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In

[b][u][h1]A Man Out of Time #4: Back Against The Proverbial Wall #1[/h1][/u][/b]
Location: Pacific Point, California[/center]

It felt like an eternity since his encounter with The Psionic Nexus. The Wanderer’s energy was drained from the night of encounters of the small pockets of men from the Hounds of Humanity. Luckily, he hadn’t sustained many more injuries from the initial two encounters and the bleeding from his shoulder had stemmed off into the clot-covered clothes while leg injuries were bandaged by his barrier ability. It is surprising the things you’d have to do to survive the Wasteland, especially when there are other mutants outside of the Behemoth to worry about. While the wound would need to be looked at by someone who would have an idea on what to do with bullet wounds, the barrier would hold everything together so the mutant could achieve whatever goal is in his mind. The goal in mind now? Finding this ‘Voyager’ that the psionic wolf spoke to him of. And what better place to start his search was the location of the psionic event that occurred hours before.

With each minute passing since his encounter with the Psionic Nexus and the large group of the Hounds, The Wanderer’s mind thought about the next attack that the group would have planned for him. He thought that the group would know the fate of that group by now and pin the blame of the scene on the mutant himself. And if the group’s actions had expanded the number of men needed to take him down went up from that small group that attacked the woman to 25, then what would the group size be to avenge their fallen comrades? While facing the squishy nature of humans was simple enough for the mutant to stomach, facing such a large number of them is a prospect that even he didn’t want to face. He’d rather face 25 Behemoths at the same time than face a large number of humans with technology that he never knew about. But still, he would march on, persevere through any challenge that would come his way. Even if it means living a lonely life in a time so unfamiliar to him.

He emerged from the streets he had been walking through and entered a relatively quiet park. In his psionic eye, he still sees the faint aftermath of the psionic event. The has a feeling that in the next few hours, he would be at the site and would begin his search there. He first checks to see if the coast was clear. [I]If I were the Hounds, this park seems to be a good place to hold an ambush,[/I] he thought to himself, drawing his rusting revolver. While he was still holding onto the wounds with his barrier, he can’t focus on using his other psionic abilities; especially when there isn’t a need for him to use the other psionics at the moment. When he sees that the coast is clear, he moved from the street he had been travelling down into the park. For the first few minutes upon entering, everything seemed ordinary, besides the usual lack of human activity.

About halfway through the park, The Wanderer heard crashing sounds from all around him. The familiar sounds of various vans and people carriers roared closer until they emerged from the treeline, headlights blaring out straight at the mutant as they sped towards him. With six rounds in the chamber and more than that in the number of cars, The Wanderer simply began running. At times when the cars were upon him, he phased out of their path and carried on running. Bullets flew through the air as sub machine guns rained down bullets upon him, though they either missed or were deflected off of short bursts of barrier that he conjured. The leg wounds started to bleed again as there were no longer anything to hold the pressure. After a few intense minutes, he emerged from the other side of the park, with all the cars emerging at various intervals along that edge.

With the open streets around, The Wanderer thought that he could escape in the numerous alleyways that the warehouse buildings had and, eventually, the rooftop. However, that plan was ineffective as he faced a whole barricade of Hounds, blocking off the street that he’d planned to escape through. Not sure on the exact numbers, but he could estimate that there were at least 40 of the black-clad terrorists that faced him, with two in each of the pursuit vehicles that had chased him. All of them armed with assault rifles or mounted LMGs and all muzzles were trained on him.

“Open Fire!”

Without any time to think of any other plan, the barricade started firing as soon as The Wanderer threw up a dome to protect himself from every angle. It was at that moment that the group began spreading out around him, preventing any form of escape while they focused fire on the dome. While the dome did protect him from the onslaught of bullets, it certainly would not last forever. If he had been fully fit then he could laugh off the ambush until they ran out of bullets, but each impact on the barrier was felt in his mind, slowly losing his focus on keeping it up. It was because of that focus to keep the barrier out that he can’t concentrate on an escape route to phase jump to. He had to admit it, but he was trapped here and the prospects of him getting out of here alive were getting slimmer by the minute.