last time before grabbing his empty pistol and tried to fire it at his new stranger a couple times. Only getting a nice sounding clicking noise as he tried to fire. “[color=007236]...fuck.[/color]” He said as he realized he had no bullets left on him. He probably could have locked himself inside of the bunker and hid while his captive was threatening him. She said something, but Two was too busy cursing out the situation to understand. Seemed like a robbery though. But running wasn’t a realistic option. Not while she had her bow and his gun was out of bullets. But she didn’t know about the shotgun did she? No, that ran out earlier? If asked he could claim he dropped it. That could work! If all else fails there is still a few more guns inside the bunker. Like the .22 rifle! ….that broke years ago. Or the other shotgun! Which Two is pretty sure is jammed or something but he has no idea how to fix it so that one is out… There is a beretta! That ran out of bullets years ago…. All two could think was he was fucked if he didn’t come up with options soon. “[color=007236]this is your fault eight[/color]” he said quietly under his breath. With his leg hurt and him being out of bullets he had a couple somewhat reasonable options. He could counter threaten her with the shotgun and see how that went? Or he could claim the bunker isn’t his and he could work from that? He had some options here. He decided he was fucked no matter what so why not try for something reasonable? He grabbed the pump action shotgun from the ground and pumped it once to show he was ready to fire and then took aim at his new [i]guest[i]. “[color=007236]Don’t fucking move or else I’ll blast you back up those steps.[/color]” He tried to sound confident, he honestly seemed like he was ready to pass out, but he wasn’t ready to give up. Though he thought about the arrow in his leg for a bit. He made sure his aim was locked on their head as he spoke again. “[color=007236]Here’s how this is going to work. You’re going to drop your weapons, then you’re going to open this door for me so we can go inside and have a nice chance to talk about how you shouldn’t rob someone at your own home.[/color]” Claiming it her’s! It’s an excellent idea! Thank you middle school drama class! [hr][hr] Ghost ignored the man she’d shot in the leg as he cursed. She seemed completely unphased by it as she looped her bow over her shoulder, having every intent of grabbing the arrow from his leg on the way down. She hadn’t shot him in anything too important. She could have sliced right through his artery and let him bleed out, a very appealing thought as he pumped his shotgun and aimed it at her. An annoyed grunt left the darker toned woman as she frowned at the action. “Put that thing away before I shoot you in the stomach and let you bleed out,” she threatened, having every notion that she was faster than he was. Her fingers twitched in anticipation of the action as she thought over her options. She could challenge him, most likely snag her gun and fire it before he got a shot off is she stepped out of the line of fire and aimed just right. There were too many variables to that though. Too many things could go ary and although death didn’t terrify her, it’s not like she was running head first towards it either. “Fine,” Ghost grunted with a roll of her eyes. If she played along with his little game here, she’d be able to get close and disarm him that way. A smirk flickered over her lips, an action hidden by the black mask that covered the lower half of her face. One by one weapons dropped from her. Her bow was first, than her backpack containing the arrows. Two guns from holsters on her hip, several knives from her waistband, bra, and boots. They clanked to the ground with the sharp sound only metal on cement could make. [hr][hr] Two was a bit surprised by this, mostly because he didn’t expect any of it to work. But now that it worked he had no idea what to do. As she disarmed he knew she would try and go for his gun, jokes on her the only remaining bullets for it are inside. Though seeing her two pistols drop to the ground was rather unsettling. He was partially relying on the fact he had a gun and she didn’t. Even with a bow a shotgun is harder to fix. Realizing this he tried awkwardly to hold the shotgun with one hand as he spoke working with the arrow in his leg. “[color=007236]Now, don’t move for a moment. I need to fix this before I get blood all over my good pants.[/color]” Good being a relative term. The holes in them were almost as big as his knees, but they had pockets and fit well, so they were his good pants. With his spare hand he grabbed the end of the arrow tip sticking out of his leg and snapped the head off, letting him be able to slide the rest of the shaft out the other direction. Most of this time he wasn’t actually aiming the gun, more of holding it as he tried not to pass out pulling the arrow out. “[color=007236]I hope you understand you’re fucking crazy?! Do you realize that no one makes the things I need to make sure an infection doesn’t kill me?[/color]” He spoke with full on fear. Despite no one making these supplies in years according to Two’s information he had a couple odds and ends for meds inside the Bunker. Most of which were expired or he used in attempts to escape reality a few times before they expired. He was starting to regret that now. Trying to use the remaining bits of his pants to slow the slight bleeding he looked up at his new…. He wasn’t sure what to call them yet but he would stick with jerk face. “[color=007236]Just…. Help me get inside this damn place. Bunkers usually have a decent amount of supplies in them and I am on next to nothing now.[/color]” He spoke trying to draw attention away from the fact it was his bunker. [hr][hr] Ghost watched the male snap her nice arrow head with a hard jerk so he could slip the wooden piece from his leg. A wave of irritation washed over her at the sight, but her face remained neutral. Considering most anywhere with a store was in a once populated area, thusly in the midst of left over lurkers, it’s not like she could run to the store and pick up whatever she needed. In fact, half of the arrows she had now were handmade and he went and broke one! Taking a deep breath, the still calm female continued down the stairs. She lifted the stranger up with some difficulty. Considering at least half of his weight was on her, that’s what happens when you shoot someone in the leg, it was quite the weight to bare. She helped him limp towards the bunker, ignoring his worried commentary. His ability to heal himself was none of her concern, and quite frankly she didn’t give flying fuck what happened to him. All she wanted was the food in the bunker. The only reason she was even leading him towards it because why else would he be at the bottom of the stairway unless he was heading in. If he was going out the other door wouldn’t have been open, unless he was an bumbling idiot, which may actually be the case. Ghost stopped before the door, looking expectantly at the male whose weight she was currently supporting. It’s not like she knew how to open it, although, if she really gave it a look and found something to work with, she may, and this was a big if here, be able to crack it open. That was unlikely though, and if this guy couldn’t open it, then she was kicking his scrawny ass and maybe shooting him in the other leg for good measure. [hr][hr] Bullshitting didn’t work as well as Two had hoped, now he was dependent on this chick who would be more then willing to kill him to save herself. Though he was in no condition to fight now, and he was out of bullets. If she really wanted to she could kill him and wonder off, but for now Two was betting she was concerned that Two had a plan B, and he did. He was going to rely on his best friend to get him out of this. Two looking around realized they were going inside, the bunker had no real outside locking mechanism other than an out of sight release for the main lever. THough if someone really wanted to they could attach a chain to the door and to a truck and see which would win. Two having built the thing didn’t like that idea. Knowing his situation was not good he did probably the stupidest thing he could. “[color=007236]Fuck my life…[/color]” Two used his weight to push down his attacker just long enough to reach for the release switch for the lever. Once free he shouted for his friend to help him out. “[color=007236]EIGHT GRAB THE OTHER GUN AND HELP ME![/color]” He screamed as he tried to keep his hot attacker at bay while also trying to prevent things from being awkward. Two has less then great priorities. “[color=007236]IF YOU CAN’T FIND THE BULLETS LOCK THE BUNKER DOWN SO SHE CAN’T TAKE OUR SUPPLIES![/color]” He screamed While all this was going on he looked around looking for his friend Eight, but Eight was still on the ground next to him not moving. Was he hurt? Was he unconscious? Was he dead?! Was that why his friend was unable to open the door?! Though while thinking and struggling he started to fall short of breath, borderline blacking out, and now scared beyond any real fear he has had recently. Before he has always had a safe place to return to, now, his home was being stolen from him. [hr][hr] Ghost, meanwhile, just stood there, watching this man shout at….at a toy dog? His voice bounded around the small walkway from the first door towards the second, strained, panicked. Quite frankly it was making her head pound by the absurdity of all of this. Fingers pressed into her temples, massaging lightly as measured steps moved towards the dropped plushie. With a heavy sigh she picked up the animal, brow lifting with an annoyed glint in her eyes. This man was batshit insane. Of course she’d stumble across the worst kind of loner, the ones who had lost their grip on reality, started talking to inanimate objects. It seemed like this guy considered this toy real. What a pain in the ass. Ghost was annoyed she even had to do this, slipping one, last, hidden blade from her bra. It was a small switchblade, flicking out with a dull click before being held to the stuffed animal's neck. “You’re going to open the door, keep it open, and let me in. Or your stupid little toy gets it,” she spoke in a bored, monotone manner. She was threatening a fucking toy right now. This was pretty much as ridiculous as things could get right now. [hr][hr] That bitch... She was holding yet another blade. This time to his best friend! She seemed more annoyed then anything else though, but now Two had no more weapons he could use. "[color=007236]How.... you... okay just.... don't hurt him.... he's all I have left.[/color]" He moved his way to the Bunker release switch before entering the combination to the lock to open the Bunker. Inside was a small locked cabinet, a table for four people, a couple bunk beds, some shelves holding a few weeks worth of dried meats and fruits. Most of the food supply that remained consisted of foraged food from the last few weeks and the small bit of chocolate that Two has been saving for a special occasion. The only other thing in the room the size of a storage container would be a door that led into the Bunker's heart, the air filters (Which hasn't had a decent filter in it for years), an emergency generator (Now useless due to the lack of fuel and the poor quality solar panels outside), and the water systems (That stopped working years ago). Two was... less then pleased about the situation at hand. "[color=007236]Are you happy? Are you proud to have taken our last two weeks of food? Do you want the last few sips of water too? How about the blanket that smells like a dead animal?![/color]" Two was going to make his frustration clear. "[color=007236]I suppose you want the explosives too? The ones that have enough firepower to destroy this bunker and everything with in a fifty yard land area around here?![/color]" He was trying to bluff, technically a decent amount of the Bunker's equipment could catch fire and cause damage, but nothing like he was describing. He just wanted to scare the person trying to hold his Best Friend Hostage. (((I will be posting for Hank soon, all of his stuff is still in pieces.))) [hr][hr] [center][h1][color=007236]Hank Miller[/color][/h1][/center] Hank worked his way back to his shack with his rations. Fewer then last time, not by a lot but enough so that anyone not paying attention wouldn't notice. This isn't the first time this has happened though, it seems to happen once every few weeks. The rations would get cut more and more to avoid giving out less and less food. Once back inside Hank planned out his week, he needed a couple of days where he did as little as possible so he could avoid eating. That way he could keep adding a few bites to his stash. It could make him sick, especially with the amount of physical activity he does most days, but it would be needed. For now, he had a job to do. Hank grabbed his gun, and loaded it with six of his seven bullets. He then put the spare bullet inside of his jacket pocket in case things got that bad. Though if they got that bad one bullet may not do him a lot. Hank then left taking with him the gun and a small metal box holding contents of trade. It took him about two hours to get to his meeting point. An old sewage drain that despite all it use to be used for wasn't too bad now compared tot he surface. The holes in the tunnel every now and again were enough to make sure oxygen was still somewhat fresh down below. Methane was still fairly strong though, if hank were to fire a shot off the whole tunnel may explode. Or it may just cause his gun to explode, and leave the rest of things alone. It was impossible to tell unless you really understood how these things worked, and Hank wasn't too sure but he didn't like the idea of getting blown into smithereens. Two fairly big men walked up to Hank from the opposite end of the small tunnel dragging a box about a foot and a half, by a foot and a half, by another foot and a half. "[color=f26522]You have the stuff mate?[/color]" The smaller of the two spoke. Despite being smaller it looked like he worked out a decent amount still. It also looked like he spent a lot more time outside then Hank did, and in the front lines against the infected. He was covered in scars, so was his friend. Who looked like he was brought just to be intimidating. "[color=007236]Seven Cigarettes, two cigars, my last few sips of pre-war alcohol, and the information you requested about the Govvi convoys that came in.[/color]" The larger one of the two stayed expressionless, the smaller but well built one still seemed excited. "That's what I am talking about! You're asking for some pretty interesting things yourself. Enough explosives to send half the state to-" Hank cut him off. "[color=007236]Don't exaggerate. It makes you look unprofessional.[/color]" The smaller man kinda stood there annoyed. "[color=f26522]Fine just... Give me the damn box and we can get on our way.[/color]" They made the trade, all of them staying quiet until the two traders opened the box. "[color=f26522]What... what the fuck is this? The smokes look like they are filled with grass and the booze looks like cheap fucking tea?![/color]" The two turned to face Hank who now had his revolver drawn. "[color=007236]That information I gave you will have to do. I am on a budget and a time table.[/color]" The smaller one kinda laughed, revealing his own sidearm as his larger friend slowly grabbed a claw hammer from his belt. "[color=f26522]You're in a pickle now man, we got our own gun, and not like that matters here. You shoot, we're all dead and you never finish your work.[/color]" They were smarter then Hank gave them credit for. If he tried to fake it more they'd call him out. If he didn't give back the explosives they would kill him. They would probably kill him anyways for him trying to pull a fast one over them. Hank slowly holstered the revolver and sighed. "[color=007236]I was really hoping it wouldn't come to this.[/color]" The larger man charged hank with his hammer raised, only to get it stuck on the rusty frame of the tunnel, giving Hank the chance to drop low and send a fist into the guy's kidney's stunning him long enough for another punch to the side of the jaw. When the larger man was crippled Hank kicked out his knee to the side while bringing down his elbow on top of his head. Once the larger man was on the ground Hank kicked his head, leaving him out cold. Hank turned to face the smaller man, who now had his gun drawn locked onto Hank. "[color=007236]I ain't gonna kill you. Not unless you do something stupid. Like try to fire a gun inside a confined tunnel filled with methane. I recommend you and your friend leave before your actions draw the infected.[/color]" They both stood still for a moment. Hank eyeing the man, the man eyeing hank through the sights of the gun. Then he put away the pistol, soon dragging away his bodyguard. Hank left soon after, once convinced he wouldn't be followed. When at a safe distance he stopped to catch his breath, he felt like his entire body was ready to quit on him all at once. His heart was racing as it felt like it was skipping beats, and his blood was boiling. Once he was able to calm down though he stood up and checked inside the box, showing an even smaller plastic box, that was holding some on mining explosives. The stuff wasn't super strong, but strong enough to bust down a gate if need be. They were strong enough to get some payback on those who let his family die out, to those who forced him to beg and plead for scraps, to those who try to keep power over what little he has left. He just had ot make sure he didn't blow himself up before that point.