Despite Tex's half-hearted protests, we changed direction and started out of the ruins, but getting out was easier said than done. We'd managed to get a fair distance into the devastated city even before we'd met the first ambush, and moving Tex with us wasn't easy. He insisted on trying to walk at first, but every movement caused blood to seep through the patch job Doc had done on him, so he was finally overridden. The fact that Doc, wiry as he was, could have taken the much bigger Tex in a wrestling match without breaking a sweat may have helped decide the issue.
It was slow going. Chasity and I took turns carrying the makeshift litter with Doc and pulling security. Doc trooped along with the litter so he could monitor his patient, but even he kept his sidearm slung ready. Hopefully we'd given the yellow muties enough of a bad taste that they wouldn't come near us again, but with one of us wounded, there wasn't any guarantee that they stay away. Even if they did, there was always some nightmare beast nestled away in the ruins of these old cities.
As we soon found out.
26 June 2012
25 June 2012
An Apology and A Promise
I'm a lazy person, I'll admit it. I have been meaning to do some creative writing (whether it be game design or fiction) but I just can't seem to find the motivation. Or when I do think of doing it, I'm busy at work and unable to do it.
This can't go on.
So here's my promise. I will do... SOMETHING each week. I've let weeks go by without doing any writing or design so I'm just going to say that I'll do something each week, show some sort of definite forward progress. And I'll blog about it, I'll write about it right here.
My email address is davpid@gmail.com so if you don't see something from me in any given week, feel free to harass me or berate me or encourage me or otherwise get in touch. Because, and this may be slightly self serving, I get most excited when I know people are expecting me to do something or actually reading what I write. So hit me up, let me know.
This can't go on.
So here's my promise. I will do... SOMETHING each week. I've let weeks go by without doing any writing or design so I'm just going to say that I'll do something each week, show some sort of definite forward progress. And I'll blog about it, I'll write about it right here.
My email address is davpid@gmail.com so if you don't see something from me in any given week, feel free to harass me or berate me or encourage me or otherwise get in touch. Because, and this may be slightly self serving, I get most excited when I know people are expecting me to do something or actually reading what I write. So hit me up, let me know.
14 June 2012
Unchosen 22
"How ya doin' on ammo, Chas?" I asked as I counted out my remaining bullets. It wasn't a pleasing number.
"I'm not going to run out in the next five minutes," she said after a minute, but I could tell by her tone that she wasn't doing much better than I was. "How's Tex?"
I glanced over toward Doc and Tex again. Doc's hands were moving steadily, but there wasn't anymore tension to the set of his shoulders, so I knew Tex would live. Throatshot, and he'd live, I thought, shaking my head ruefully. Doc was a wonder kid, that was for sure. Still, we had to get him out of here, or else no amount of doctoring was going to help.
"Looks like we might have to put up with him a bit longer yet," I replied.
"Pity," she shot back. I glanced over at her, and noted her intense stillness. She had more to say, and was working up to it. I let the silence play out, staring forward intently. Finally, she rolled onto her side to shout at Doc. "Hey, Doc! Soon as you're done, we're out of here."
"The hell..!" Tex croaked, then coughed weakly before trying again. "The hell we are. We've got to find your kin."
"They're dead," she growled back. "You're not. We're leaving."
"I'm not going to run out in the next five minutes," she said after a minute, but I could tell by her tone that she wasn't doing much better than I was. "How's Tex?"
I glanced over toward Doc and Tex again. Doc's hands were moving steadily, but there wasn't anymore tension to the set of his shoulders, so I knew Tex would live. Throatshot, and he'd live, I thought, shaking my head ruefully. Doc was a wonder kid, that was for sure. Still, we had to get him out of here, or else no amount of doctoring was going to help.
"Looks like we might have to put up with him a bit longer yet," I replied.
"Pity," she shot back. I glanced over at her, and noted her intense stillness. She had more to say, and was working up to it. I let the silence play out, staring forward intently. Finally, she rolled onto her side to shout at Doc. "Hey, Doc! Soon as you're done, we're out of here."
"The hell..!" Tex croaked, then coughed weakly before trying again. "The hell we are. We've got to find your kin."
"They're dead," she growled back. "You're not. We're leaving."
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