[color=00aeef]FRIEDA RICHTER[/color] - diner bar -- evening

"Rather angry young woman isn't she?" Arthur remarked, before he too tuned into the radio announcement. Apparently, the Minutemen had assaulted a Gunner position somewhere in the city, and emerged victorious. The radio DJ had stated that a group of them had escaped the attack and were likely to be heading north.

"Well that's not good..." He said, stating the obvious, "Gunners are well armed and well trained. Raiders are one thing...Gunners are quite another. Perhaps we should double the watch for tonight? Or...maybe even call for The Minutemen?"  Arthur turned to look across the diner at the patient from before, Rick.

Frieda raised an eyebrow.  "[i]What[/i] watch?  If you think cranky over there," she wagged her beer bottle towards Barney, "is gonna pull a double overnight, you're dreaming.  And I'm not sure how tough our friend over there is, after getting his ass kicked by his lunch."  She glanced at the doctor's face and realized she was probably a bit harsh.  "Sorry.  I'm...not used to being surrounded by folks who weren't conditioned from childhood to have a tactical approach to things.  You aren't wrong; sadly, we don't exactly have the resources for that, at the moment."

[i]Hell, I'd be able to pull it off easily, if I had some of those boosters they used to pass around like candy back home.[/i]

"If they're retreating, it seems most likely they'd raid us for supplies and a place to lick their wounds.  Though from what I know of the Gunners, they probably won't be nice about it.  Many are armed and armoured and most seem coordinated enough to have paid attention to minimal training," she agreed.

Frieda downed the rest of her beer then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a crass gesture, but she didn't exactly care at that point.  "I need a coffee to go," she said at the grumpy waitress, then stood.  "I'll walk you back to the clinic, if you like.  It's on the way to Brandy's house.  I'm going to pick up some ammo and a sweater, then take the first watch.  Hey!" she barked at Barney.

"What?" was the gruff reply.

"Someone needs to take over my watch at around midnight.  I'll be at the main road until then."

"...oh.  Uh, right.  Sure," Barney agreed.

The waitress plunked the coffee onto the counter, nearly sloshing it right out the top of the rims.  "On the house, okay?"

Frieda blinked.  What was with the sudden change of heart?  "Well, all right."  She took the mug by the handle and made her way to the door.  She managed to juggle a smoke and her lighter out of her pocket while she walked down the street, carrying her coffee.  As they drew up to the clinic, the trail of blood indicated that Steve had, indeed, dragged the body into the clinic.  "For fuck's sake..." she muttered.  "Hold this."  Frieda pushed her coffee cup into Arthur's hands.  "...uh, sorry.  And this," she sheepishly gave him her still-burning cigarette.

With a grunt and a sigh, she picked up the pungent corpse by the shoulders of its shirt and pulled it along the floor and outside the clinic, dragging it back down the stairs and leaving it in the street.  It was heavier than she had expected, but she managed.  She broke a slight sweat with the effort.  "I'll move it on my way back out to the main entrance, but at least it's outside, for now."  Frieda held her hands out for her coffee and her smoke.  "I'll take those back, now."