A cool wind caressed the desert and stirred the sand at Plymuth's feet. Bathed in the moonlight, he stood atop a high dune scanning the horizon with his night vision binoculars searching for place to bed down when day came. It had been approximately four hours since he left the Oasis hotel but he was still worried that the slaver still might pursue him so he checked behind him as well. Content that nothing was following him, Plymuth looked ahead once more and increased the magnification of the the viewer. He had thought he spotted something, and wanted to make sure that it wasn't just his imagination. Sweeping southward he could see some sort of structure in a valley and felt that he could make it in another three hours or so.

Plymuth finished off one of his many canteens and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He tightened the cap and slung the empty vessel around his neck as he continued his climb up yet another dune. Why in the hell a man of the sea would willingly hike into the desert was a question that had begun to plague his mind. He wanted to the see the ocean again, feel the sea spray on his skin, hell he'd even settle for a pond, any body of clean water would do. He snapped back to reality as he approached the crest and when he just about at the top, took out his binoculars and lied down on his stomach. Plymuth wanted to see who or what was around the structure and was curious to see a pack of dog-like beasts gathered around a carcass and whatever was dead was right beside a large truck that had been designed to run on the railway that followed the valley to the southwest.

He took his pack off and opened up a side pocket. Only one left and though he'd hate to waste it, better a fire-cracker than ammunition. Carrying the explosive in his hand and his solar lighter in the other, Plymuth approached the pack of wild dogs and waited to see what they would do before setting off the fireworks. Thankfully the creatures cleared away without a fuss and as he got closer to the what they had been feasting on found that little remained of the humanoid carcass. "Poor bastard." Commented Plymuth as he stepped round the body and pulled open the door to the vehicle, shining his heavy torch into it.

There was no one in the van, but Plymuth suspected that there may have been another, probably dragged away by whatever attacked them he reckoned. Damn shame for them, good luck for him to come across such a transport. Behind the truck, it was pulling another car but it was full of solar panels and beneath them batteries that provided extra power for locomotion and other things. An impressive set-up, considered Plymuth and so he tossed his gear into the back of the van, where there was a bed and some other seats. He then jumped into the driver's seat and turned the engine over, expecting it to sputter and die, but instead it kicked over. Plymuth grinned and put the converted railway truck into a gear and headed southwest down a well preserved railway.

Plymuth got the idea that the railway was main mode of transportation in this area by the apparent maintenance of the tracks. The body of the railway transports former owner had been mauled and there were no signs of a weapon used on his body so he figured that something must have got him. There were no discernible tracks left behind, but then one windy night would remove all traces, so he could only assume that for some reason the driver and his passenger or passengers had stopped and were ambushed. The railway would definitely be a target, Plymuth figured, a rolling deli for any sem-intelligent predators out there. He'd have to keep that in mind.

Rummaging through the van while keeping an eye on the tracks, Plymuth found a map of the area and learned that he was headed into a place called, 'Utah'. Scanning further west beyond what were now wide spread steppe lands, he found a place called Lake Tahoe, which had to be the 'Tahoe' that everyone was gravitating toward.

The railway track he followed had been hand drawn on the map and Plymuth could see that he was bound for a place called Ash Fall, which seemed to be a settlement or something. He estimated that he was about an hour away and decided to take a chance and pass through.

The eastern sky was beginning to softly glow when what Plymuth figured to be Ash Fall, came into view. On the horizon he could see the black shapes of warehouses and as the railway transport drew closer the scent unearthed minerals could be detected in the air. The closer he got to the structures, barely visible in the pre-dawn light, the more apparent it became that he was approaching what used to be a mining operation or at least that what it appeared to be.

Plymuth eased off on the transports power and brought it to stop just before reaching the first of several switches that diverted the many trains ahead onto a series of six separate tracks. The man of the sea, had never seen trains before but he had read about them and experienced them first hand when he first set foot on the continent so he was not at all unfamiliar with how they worked. Stepping out of the car with his spear gun in his hand, Plymuth made sure that the switch was set to detour him onto one of the side tracks since they way ahead was blocked. He then drove ahead until he found a track that was clear and diverted his smaller railway car onto it and slowly made his way between two long dilapidated trains. The first of the rusted old cars that he passed were empty, but after a while he began to noticed that some of them were filled with what he figured was coal, enough of it to fuel a town for some time.

He was passing beneath an immense structure which seemed designed to house and load the trains. About a quarter of a kilometer ahead he could see the light at the end of the tunnel, and instinctively Plymuth increased his speed not particularly liking the roof above him. He closed his window and decided to shut off his lights to make the vehicle less of a target just in case and just when he was about to knock himself for being too paranoid a blood curdling scream verified his suspicions.

Something big flashed past the windshield causing Plymuth to jump back. "What the &#$%!" he exclaimed as the thing vanished into the blackness just a quick as it appeared. He pressed on though since he had gone past the point of no return.

On another track he passed an abandoned car full of coal. It seemed to have been singled out and positioned for pickup or whoever was pulling it was forced to abandon the precious fuel. Plymuth began to try and put the pieces of the puzzle together, figuring that the transport he was driving had been in the giant warehouse before. They were gathering coal, but then they were interrupted by the screaming demons descending on them out of the darkness. They must hate light, that much was evident, but then why couldn't the others escape to the sun? The answer occurred to Plymuth as fast as the question occurred to him, "The fools were probably working in the evening and didn't realize that the sun had set, allowing the creatures to pursue them."

WHAM! Something big struck the side of the railway transport, rocking it. There was then a piercing scream, reciprocated by many others, echoing through the massive black expanse. Plymuth suddenly got the feeling that he was literally driving into hell, and now his only chance for survival was to make it to the light. He hoped.

The end of the enormous canopy, was but a bright narrow line in the distance speckled with the shapes of hundreds of flying creatures. They filled the air like frenzied gulls, battling for a mere morsel of food and Plymuth had a good idea that he was the scrap.

It appeared that the creatures were congregating on the tracks, obviously aware that the railway transports and engines were bound to them, that or else it was something else. 'The sound perhaps?' considered the ocean dweller, comparing the aerial monsters to those sea creatures that dwelled in the dark depths of the ocean, where no light save for those that made their own existed. The giant warehouse radiated with a constant cacophony of chirps and screeches, much like bats and as one of the giant creatures flew by Plymuth could distinctly make out black leathery wings. Indeed they appeared to be man sized bats, except their heads were elongated with no discernible eyes.

The transport suddenly plowed into to something blocking the tracks, and Plymuth could make out the sound of grinding bones under the metal wheels. A few moments elapsed and then he struck another and another until the drag of the corpses were starting to reduce the speed of the small engine. A few more hits, and he feared that the he lose enough speed to stall him out, and that would be certain death.

The sound of claws scraped across the roof of the transport and Plymuth's eyes were drawn to a hatch in the ceiling. It rattled, but he was hardly worried since he didn't think the creatures would worm their massive wings through such a small opening. He, however, could hear the sound of vigorously flapping wings and the engine was losing a significant amount of speed.

"Bullocks!" Swore Plymuth. He knew what was happening and didn't hesitate to act. Grabbing is triple barreled spear gun, he popped the hatch and counted on the element of surprise as he stood on the metal ladder and sprang out of the opening. There was a hiss behind him, and as Plymuth spun around pointing his gun, he stared into the black face of one of the creatures. It was holding onto a storage rack and and flapping its wings, attempting to stop the engine; it's large wings creating a considerable amount of resistance. The creature gnashed its teeth and snapped at the man, but Plymuth was quicker with his trigger and released one of his spring loaded spears into its mouth and through the back of it's head.

Plymuth watched as the creature twitched and collapsed, then ducked just in time as another came swooping down, slashing at him with it's rear legs. He let himself fall back into the cab, the hatch falling closed after him and as he rolled to his feet the transport struck another of the monsters trying to block the railway. Falling backwards from the impact, he fell against a box, spilling the contents across the floor. Small, roundish capsules rolled around the cab, and Plymuth immediately recognized them as a type of grenade. He grabbed one thought, 'what the hell', rolled down the window, pulled the pin and tossed one into the air. The explosion was very small, but it made an incredibly loud sound, that caused the creatures to scatter, but they returned a few minutes later. Reaching down, he gathered more of the percussion grenades and continued to hurl them out the window until he was at the edge of the vast canopy.

As the transport passed into the warm golden morning light, the creatures would not follow and retreated back into the shadows. The yellow transport, the front of which was splattered with the blood and black fleshy remnants shot out of the darkness and Plymuth was quick to apply the breaks. Ahead of him, was another similar looking transport, with a two armed men standing at either side of it.

One man, started to walk toward Plymuth's car before it came to a grinding halt, his hand gun casually resting on his shoulder.

Kitty and Tom awoke to find themselves abandoned by their traveling companions. They had searched the hotel high and low and it wasn’t until they took a look outside and saw the covered truck was missing, and everyone and everything with it. They were alone, in a strange place, without so much as “so long” from anyone.

Kitty felt her heart constrict in her chest knowing that Leo had left her like this. He could have at least been honest with her and told her good bye. That he couldn’t handle being close to her and having thing develop between them he wasn’t ready for. She would have completely understood. After all, she was an unnatural abomination and he was a human. Why would she be offended if he decided to back away from her?

At least Leo had been kind enough to leave them canteens and the back packs they stole from the soldiers with weapons and ammunition as well as some kind of dried meals. When Tom finally decided they should leave in case some of the slavers friends really do return, Kitty agreed. Thankfully it was still dark out and they could move relatively quickly and keep out of sight of nocturnal predators.

Donning her leather duster, Kitty loaded two Glock 9’s and holstered them in her shoulder holsters. They had about a dozen grenades, several boxes of bullets for the 9 MM’s and a few boxes of shells for the shot gun Tom carried. Each one had three canteens of water and they each had four of the dried meal boxes. Their packs weren’t all that light and it would make travel hazardous, but they had to get the hell out of here and head….somewhere.

They couldn’t go back from where they had come. Kitty’s safe bunker was destroyed and the lap Tom had been created in was compromised. There was no place left for them to go other than away from here. So cautiously stepping out of the Oasis hotel, they did a preliminary check, made sure the coast was clear then headed out.

It didn’t take them long to catch the trail of a lone traveler. And from the way his feet sunk into the dirt, he was loaded down pretty well, too. When Tom leaned down to get a good nose full of the scent, he told Kitty it was the stranger they had met in the hotel. The decision was made to follow him then. He was quite a ways ahead of them but thankfully the wind hadn’t covered his trail all that well. Not to mention Tom and Kitty could both catch his scent on the air and knew they were still going in the right direction.

By the time the sun was starting to lighten the night sky, Kitty and Tom hadn’t come across any nocturnal feeders. Thankfully they were able to find some crumbling building, or an old abandoned vehicle to hide in when they caught the scent of sound of something that would pose trouble for them.

They made pretty good time considering and they were able to catch a glimpse of the man in the distance. He was moving towards something that looked like a group of large buildings. If Kitty remembered her teachings correctly, they were called warehouses and they housed different goods. Sometimes food, sometimes machinery, sometimes minerals. It all depended.

When they reached the area, they heard a vehicle start up and start moving. Using the different buildings to conceal themselves, they moved as quietly and as quickly as they could to get closer to see what was going on. They reached the area just in time to see the strange vehicle disappear into the large place that seemed to swallow the vehicle up.

Kitty walked towards the structure and paused at the side of the entrance. The light outside was making it difficult for her eyes to see inside. She saw the vehicle getting further and further away and thought they were going to lose their possible ride and moved to step inside the tunnel when Tom’s hand gripped her upper arm gently but firmly. When she turned to look at him his brow was furrowed and he shook his head. She was about to ask him what was wrong when she heard the scream from inside.

Kitty took a step back and narrowed her eyes then as she looked within and saw the huge, winged creatures beginning to attack the vehicle. What ever they were, they were determined to get that vehicle. And they weren’t as stupid as they first appeared. She could make out their outline and see they were attempting to stop the vehicle by using their wings. That’s when she saw the hatch open up and saw the one creature fall from the top.

Stepping back from the structure, Kitty looked all around and then looked up. There was an exit on the other end of the structure. Perhaps they could go over the structure and be there on the other side to help fight the creatures off for it seemed as thought he man was going to make it through.

Using their claws and agile bodies, Kitty and Tom scaled the structure and began making their way carefully across the top of the structure. They could hear the fight that was taking place within it and Kitty hoped the man was able to come out on the other side unharmed, but she wasn’t going to hold her breath.

They had just reached the other side when Tom quickly pulled her down. Creeping along on their bellies to the edge of the structure, Kitty and Tom peered over the edge and saw the other vehicle stopped and the two men, very armed men at that, waiting for the vehicle to make it through. As the vehicle came to a screeching halt, Kitty and Tom saw the one armed man walking towards it with his gun resting easily on his shoulder.

Kitty and Tom exchanged looks and knew what the other was thinking. When the time was right, they would drop down from their vantage point and back the man up in the vehicle that had just made it through the fleshy gauntlet in the structure. Checking their guns to make sure they were ready to go and clicking the safety off, they waited to see what the man inside the vehicle was going to do as they crouched and made ready to jump down behind the vehicle for back up.

Plymuth was trapped and so all he could do was avoid ramming the other railway transport and wait and see what the two men's intentions were. They were both armed but neither were menacing him with their firearms but rather carrying them in a precautionary manner.

The smaller man with tanned skin and a few days growth on his face had a side arm and his larger Black companion had a shotgun. They walked on opposite side of the tracks and both stopped a few strides away from the vehicle, then the smaller man spoke.

"Where'd ya get that car?" he asked.

Plymuth clenched his jaw and looked from one man to another before replying. Despite there weathered faces, their clothes and equipment were well maintained and that meant they were from some sort of settlement. 'Guards, maybe?' he figured, and Plymuth could tell right off that they probably knew who had previously owned the transport so his best bet was to just come clean.

"The guy I got it from didn't need it anymore."

The talker glanced over at his friend than back to the stranger. "You kill him?" he asked.

Plymuth felt this might go bad and began to plan a defensive maneuver to get his ass out of there. He shook his head. "Was dead already." he answered, "Some of those things back there got him."

The man looked over at the stick black carcasses stuck to the front of the car and gave a slight smile. "Yeah, it seems you made it through okay.", he pointed out.

"Lucky, I guess." Plymuth replied then unable to play the cat and mouse game any longer piped up and questioned his interrogator, "So who the hell are you guys and what do you want with me?"

The man laughed then and his partner joined in. He holstered his weapon and approached the window of the car with his hand extended. Carefully, Plymuth reached out and shook it, keeping an eye on the other gunman.

"I'm Salem Midvale and this guy over here is Gurder. We're rangers from Stonehaven and we can't just let drifters up and steal our property, now can we?"

"Fair enough." Said Plymuth and opened the door, "I'll just grab me gear then and be on me way."

Salem stepped back. It was obvious that he was studied the man, looking him up and down and Plymuth knew just what he was looking for, but he wouldn't find it.

"Well you look, Human enough." Salem said then, "Why don't drive that car back with us."

"Back to this 'Stonehaven' place?"

"Yeah. No strings attached. Come back with us and take a look at our city, then we'll talk some more."

The two men walked back to their transport, got in and started back the way they had come and Plymuth thinking, 'what did he have to lose', followed them.

They drove straight west, their cars cruising at a speed of 50 kmph, crossing though the red desert of Utah. After half of an hour, Plymuth saw their settlement in the distance, or at least he though it was. As they got closer, it was just simply a large door in the side of the mountain and several train tracks flowed into it.

A large wall and gates had been built around the train tracks and as they approached one, Salem leaned out the window of his car and waved. The heavy horizontal bars pulled apart and they drove through.

Plymuth noticed as they passed by, that the guard in the tower closes to their gate wasn't Human at all. He had cat-like features, but for all intents and purposes he seemed far more Human than animal and Plymuth got the feeling that this community frowned upon animal mutants. He had come across one out East, Humanoids were accepted it but nothing with the features and especially the mannerisms of an animal.

Looking back he could see another gate that allowed walk in traffic to enter but they seemed to take their security very seriously. Plymuth could tell though that he could leave at anytime, and was relieved that he was not entering some sort of military compound.

Driving on, slower now, they made their way into a small, bustling city with far more development than any other place, Plymuth had seen so far. Apparently that they had an established security force to police the streets and had some sort of power source to generate electricity as well as access to water. What really impressed him the most, however, was that there were Humanoids walking alongside Humans on the streets, they were fewer in number of course, but it was still something to behold. Could this be the result of Tahoe? Plymuth was curious now, he couldn't wait to get out of his rail car so he could ask some questions but it seemed they were through a tunnel, traveling below ground.

Tom reached out and rested his hand on Kitty's arm as the man spoke to the other two men. His sensetive hears heard the man called Sam say ... "Well you look, Human enough." Tom looked at Kity and brought a finger to his lips. Signaling her to be quiet. They laid hidden side by side as the man drove the vehicle off following the other two men. Tom then whispered to Kitty. "Lets follow them and see where they go. If they threaten the man from the hotel, we'll help. If not maybe we can follow them into the place they call 'Stonehaven'. If we can find a place to hide there maybe we can find some food, weapons and ammunition. Maybe even a vehicle. ...... What do you say? You up for it?"

Kitty could hear some of the conversation that was taking place between the man in the vehicle and the ones who caused him to stop on the tracks. When Tom suggested they follow the cars, Kitty readily agreed. These men didn’t seem to care for those who weren’t fully human so that meant she and Tom would have to be very careful around them. Tom would blend in better but she was an obvious stand out.

The heat of the daylight sun wasn’t going to be easy for them to deal with. In fact, Kitty knew they would never make it if they didn’t find someplace to stay and let the oppressive heat of the day pass them by. They would have to arrive later than the man and hope he made out just fine on his own. Looking to Tom, she signed what he already knew was coming.

can’t make trip on foot during time of hottest temp. Will die. Need to find move quickly now then find place to wait out heat and make trip later when sun goes down. Not all that good to be exposed at night but better chance for us to reach stonehaven place than trying to walk in sun.

As Tom nodded his agreement, he led the way off the structure with Kitty following. They were careful to avoid the structures they knew would be home to the flying bat like creatures that attacked the vehicle Plymuth had taken control of. They walked for about an hour when they finally realized they best find that shelter before they died of heat stroke or suffered some other heat related illness.

A sparse cropping of buildings made just the place for them. It appeared they used to be office buildings of some sort so Kitty and Tom decided to use them for a resting place. Cautiously easing themselves into the structure, they advanced one at a time with weapons drawn sweeping the place for anything hostile. Tom found a set of stairs that led to the lower levels under ground. Kitty could feel the cooler air drifting up the stairs and was hoping it was safe for them to seek shelter there.

After another sweep of the lower level, they found it to be abandoned and even found a storage room that would be the perfect place for them to rest. Tom was able to close the door and put an old desk in front of it as a barricade. Once that was set in place, Kitty shrugged out of her backpack and leather duster and laid it on the floor. Sitting on her coat, she pulled her backpack around and opened it. Digging through the contents she brought out two of the meals for her and Tom to eat.

Tom settled down across from her and they ate in silence. Well….Kitty was always silent, but Tom was quiet as well. Not that he was all that talkative, but he had the vocal chords to talk like a normal person. While they didn’t discuss the others leaving them, it was obvious it was weighing on both their minds. Kitty didn’t eat all of her meal so she wrapped it up and placed it back in her backpack for later.

Once she had things taken care of, she put her backpack down and tried to fluff it as best she could to use for a pillow. Laying back she let the backpack cradle her head and she stretched out on her duster. Signing to Tom she was going to sleep, she wished him pleasant dreams.


_________________

A few hours later Kitty was awakened to Tom shaking her shoulder. Disoriented at first, she blinked and looked up at him confused before she quickly sat up thinking something was wrong. At first she looked to make sure Leo was alright but when she realized where they were and it was just her and Tom, she looked back at the hybrid and nodded. It was time for them to head out again. Signing a thanks to Tom, she stretched and got to her feet then donned her duster and backpack once more. Out of habit, she checked her guns to make sure they were ready to go then with another nod, she let Tom know she was indeed ready.

Helping Tom push the heavy desk away from the door, Kitty and Tom peered out into the hallway to see if anything was lurking. With the coast clear, they eased out of the room and once more did a sweeping check as they made their way to the stairs and out of the building. The sun was setting and along with it the heat of the day was slowly leaving the desert like environment. Checking the sky and horizon to make sure there were no surprises waiting, the two lab created hybrids began following the tracks once more.

With the heat of the day leaving, they were able to keep up a pretty good jogging pace without expending too much energy. All the while both of them kept looking behind them and all around them to see if they could see anything that would be hunting them. So far, so good, but the sun wasn’t all the way down yet.

By the time the last rays of the day were fading away, they could see the outline of a some mountains come into view. Stopping and studying the horizon, Kitty furrowed her brows. The tracks seemed to lead to the side of the mountain. Without knowing for certain, there was only one way to find out.

As the two hybrids started walking once more following the tracks, they heard a screeching scream in the distance behind them. Looking back they could see a dark cloud getting closer to them. While it was still pretty far away, they knew it was just a matter of moments before it would reach them. Without hesitation, the hybrids took off running as fast as their altered bodies would take them.

They could see the torches of the settlement at the gates coming into view when they heard the sound of flapping wings closing in behind them. Tom grabbed Kitty’s hand and made her run even faster as she began to fire behind her as best she could to deter some of the forward flying scouts of the flock. Tom fired the shot gun a couple of times as well to fend off a few of the faster flying ones that seemed to actually pass them and come at them from the front.

They were about 20 yards from the first set of gates when the flock was just beginning to swoop down on them. Kitty knew for certain this was the end for there were far more flying predators than she had ammunition but she wasn’t going down without a fight. Coming to a screeching halt, she yanked her hand out of Toms and turned. With both guns drawn, she began to fire at the approaching flock making one last stand before she became a bone picked carcass for these carnivorous predators. Tom, seeing what she was doing, joined her as he began to fire at the ravenous creatures.

From behind her, Kitty and Tom were suddenly bathed in bright light and the flying creatures that were already drooling in anticipation of a warm blooded meal let out a painful screech and quickly retreated away from the reach of the lights. The sound of guns being loaded and ready for fire was soon followed by a voice projected by some device that spoke from behind Tom and Kitty ordering them to lay down there guns, get their hands up, and state their business.

”Stop where you are and lay your guns down. State your business.”

Kitty and Tom stopped firing at the creatures, which was only good since their guns were out of ammo, and looked at each other. Very slowly they raised their hands in a surrender motion then turned to face the bright lights that blinded them. Squinting and blinking as they tried to see who was talking without hurting their eyes, the two hybrids knelt down and laid their guns gently on the ground before slowly standing back up with their hands still raised. Kitty looked at Tom and raised her brows then nodded towards the voice indicating he needed to say something before they found themselves in the dark and food for the hungry flock that still waited, screeching and squawking just outside the lights reach.

Tom looked up into the lights and with hius gravely voice said loudly "We are but weary travelers seeking shelter from the night. My sister and I mean no harm and only seek a small safe place to rest. We have our own food and water. ...... We will leave at dawn." When the man behind the light said "Holster your weapons and move slowly towards the gate with your hands on top of your heads. Any sudden moves and you will be shot where you stand. As he turned and knelt to pick up the shot gun, holstering it in the sling at the siade of his back pack and his back pack, Tom mouthed to Kitty not to worry there was dirt her face. Then they both rose, their weapons holstered, placed their hands on their heads and moved slowly towards the gate.

Plymuth opened the side cargo door of the transport and stepped out with his gear in hand. They had stopped in what looked like a bunker with a very low ceiling, then noticing a faded sign on the wall realized that they were in a mine. These men who called themselves, 'rangers' had turned the underground tunnels into a base and currently they were in the garage where the rail-cars were stored and maintained.

Salem Midvale and his partner, Gurder stepped out of their car and wandered over to a mechanic who was currently working on another transport. Plymuth could see that the metal door had long claw marks across it and figured they had been visiting that old rail yard for a while now.

"So would you like the grand tour...?" Asked Salem then his word trailed off when it occurred to him that their guest had never given his name, "Y'know, I never caught your name."

"I never threw it." Replied Plymuth.

Salem smiled, but the levity was not reciprocated by the grim looking man. He waited for the man to give his name and just when he was about to ask a second time, the man responded.

"Plymuth."

Salem nodded. "So where are you —?"

"From the east. An island formerly known as Britain." Plymuth interrupted, already anticipating the question. He couldn't hide his accent so there was denying his origins. "So do you guys treat all the strangers you meet in the desert this well?" he then inquired.

"No." Salem flatly answered, "But we recognize talent when we see it."

"Talent?" Plymuth didn't like the sound of that. He had considered that this may have been some sort of recruiting tactic and right away set the straight, "I'm not looking to join your outfit or any other, so I would be much obliged if you showed me the way out."

Salem and Gurder shared a look. They weren't used to people turning down an offer to become a ranger.

"Fine." Said Salem realizing that Plymuth unlike so many had conviction and he respected that. He pointed to a corridor and the British man took it without hesitation.

"Hey!", Salem called to the man's back as he quickly passed by.

Plymuth stopped and catching sight of something out of the corner of his eye snatched it out of the air with impressive speed and dexterity. It was a bag of coins.

"Those are credits. Payment for retrieving our car." Explained the ranger.

Plymuth opened the bag and found that it was filled with the ancient currency once used in this country.Tarnished silver coins which he believed were once known as quarters and nickels filled the bag and then there were smaller copper coloured coins he knew to be pennies.

"Thanks." Said Plymuth and continued on his way.

"Be seeing you around, Plymuth." Bid Salem.

Plymuth made his way through a few check points. The guards had all been notified of him via a radio transmission of some kind and allowed him to pass through the steel doors. The last door, after a good climb up a flight of stairs opened into a bright street. Shielding his eyes from the eleven 'o' clock sun Plymuth stepped out into the busy lane and blended in with the crowd.

As the gate was opened for Kitty and Tom to pass through, the bright, blinding lights used to keep the nocturnal, flying predators at bay remained well lit. It wasn’t until the two strangers were past the entrance and the gates closed the lights were turned off. As soon as the lights were turned off, the flying creatures flew forward to capture their prey only to find themselves thwarted once more by the iron, cage like roof that kept them out.

As the screeching, squawking bird like creatures tried in vein to get to Tom and Kitty, they both couldn’t help but crouch down and pull their weapons once more looking up at the sky. But when they saw the fact the creatures were kept out, they relaxed slightly and slowly stood back up. Of course by then the sentry’s were in place and pointing weapons of their own at the new comers.

“That’s far enough. Hand the weapons over.”

Kitty furrowed her brows and shook her head. The man sighed and held his hand out again, genturing his fingers for her to give the weapons over.

“C’mon. You’ll get ‘em back when you leave. Until then, you can’t go walking around with them. They could cause trouble.”

Kitty looked to Tom who gestured for her to turn her guns over to the men like he was. With some reluctance, Kitty did as requested but she wasn’t at all happy. The man glanced behind them then gestured once more.

“Backpacks too.”

Kitty furrowed her brows even more but shrugged the back pack off all the same handing it to the guards. The guard could see she wasn’t all that happy about it and grinned.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll get everything back. Promise. We’ll keep it safe for you in the meantime.”

The man looked at Tom then.

“She doesn’t say much, does she? At least with her mouth.”

As the guard turned to walk away, he gestured for Kitty and Tom to follow him. As they began moving into the settlement, Kitty looked all around. There were smells and sounds of all kinds coming from the place. Smells and sounds she had never experienced before and while she was cautious she was curious to find out what they were and what made them.

As the guard led them into a building he gestured to a couple of chairs.

“Have a seat. As soon as we get you registered we’ll send you on your way.”

Sitting down at a dilapidated desk, the guard picked up something to write with and looked over at Kitty.

“Alright, darlin’. Let’s start with you. What’s your name?”

Kitty didn’t care for his endearments and she quickly signed something Tom dared not interpret unless he and Kitty wanted to find themselves out in the darkness with those creatures again. When the guard saw she was using her hands to talk he furrowed his brows and looked to Tom.

“What the hell is that?”

"Hey!" called the ranger to his Plymuth's back before he melted into the busy street, "Take this."

The man handed him a green arm band that had an official looking insignia on it and the numbers, '5025-T'. Plymuth noted the guard was wearing one only his number ended in a '-R'.

"Salem says you should wear the band. It'll keep guys like me and the 'peace-keepers' from confiscating your gear," he explained with a smile, "and its not likely you'll be gettin' a permit anytime soon."

Plymuth was reluctant but he took the arm band and put it on. There was a limit to how much one should rock the boat and the mariner felt that it best to follow suit.

"There, you're an honorary ranger now." Said the guard, "But don't by tryin' to throw you're weight around, you hear."

Plymuth nodded, bit his tongue and walked away. He didn't like to be told what to do, which was one the main reason he wasn't about to join up with up some militant group who were obviously a little to full of themselves. Still, he did appreciate the 'temporary membership badge' which would allow him to move about without having to worry about the law. Apparently the 'rangers' shared power with the peace-keepers, who from what Plymuth could see were little more than thugs with authority. As he walked by a group of them, they immediately noticed his arm band and respectfully acknowledged him with wary nods but he didn't offer them a second look.

As he walked down the main street, Plymuth noticed once in a while he passed a 'humanoid', either a hybrid or some kind of mutant that appeared to be much more Human than not. Seeing that they tolerated mutations was very progressive, but then Plymuth saw the signs. Above a public well was written in large letters, 'Human's Only' and further down the road he found another tap, that was simply labeled, 'Mutants'. It then became very apparent that his kind were only treated as equals when it was in the best interest of the Humans and all others were tolerated and treated like second class citizens. No one had even suspected, Plymuth, however and it was obvious that as long as one looked Human they were treated as such.

Traveling further down the street, Plymuth passed by several businesses, some of which had racist signs before them, excluding mutants, but there were just as many places that welcomed all or at least tolerated non-Humans. As he grew hungry, Plymuth found a tavern called 'The Bulldozer'. A mutant tolerant establishment, built around an ancient earth moving device that he had once seen in a video. He found himself a quiet corner, and no sooner did he sit down than a young woman carrying a pitcher of water wandered over.

"A half-credit." She said gesturing to the water.

Plymuth flipped the mug on his table upright and handed her one of the copper pieces from his bag, figuring it to be a half-credit. She took the coin, smiled and filled his glass.

"Menu's written on the wall." The woman told him, "I'll stop back in a few moments."

Rarmon and Jack had survived the ordeal the two had fell upon each other on the night patrol which Rarmon had taken for the group to find a pack of Rex’s had smelt the blood on his chainsaw blade. The hounds immediately spread out into a formation he knew he had wandered too far out from the group for even the heavy thump of his rifle to reach their ears with the dunes disorientating the sound capturing it in the dessert lucky for Rarmon one individual had heard it had been Jack. Thanks to the able sniper Rarmon had been saved from an eternity of staring at the sun unable to move being torn apart by the Rex. The robotic soldier replayed the moment of meeting the Rex the heavy rifle thumping away in his hands the rounds ripping into the Rex. The numbers counted against him they came at him ever closer he let go of the empty rifle his programmed arms slipping the revolver out with a comical twirl round his finger sending the anti material rounds the revolver held blowing three Rex’s apart in seconds his other hand reaching for three more shells. Rarmon watched as he cracked the pistol open slamming another three of the expensive rounds the first Rex to reach him leaped for his face he slammed his fist into its jaw closing the slobbering maw with a crack of an uppercut still in mid air he saw the command for the pull of the trigger his gun kicking in his hand for a double tap. It seemed to be going so well till one had sneaked behind him jumping onto his back the thing aiming for his throat found only metal the thing tried again this time against the shoulder the metal had groaned seeming to fight the beast but finally the metal popped the arm popping from its joint the remaining strips of fake skin holding it in place.

The robotic soldier had continued to fight but was losing with only one arm he was unable to reload dropping the pistol he had revved up his chainsaw one handed swinging the blade as an attachment to his arm keeping the Rex’s at bay. His counter said 34 dead yet in front of him he saw another 12 Rex bit of a large hunting party he was about to give one final war cry deciding on his actions he stepped forward. As he entered the fray a Rex leaping for his shock helmet was blasted from the very air a sharp crack echoing in the air in the dune valley a figure was atop a dune the snipers coat wavering in the wind instantly his HUD identified the sniper to be fitted with a regulation rifle of the unit a MK11. The man had assisted him with sniper fire it had been Jack going for a toilet and had wandered upon Rarmon’s warzone realising the former comrade he had helped quickly. It hadn’t taken long Rarmon baiting them as the sniper killed the Rex’s after all 46 of the Rex had been killed Jack had assisted by placing the arm back in its joint giving maintenance to the robot on certain areas which he had not maintained over the years. Yet Rarmon had no recollection of the man yet he had explained they had been in the army together even his HUD told him the two had served he could recall nothing beyond his creation he didn’t believe it to be brainwashing maybe simply overwritten memories he could only assume a filled hard drive after all he didn’t have a unlimited brain capacity.

After the maintenance Rarmon returned to the hotel bringing along Jack who kept a watchful eyes to find everyone had left he shrugged he had made little attachment to the group yet found it awkward finding he had walked upon them almost 3 times or was it two shrugging he picked up his Bergen a note written in scratchy hand writing he could assume was Kitty it read simply. “Bye.” They had taken everything else they had left his huge Bergen as the thing weighted almost as much as Kitty and Tom together the heavy pack he slung on his shoulder looking to the sniper. Jack looked over the area his bionic eye looking over tracks and tells tale signs of the party were living there his grey eye followed almost as if he didn’t trust the bionic eyes results giving a nod of approval the two left with their gear. “Synchronising core chips.” Rarmon gave a small nod as he opened his HUD quickly doing the correct options allowing the two to connect with each other Jack quickly did his as well. The two connected via a link which they could send packets between each other be they simple chat boxes or full on reports and commands they began considering their options. A small chat box between them as they both moved over the most recent satellite photos of this area finally selecting a town then they decided they would infiltrate the town wary of losing all their kit and being defenceless afterwards.

The town they decided to pick just so happened to be Stonehaven and the irony the two happened to walk into the tavern which Plymouth had decided to accommodate. The heavy thuds of Rarmon walking past Plymuth the man could easily tell the two weren’t unarmed civilians the heavy thuds of the larger of the two the other not making a single sound on the rickety wooden floor of the tavern. Both had bags bulging full the two covered these with what seemed practical waterproofing material but Plymuth thought he saw a barrels sticking from Rarmon’s the purpose obviously to cover the bags from view of what may have hanged from them a light MG or rifle hanging off the side. The other individual held a single long tube on his back holding anything from artwork to who knows what maybe a sniper... The two had infiltrated the town 2 nights ago having slipped through the slack security of the full of themselves ‘Ranger’ having little skill to back their claims the two professional soldiers found a booth empty two tables from Plymuth Rarmon placed his bag on the ground with a final thud using his foot to push it under the table slipping into the seats taking the whole seat with his wide frame. Rarmon’s coat flapping open slightly as he had sat the tail had caught on the table corner Plymuth easily saw the huge revolver in a holster at his belt the man quickly covered the weapon with his coat again. The eerie eyes seeming to be alive telling most patrons that this man was at least part Cyborg or maybe even a full model. The other man most could tell little about obviously more into keeping to himself he slid in carefully placing the tube next to him in the booth he slouched back in the booth enjoying the comfort of his seat.

The two talked idle chat varying from drink, violence; past events even Plymuth did not recognise certain battle fields they had both been on. The two seeming not to care if any could hear their conversation the waitress came to their table the cyborg giving a full smile asking if they served whiskey ordering the one for himself his friend only asked for a cup of water the two continued their idle chatter. Rarmon had noticed the striped band on one of the patrons arm the old HUD seemed to have small files on small groups of people forming their own militia a common variety named a ‘Ranger’ Rarmon found it unusual the man seemed to be his own person dismissing others his weaponry surprised him as well and the casual glances around the tavern told him the supposed Ranger was probably new to the tavern or like them was trying to cover up his vigilance of the whole tavern his hands open palmed on the table ready to reach for a weapon or to defend himself much like Jack and Rarmon.

The Bulldozer Tavern...

Plymuth had deliberated over the menu for a while. He wasn't yet used to inland cuisine and longed for a fresh fillet or even some seaweed, so he ended up settling for a roasted Kaboren spider. He had read they were somehow related to crustaceans and so he figured the fare would be palatable, maybe even enjoyable.

The server brought his beer ahead of time. A nice heavy bodied stout which was to his delight almost as good as back home. Plymuth threw back a swallow, eased into his chair and studied the giant earth moving machine in the middle of the tavern. The 'bull dozer' as they called it, had body hollowed out and was converted into a bar. The tracks had table tops laid across the them and the floor had been raised under the bar stools that had been set before them. It was an ingenious use of the old machine, Plymuth considered, they had even used the giant scoop which was in raised position to hold the kegs of ale and beer and hoses connected them to the taps at the bar, which the newcomer recognized to be old petrol pumps.

As Plymuth enjoyed another swig of his stout he noticed another old machine wander into the establishment. This one was a large mechanized man, the same man that had rained down bullets into the basement of the Oasis hotel, but Plymuth had sought shelter before he could meet Rarmon, thus he didn't recognize him. He did recognize, however, that both he and his companion were toting poorly concealed weapons, which was odd since everyone in Stonehaven had to turn in their firearms. They definitely weren't rangers nor were they the law, but for all Plymuth knew they could have permits. Either way it was none of his concern.

"Roast Kaboren spider, sir." Said the server as she presented Plymuth with a large streaming spider, lying on its back with the legs pointing upwards, "Another beer?" she asked as she placed the platter on the table.

Plymuth stared at the spider for a few seconds. It really didn't look much like a crab, but if he used his imagination perhaps he could get past its appearance, so long as it tasted good. "Yea... another pint, please." To help me wash down this cooked aberration, thought Plymuth.

The two soldiers sat in a booth not far from Plymuth, at least by the way they looked he assumed them to be some kind of soldier. They were well within ear shot and so he was able to listen to the entire conversation, in fact they were loud enough so that the people at the bar could hear their stories. Tales of old battles, of course, what the hell else do soldiers talk about? Plymuth didn't know, really didn't care. Presently he was enjoying his spider, which actually did taste a lot like crab! "$#%& me, never would have believed it." he quietly expressed, thinking the next time he was on the road he'd bag one of these little monsters for dinner.

As he licked his fingers and finished off his first pint, Plymuth took note of the three peacekeepers that entered through the door at the far end of the place. One could hardly miss them as they all wore the same grey long coats despite the variations of other armours and protective gear. On the left shoulder of the coats was some kind of symbol, a red and black coloured standard with two crossed swords at the center and some text written around the perimeter.

Plymuth shot a glance over at the two shoulders to check their reaction when the law enforcers entered. The last thing he wanted was to get caught in any cross fire and from the looks of things all of the men seemed capable of delivering quite a barrage of gun fire. Between the thee peacekeepers were an automatic rifle, two shot guns and at least a couple of handguns and other melee weapons, like machettes and knives for back-up. They also seemed to be wearing kevlar vests, although a few had seen far better days.

One of the peacekeepers, the one with the automatic rifle approached the bartender and exchanged a few words in a hushed voice. Simultaneously they both glanced to the back of the tavern, but then the peacekeepers just walked out of sight round the other side of the giant bull dozer. Plymuth spotted them, through the windows of the hollowed out earth-moving machine and saw that they were sitting down at a table in the far corner and breathed a sigh of relief.

Plymuth continued eating his spider, digging out the succulent meat in its bulbous abdomen then someone behind him purposely said aloud, "I don't know why the hell a ranger would lower himself to eat among us common folk!" The comment was obviously meant for him to hear it and was said with animosity but since he wasn't really a ranger, Plymuth just ignored the remark.

"Just calm down." Said another voice. Obviously the sensible and sober one of the group trying to keep his friend starting anything.

"I'm calm." Slurred the wise-cracker, "I'm calm. Don't touch me. I just feel that since we're paying them taxes as well they might actually do a better job policing the outlands. I lost two bulls last week. Two! I think they owe me!"

"I said calm down, Reins!" Said the sensible one, more forcibly this time, then he actually apologized on behalf of his loud mouthed friend, "We're sorry, ranger. My friend's a little drunk, that's all."

Plymuth still didn't turn around. He judged by the shuffling of the men's feet that they were at least three meters away and he had detected no tell tale noises of a ranged weapon and anything they said didn't concern him. He couldn't give two shits about the rangers but the man's angry comments had made him realize that there was dissension among the people concerning both the rangers and the peacekeepers. One thing he noticed as well is that their seemed to be a lot more of the grey suited law enforcers, probably part of the original governing body but now this militant group that seemed to start off as perimeter guards were making a play for a bigger piece of the pie. Perhaps wearing a ranger's armband wasn't the best idea after all?