An old private airfield near the border of California and Nevada. Quite remote but sometimes a few tourists just want to stay a few days in Primm and bet a few money before leaving the state. The airfield is one hangar connected to a tower and a little residential area where Tomas and Stacey spends most of their days while there's no flight. The tower is where Andrei watches the nearby signal and airplanes nearby and his crazy theories.

Since The Great Fear the hangar was closed to the public and have been renovated. The hangar door has been turned into a large wall and the only was in is the side door and the many escape tunnels that Andrew created. They placed an old trailer and attach it to a door near the hangar. This trailer serves as storage in the outside this trailer is protected with spikes to avoid pesky raider stealing stuff. They went to Primm and Andrew "borrowed" money from a casino and bought all the supplies. Which totals to a lot of scrap metal and 1.5k food units.

They have a value of 15.000 dollars of things to be sold after bad things happen however combining the stuff they don't need in the airfield they can get 18.000 dollars They have a lot of pistols and rifles lying around some were military which was scavenged in an abandoned building. They have 2 9mm pistol, 1 10mm Pistol, An old BB gun and A scavenged A5 15 and Kriss Vector. They also have broken rocket launchers and flamethrowers but it would take alot of materials to rebuild them. And they have three have: Two toolboxes with tools
Extra radio (can be sold)
Antenna for radios
Spare computers
A case of shotgun shells
8 cases of aka-47 ammuniton
A few BB gun ammo
A whole lot of pistol ammunition (10mm and 9mm)
Spare ammunition that they don't have weapons for (spare 5mm and 5.6 ammo)
Weapons that they don't have ammo for (salvaged flamethrower and salvaged missle launchers)
Car parts
Motorctcle Parts
10 wine crates of salvaged scrap metal
8 large carts of wood (stolen from lumber shops)

Finally their means of transportation. Their planes was turned into piles of scrap metal but they are still using an old 150 raptor ford.

The Survivors:
wip
The Lore:
wip

The Oakwood ranch was originally built as a hideout for a wealthy celebrity. When Anna bought it, it already had a 2 meters (around 7ft) brick wall surrounding the main buildings, with a steel gate protecting the entrance and small watchtowers in the corners.

Map:

Buildings:

• The main building is a two-story house. The first floor contains a large kitchen joined with a dining room, one whole wing is turned into a large food storage. There is also a small living room with the wood heater. Second floor contains four bedrooms and three bathrooms. Under the house there is a small cellar, that can be used as a short time shelter in case of a tornado.
• Barn - large barn used both as a stable for the horses and as a storage for hay, straw and fodder for the livestock
• Armory - small building in the middle of the courtyard, containing all the weapons and ammunition. Armory is locked all the time and only Anna and George have the keys.
• Shed - simple wooden shelter for all the tools and equipment. Part of the shed is designated for the diesel generator.
• Well - a deep well suplying fresh water
• Henhouse, pighouse and a cowshed - wooden shelters for the animals, with fenced coops.

Food
The survivors need around 7 units per day.
Live hens – eggs = 1 unit/day
Live cows – milk = 2 units/day
1 grownup pig = 250 units (50-60 days)
1 grownup cow = 600 units (150 days)
Livestock: 30 hens, 12 pigs, 20 cows
Storage – 1400 units (flour, cans with various things, oil,…)

Basic supplies

• Firewood – 30 m3 (1000 ft3) – 12 months’ supply for heating during winter and hot water during all year
• Planks – small amount of planks for repairing buildings, fences,…
• Nails, rope, candles
• Food for animals - hay, straw, grains, corn. Horses can live off current supply + grass for 6 months (but can survive on grass only), pigs for 6 months, hens for 9 months, cows hay + grass 12 months (but can also survive on grass only).
• Fuel for diesel aggregate – 4 large 500l/260 gal tanks, enough for 400 hours of operation
  tank [+]

  
• Engine oil

Advanced supplies

• Medical – antibiotics (for full 20 full treatments), operating equipment (5), painkillers (50)
• Mechanical – diesel aggregate with spare parts, indoor wood heater (heating + water)
• Various – batteries, matches, wire

Tools

• Tools for taking care of the animals - pitchforks, buckets, baskets
• Axes, hammers, chainsaw, regular saw
• Toolbox with spanners, pliers, etc.
• Tools for gardening - shovels, hoes, spades

Trade
Cigarettes, alcohol - around $4000 worth pre-Apocalypse

Weapons

• 5 M16A4 assault rifles + 15000 rounds 5.56×45mm NATO
• 10 Glock 31 semi-automatic pistols + 15000 rounds .357 SIG
• 2 semiautomatic shotguns Beretta 1301 + 2000 rounds
• 1 AWM sniper rifle + 1000 rounds .300 Winchester Magnum
• 5 Raptor FX3 crossbows + 2000 arrows
• Machetes, axes, knives

Vehicles

• 5 horses
• A small tractor
• 1 SUV - belongs to Ethan
• 1 pickup truck - belongs to Anna

Anna May (43) – the owner of the ranch
Ever since she was a little girl, Anna was a huge fan of post-apocalyptic stories. Whether it was a book, movie, TV show, comic book or anything else, she read it breathlessly, not as a fiction, but as a description of possible future. Thinking about the end of the world has became a hobby for her - she would come up with various scenarios and then spent hours figuring out what she would do.

When she got married and had a son, she didn't have that much spare time anymore, but when her husband died from a bacteria resistant to all common antibiotics, her interest in the matter has been reignited.

Her parents were rich real-estate magnates which meant she had nearly unlimited trust fund. During the last worldwide economic crisis, Anna could see all the signs of the society being close to the collapse. The danger was averted back then, but Anna decided that she needs to be truly prepared, not just fantasize about it.

She bought the Oakwood ranch and started a long journey to make it a self-sustainable safe house, collecting a few like-minded people along the way.

Ethan May (26) – Anna’s son, studied medicine and works as a physician
Ethan’s father died when he was very young, so Ethan spent most of his life only with his mother. Her enthusiasm for prepping influenced him mostly in a negative way - while he won't say it out loud, he thinks his mother is a bit crazy, and he definitely doesn't believe that the end of the world is coming.

His grandparents’ money allowed him to study one of the most prestigious university and he became a doctor at the age of 24. At the time, he was already dating Rachel and soon married her. His mother thoroughly approved his career choice (it is useful to have a doctor in a family when the society collapses), but she isn't too happy about Rachel, as she is a damsel used to life in a big city, with nearly useless education and not very positive attitude.

Ethan is currently taking a vacation, spending some time with his wife and daughter at the Oakwood ranch.

Rachel May (24) – Ethan’s wife, majored in history of art, currently a housewife

Alex May (6 months) – Ethan’s and Rachel’s daughter

Bob and Mary Colbright (35, 38) – married couple, hired by Anna as farmhands

George Andrews (41) – hired by Anna as farmhand, weapon enthusiast, ex-military
George has always been a fighter. Ever since he was a child, he used any excuse to fight other children, often older and bigger than him. After being kicked out of high school and almost ending up in jail, he decided to join the military. The army life finally taught him to control his temper (at least to some extent) and George discovered his love for guns of any kind.

He served for over 15 years and saw all kinds of cruelty that one human can do another. This made him believe that everyone has to be responsible for their own safety - no one else can keep you safe other than yourself. When the society first shook during the economic crisis, George saw that a lot of people were on the brink of turning into violent monsters. Luckily, the crisis was averted back then. But he wanted to be prepared for when the next one inevitably comes.

When he met Anna, he felt like he had finally found someone who understands his fears and his urge to be prepared. He joined her on the Oakwood ranch and while she took care of being stocked with food, tools, having livestock to be self-sustainable and finally some people to help out with all that, he made sure that the newly built armory is as well-stocked as he could manage. He bought guns and ammunition, legal or ilegal, with Anna’s silent approval.

He is a bit irascible, but willing to give his life for his friends’. That is when he actually manages to make some friends, not everyone has patience to withstand his temper.

Edward Moore (36) – hired by Anna as handyman – amateur mechanic, plumber, electrician, carpenter and anything else needed

“Come on, ride faster!” Anna shouted to George, who was way behind her again. She laughed, she knew how much he hated horse-riding. But he did agree with her that horses were extremely useful means of transportation in various crises, so he continued to learn, frowning and cursing along the way. Anna slowed her mare so he could catch up with her, and enjoyed the afternoon sun with her eyes closed.

“If there wasn’t an infant on the ranch, we wouldn’t have to ride so far,” he growled when he finally reached her, tottering from side to side as he tried his best to remain in the saddle.

Anna rolled her eyes. She had gotten used to his tempers, but sometimes she just ran out of patience. “I am not going to kick my granddaughter out. And you look like you still need a lot of practice anyways.” George grumbled something, but she wasn’t listening to him anymore. “I think this is a good spot.”

Nodding, George got off the horse, obviously relieved. He looked at the animal with distrust. “Shoo,” he waved his hands, when the horse came closer to him, wanting some treat.

Anna giggled. “Maybe you should tie him to something, so he doesn’t run off. Unless you want to walk all the way back, of course.”

“That might be better,” George mumbled, but tied the reins to a tree. Finally showing some excitement, he took out his Glock and handed it to Anna. “Well dear lady, I hope you have enjoyed mocking me. Now it’s my turn. I think that tree will make a good target,” he pointed at one pine about thirty meters from them. There was a steep slope behind it, so bullets wouldn’t go flying around in the forest. Not that it would matter, there were never any people around in these woods.

Anna shrugged. “Don’t be so certain.” She took the gun and tried to remember what he had been teaching her. She squeezed the grip and switched the safety off. She knew that there is already a round in the chamber - it didn’t seem too safe to her, but George always said that carrying a gun with an empty chamber has about the same effect as carrying a brick in your holster. Straddling a bit, she pointed the gun towards the tree and gently pulled the trigger.

The horses neighed, they were used to the ranch being used as a shooting range, but still they didn’t like the noise much. Other than that, her shot had little effect, the tree remained unharmed.

George laughed. “Now who is it that needs practice?”

“Shut up.” She took a deep breath and aimed more carefully. Exhaling, she pulled the trigger again and this time a small explosion of bark on the trunk appeared. “Aha!”

“You just got lucky. Again,” George said, but she saw he was smiling.

Life After -

The Stronghold:

A roof tent on top of a 2012 Toyota Hilux. It was rough and aging, the material patched together in numerous places and the fold down ladder rusty. The young couple lived out of the tent whenever they were on the road and couldn’t find a motel to crash in. Since the disaster a motel that still operates is very rare but they occasionally bump into a madman that’s still in business; ofcourse they no longer use cash as currency, it’s all smokes, booze and drugs.

Living out of a tent wasn’t exactly like living in a five star hotel, but the ability to travel freely while avoiding any links to society made it worth it. Nobody could trace them, no postal address , no police that could come knocking. Complete Freedom.

The Toyota Hilux looked like it had been through a tough life but mechanically it was sound. The body worked bumps, knocks and holes. It was more scratched that the face of a penny and the rust was a similar colour. The three litre engine had 250,000 KMs on the clock but had never missed a service, the oil changed regularly and the coolant kept to the correct level. When a vehicle is your home you don’t want it breaking down.

A Glock pistol is attached to the inside driver side door, held on by a makeshift duct tape holder that Byron had created himself. On the passenger side dashboard a pump action rifle lays, ready to be grabbed by whoever was riding ‘shotgun’. Behind their heads held up by a metal pipe is a rarely used hunting rifle, it’s old and prone to jams but with a bit of TLC could be operating as good as new. A hundred rounds of ammo for the pistol sat in a box inside the glove compartment, next to a box of fifty shotgun shells and twenty-five loose rifle ammunition. Not a lot in comparison to some people but before the disaster they rarely used the guns, often finding the the sight of them scared people more than actually shooting.

In the back of the truck locked away in a ‘dog cage’ is several cartons of Marlboro cigarettes, holding six hundred cigarettes in total. The writing on the front of the cigarettes is a health warning in Spanish. They had purchased these in bulk in Mexico tax free in the hope of selling them for profit back in California. In a duffel bag held a variety of narcotics and medicine. A few boxes containing four hundred asrins and two hundred ibuprofens they used regularly to fight away hangovers. Two hundred codeine pills and three hundred Tramadol pills he had stolen from his mother before leaving. He had photocopied and forged his mothers prescription to receive a vast load of this medication from different chemists on the same day. Two kilograms of Cannabis that had once belonged to the Cartel and two hundred grams of Ketamine in pill format that he had stolen from a Veterinary office in South California.

In a large cooler box located at the rear of the truck is twelve Corona beers, six pints of milk, two loaves of bread, two packets of ham and a wedge of cheese. The staples of a great diet. Three twenty litre jerry cans sit side by side, one filled with water and the other two filled with petrol.

Survivors:

Byron and Riley co inhabited the truck. Two young try hard wannabe Bonnie and Clyde’s who drunk daily and would take any drugs they could get there hands on. They have lived the start of their adult lives on the road, evading the police and traveling back and forth between Mexico and California running drugs and weapons for the Mexican cartel. They were low level and didn’t hold a lot of trust by the cartel but were seen as expendable so often used.

Byron is six foot two, leaning towards the slightly skinny lanky side. He has dark hair that hangs just over his eyes and is comparable to a messy mop, it’s unclear whether he chooses this style or hasn’t had a good haircut in a long while. He grew up with a single disabled mother who was bedridden due to a back injury. He had nobody to wash his clothes or teach him how to dress and as such was bullied at school. To deal with his childhood trauma he began stealing his mothers pain killers, getting high regularly at a young age. He often got into fights and had to learn fast how to defend himself in a cruel world.

He eventually ran away at the age of fifteen, and began to roam the streets. During his time on the streets Byron learnt how to sleep rough in an urban environment, he learnt where he could sleep without being found, where he could easily find and steal food and where he could find water. He fell in with the wrong crowd and flitted between homelessness and jail.

Riley is five foot six inches with dirty blonde hair that was once brown, the original colour has started to grow out from her roots and split ends cover her shoulder blades. She has a pretty face but you can tell she leaves a rough life. Dark bags hang from her eyes and her skin is prone to outbreaks. Riley also became homeless at an early age, growing up in an abusive household with two alcoholic parents that treated her violently regularly and blamed her for all there economic and marital problems. She was meant to be the baby that saved the marriage but ended up taking the blame for every problem before and after her birth.

At the age of fourteen she escaped from the house after a particular brutal fight with her dad, she had started to lash out and fight back against her parent causing him to hit her even harder. She flitted between older mens homes and dark alleys as she hunted for a secure and stable place to call her home. Learning early to use her charisma to get herself out of sticky situations, by putting on a vulnerable female act she could bend people to her every whim then exploit them. She convinced people to take her in then stole everything they owned.

Riley and Byron met through a mutual friend, a drug dealer. The couples similar experiences drew them together and they bonded quickly, becoming partners in crime and going on to spend years on the road together.

The Lore:

Byron drove with a joint in his hand and a beer in the center console, he believed that while wanted for numerous federal charges that would put him in prison for the majority of his life a DUI is the least of his worries. Riley sat in the passenger seat with her feet up on the dash, staring into the mirror half day dreaming half looking for blue flashing lights. They’d lived this way for nearly eight years.

Riley tapped out a cigarette from the packet, reading the warnings but not understanding the language. “How much do you think we’ll get for all of these?” She asks, snapping out of her trance and looking over to Byron.

Byron exhales smoke as he replies“I’ma try get ten dollars a packet at least, we need to undercut the reservation. I hope the government bans that shit, more money in my pocket.”
“And what about the dope in the back?”

“Fuck all, we still owe the Cartel the initial principle. If we don’t pay them back by next week we’re done for. I don’t think even an apocalypse or some big disaster could stop them chasing up debts.” Laughed Byron, chucking the smoked roach out of the window. He continued driving, Lo-Fi rap was playing through the radio, his iPod connected via an Aux cable.

Riley leant over and turned down the music, causing Byron the scowl. Ignoring the scowl Riley sat up straight, looking over with a pleading look in her eyes. “I’m getting sick of this, baby… Let’s just shift this gear and go on the lamb, get on a plane and go to some foreign country, somewhere cheap like Thailand. They’ll never find us there! I don’t know how much longer I can live off tinned beans and mouldy bread.”

Byron snapped back coldly, causing Riley to flinch. “Are you fucking stupid? What did I just say about them never stopping? Whatcha’ want to do? Go into the forest and set up some kind of camp, I’ll hunt while you stitch clothing? It’s delusional, this is the twenty first century. You can’t just disappear.”

He fumed silently for a while, swigging on his beer as he continued to drive down the long stretch of road. He calmed down and glanced over to Riley sobbing silent tears. “Look… I’ll plan something big. A job that will pave the way for our future, no more little scores.. We’ve got each other and that’s all that matters, no matter what happens.”

Survivors:
Eric Freeman – A good hearted, but distrusting man of forty-eight years Eric is the a-typical prepper. He’s not expecting anything nation breaking but has prepared for a devastating natural disaster all the same. Lately he’s amped up his efforts, and refreshed his supplies as something seems off in the geo-political environment. He works as a pilot for FedEx, and has served ten years in the US Navy as a fighter pilot before retiring. He’s a widower and the legal guardian of his niece Tonya, and has no children of his own. His skills are limited, but he’s a decent survivalist and a competent hunter. He’s also happens to be a trained pilot, with particular skill in flying large multi engine aircraft.

Peter Wan – A twenty-two year old electric engineering major from Korea. Peter isn’t much of a prepper but he’s renting out Eric Freeman’s spare bedroom so that he can attend his classes at UT, he also works part time at a nearby pizzeria. Peter is proficient with electronics, and configuring radios and he’s got a pretty good head on his shoulders. Peter doesn’t spend too much time around the house, and has only been staying with Eric for about two months.

Tonya Wisher – Tonya is a twelve year old girl originally from Montana who now lives with her only uncle outside of San Antonia Texas. Her parents were killed in an accident a year back, and after being passed around from one family member to the next she finally settled in with Eric Freeman, her mother’s brother. Eric bought her a puppy to help cheer her up, and enrolled her in the local Girl Scouts. She’s a smart girl and quick to learn and hardly any trouble, of which Eric is very grateful.

The Stronghold

Set at the end of a cul-de-sac on Blueberry Street in New Braunfels Texas is Eric’s one story three bedroomed suburban residence. The house has been prepped for natural disasters, having a decent amount of canned food and clean water stored in the attic, (about two hundred units) and a solid concrete foundation. From within the attic there is access to the roof and a number of small windows which can act as makeshift shooting ports in the event of a siege. The attic is the most secure part of the house, with stacks of prefilled sandbags, fire hydrants, shovels, and axes all ready to be used, along with a twelve foot ladder should escape into the back yard be necessary, and an inflatable raft with an electric pump.

The ground floor of the house is fairly typical for a usual suburban dwelling. The decorations are sparse but homey and the rooms are kept clean. In the kitchen is an extra twenty units of perishable supplies for regular use, usually restocked by Eric every week or so. In the living room is the TV and a portable radio and a couch which can double as a bed or door barricade. The spare bedroom is kept in good condition by Peter, and is usually left alone by Eric. In Tonya’s room, besides the normal furnishings, is a hand portable radio, and in her closet a hastily made up survival bag with six units of nonperishable food, and several other basic essentials.

In the master bedroom Eric has a two walk-in closets, one of which he’s turned into his personal armory. Within he keeps his AR-15 with about four hundred 5.56 rounds, two 9mm Glocks with about ninety rounds, and a 12 gauge pump action shot gun with roughly thirty rounds. Also stored in that closet, which is kept locked at all times, Eric keeps his own massive survival backpack with twelve units of nonperishable supplies and a compound bow with a quiver of twelve arrows, and a two foot long machete. In there he also keeps an expansive first aid kit, including a range of anti-biotics, gauze and bandages, and water treatment tablets.

Out back in the fenced in yard is a six month old border collie named Bella, whose more Tonya’s pet than an actual guard dog. Nevertheless she is pretty good at protecting the outdoor portion of the house from marauding cats and squirrels, keeping Eric’s tool shed safe, and in the case of real intruders could alert those inside the house with her loud yips. Within Eric’s shed are three barrels of gasoline and a generator, should the electricity be cut off. Eric also keeps his extra plywood for boarding up the windows, and a wide array of tools for practical use on the house and vehicles.

In the carport out front Eric keeps his GMC pickup truck parked next to his beloved Harley Davidson motorcycle, along with his and Tonya’s bicycles. Peter owns his own Prius which is usually parked exposed in the driveway.

Lore:

The terminal grew calm like always in the waning hours of the day. The constant chatter of arrivals and departures faded into quiet calm as Eric Freeman, still in his suit and tie patiently waited for the arrival of the twelve o’clock flight. It was late, very late. Checking his shiny silver watch once more Eric sighed and loosened his tie. It was already fifteen after two, he’d landed his own plane nearly three hours ago having expected his niece to arrive shortly after. This of course didn’t happen and Eric found himself waiting one extra hour, and then another, and another. The delays apparently having been serious, either by bad weather or mechanical errors, either way it was making Eric very nervous.

Standing up Eric ambled over to the window and peered out into the darkened night sky, scanning for any wing lights. Besides the illuminated loading platforms and the blue LED runway lights the skies and airstrips were devoid of light, aircraft or anything else. Eric was about to return to his bench when a distant red glimmer caught his eye, far off in the distance.

“Finally,” he muttered turning away from the window. Despite his impatience Eric felt a certain level of relief that nothing worse occurred mid transit, if that was indeed her flight. And Eric couldn’t imagine who else would be arriving at such an unholy hour. Sure enough after another twenty minutes or so a collection of yawning passengers, toting with them their carry-on bags descended the escalator and gathered around the luggage return. Others wandered over to the only open coffee service left in the airport to buy themselves a late night drink. Eric watched the small crowd disperse, looking for the visage of his niece Tonya Wisher. He’d seen her less than four months ago, and well-remembered her tearstained face at his sister and brother-in-law’s funeral. Tonya had then been shunted around between relatives and friends before at last being dropped into Eric’s custody. The paperwork was signed, the social service inspection complete, and the deed done well before a shocked and anti-social Eric could even take it all in. Normally Eric would’ve been aghast at the terrible idea of him being the legal guardian of a living, breathing child, but how could he say no to his recently orphaned niece?

“Tonya, over here.” Eric called, spotting her descending the escalator. She looked exhausted and disheveled and she rushed over to him, dropping her backpack and embracing his waist in a tight hug. For a moment Eric wasn’t sure what to do, standing perplexed before kneeling down and returning the embrace, patting her blonde hair and uttering an assuring, “Easy now, everything’s going to be alright. We’ll make it through this. We can make it through anything.”