[h1][center][color=007236][b]Henry "Hunter" Monroe[/b][/color][/center][/h1]
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[h1][center][b][color=ed1c24]A few months before Taxes ended[/color][/b][/center][/h1]
[center][color=ed1c24]Central works Firearms[/color][/center]

[center][img]http://truthaboutguns-zippykid.netdna-ssl.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/Gun-store-courtesy-thefederalistpapers.org_.jpg[/img][/center]

In a small town in the middle of nowhere, there is not a lot to do beyond farming, watching DVDs, and target practice. Anyone or anything that supported these hobbies normally had steady business. Gun stores were a common place to find people who were still allowed to purchase firearms. "[color=007236]I'm looking for something that is strong enough to take down a bear from a safe distance?[/color]" Hunter said to the old man behind the counter who looked more bored then anything. "[color=ed1c24]So... a rifle?[/color]" The gun smith said sarcastically. "[color=007236]If it's cheap and won't explode then sure.[/color]" Hunter replied with the biggest smile on his face. He figured getting any real professional help would be difficult from a guy like this, he figured that his question wasn't too vague? Apparently the old man didn't understand simple questions.

Hunter sighed and rubbed his head a bit trying to do some proper thinking. "[color=007236]Okay, look. My dad and Uncle are going on a hunting trip up north in a few months and I don't have anything with enough kick to do shit. I have a budget of about two hundred to cover a gun, some ammo, and any accessories to it. Things like a cleaning kit, a scope, et cetera.[/color]" The old man had less of a bored face now and a look of concern. "[color=ed1c24]Are you one'a them kids who got dropped and told he was able to do anything he wanted? Because you can't. That amount ain't gonna get you shit but a shit gun and maybe a couple rounds.[/color]" Hunter stood at the counter a moment thought about his situation. "[color=007236]So what if we said screw it to everything but the gun and some bullets? Could we do something in that budget? I'll take used?! I'll take in need of love condition too![/color]" He was desperate at this point. And Hunter was not good at hiding it. If he knew anything about making deals it was to not show how desperate he was. "[color=007236]Come on man, this is the first trip I may actually be able to afford before my Uncle has to leave the country again for another five years![/color]" The old man simply was dumbfounded by this point. "[color=ed1c24]...first off... In need of love condition? What in all hells kinda things did they teach you in school? And second, you can't afford the trip if your total budget is two hundred. But if you're really that desperate I may have something.[/color]" And the old gunsmith left only long enough to bring back an old and worn bolt action rifle.

The rifle was a single shot 30-06. Iffy range, mostly accurate, and held a single shot inside the chamber. But the ammo was decently common, and it was accurate enough to work for Hunter. So out of impulse and fear of not going on this trip he bought it with his remaining funds. After a few target practice moments with it, he decided that ammunition for a high powered rifle in general was expensive, and that he needed a better budget. But that didn't stop him from practicing and preparing for his trip north.

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[center][color=007236][b]Home[/b][/color][/center]

Home wasn't much for Hunter, but it was a place to hang up his coat, take off his shoes, enjoy his iffy wifi, and park his El Camino with out paying a parking meter. The double wide trailer was in need of a good cleaning and some good love overall. There were soda cans, pizza boxes, and cups laying about everywhere. Along with a makeshift TV stand for the TV which housed several gaming systems and his computer tower.

His bedroom consisted of a queen bed, a short dresser, and a pile of electronics and airsoft gun parts int he corner, with maybe one working airsoft gun between it all. Overall, it was his place, and he enjoyed it. he could do whatever he wanted as long as nothing was burning too much and he wasn't harassing the neighbors. It was a nice and simple life for him.

He spent the night looking for the best place to store his "new" Rifle and show it off a bit to any visiting family. He eventually decided above the bed was a great place until he woke up that night to a falling rifle hitting him in the face. The next morning he simply put it in its case and put it in a closet.

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[b][color=9e0b0f][center][h1]One Week after People stopped caring about taxes and bills[/h1][/center][/color][/b]

[b][color=ed1c24][center]Some poor dude's home[/center][/color][/b]

Hunter eased his way into the second story apartment aiming his rifle around the room. Normally he would have decided to stay inside his El Camino and keep safe. But his supplies for his hunting trip would only last him so long. Food ran out the day before last, his water supply is only consistent with what he can collect in rain now, and his car in it's current state can't move. The keys for the starter were confiscated when he was pulled over fora busted headlight and then later to be found out his transmission was faulty and needed to be replaced. Hunter himself could still drive it but with out the keys to start it all he could do was lock the door with the second set of keys. 

The way he saw the key situation was more of benefit. No matter what his keys to start the car would be confiscated until the vehicle was fixed. But due to the fact the starter was replaced with a used one from another vehicle the keys to start it and lock it were not the same. That only delayed the fact he needed to leave for supplies sooner or later. 

Inside the apartment there was a lot of blood, more then he really cared to see. More then his mind could care to see. He spent the next couple minutes puking up what little fluids he still had left in his systems until he got used to the smell of blood and death. Once that was over he found the source of the mess, several human bodies...

A couple of them looked like they had been shot to bits before dying, the last one looked like they took their own life with the shotgun in their hands once the events here ended. Hunter felt bad for them all, but his rifle had only so many bullets, and he wasn't that great of a shot with it. He slowly poked the body holding the shotgun with his rifle and when it didn't move he quickly grabbed the gun.

He did the basic checks first, check to see if it was loaded, see if the chamber was clear, was it relatively clean? All in all, it was good. In fact, the shotgun was in better condition then his rifle despite what it had been through. He spent the next few minutes looking around for ammo for it, finding a mostly full box of shells to help fill the shotgun up. And finding a small hatchet wedged in the wall of the apartment. Part of Hunter wanted to know what had happened here, another part of him knew better then to try and figure it out. Once he had gathered some supplies like ammo, food, water, and empty shell casings, he ate some food and had something to drank he left. The smell of rotting bodies could only be handled so long.

But now what? His car was still missing keys to start it and he had no idea where to find them. They could be anywhere in the shop, or in the pocket of a dead man miles away? He wouldn't know... So for now... he needed a plan. A safe place that didn't involve a torn up seat and listening to footsteps around him every night. It was pouring out, not the ideal conditions to travel, but the apartments here were unsafe and his car could only do so much. If he was in a situation where he had to shoot inside that thing he would have nowhere to go. But somewhere was better then here it seemed.

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[center][b][color=9e0b0f]Outside in the rain[/color][/b][/center]

He went outside and put the guns on his back along with his bag as he pulled out his radio and his earbuds, only putting one in he started trying to listen to the radio. Listening to the same messages on repeat over and over again. He made sure to crank it slowly as he walked as to not make too much noise, but he need to keep alert in case something were to spot him. While browsing through the stations one he found was still playing music, occasionally the listener if paying attentions could hear the drunk mumbles of whoever was still running the station even while the music was playing. 

Hunter was Semi-familiar with the area, but he didn't know where much of the local areas were, like some of the shelters he's been hearing about, or the police stations, or the military checkpoints. Damn radios explaining everything in kilometers. His sister was much better at this then he was. Most of what he can do consists of partial skills of next to useless things. Being able to build a half a batter doesn't mean much without the other half. Or making ammunition without knowing the right proportions for powder and primer. Or what kind of powder to use... "[color=007236]damn...[/color]" he said once he realized all of his useless survival skills were... well kinda useless.

Walking in the rain sucked, the radio wasn't able to keep charge at the slow crank so he was eventually forced to walk in the quiet, and the dark. Though he felt safer with a decent shotgun in his hands then his rifle. Though if need be the rifle was a lot more accurate and had some decent range to it. And it was one of the things that let him think about his past without too much emotions. Despite the fact he was walking down a street full of houses with a high powered rifle at hand and a pump action shotgun on his back.

Then he heard it, two shots, loud ones too. Coming from not too far ahead, another shotgun would be his best guess. Now he was wondering what was going on, though he also questioned if it was worth the risk. What if who ever was shooting was shooting another person? Could he hold his own in a gunfight? He could shoot and handle a firearm, but he wasn't the best by any means.

He didn't get much choice, while contemplating his thoughts he saw the two human figures leave a house not far down the road, and making their way his direction. "[color=007236]....fuck my life.[/color]" he said quietly as he decided what to do now. He decided if he was to get into a gunfight he would rather have his new shotgun ready for use instead of his rifle, so he put that in his hands. And he decided to walk up to the two, hands raised in the air while holding the shotgun by the pump in one hand.

Once in reasonable talking distance so he didn't have to be loud he spoke. "[color=007236]I come in piece, don't shoot me please.[/color]" He tried to say quietly with a calm comedic tone. Truth be told he was scared shitless and he didn't want to die, but he was too scared to go it alone now. "[color=007236]I'm...[/color]" He thought about his answer, he could answer anything he wanted too and no one would know the better? This could be a new start! "[color=007236]Henry. Wait... dammit... I meant to say Hunter...[/color]" And just like that, the new chance was gone.