@Andreyich A man in a dark blue suit slipped out of the bawdy crowd that made up the Shark Club, making his way over to Fred.
“Donna Regina’s days are numbered, friend,” he muttered, keeping his voice as little more than a whisper “you wanna make big bucks with those guns of yours? Come leng the Torres family as visit.”
@Sol Grim “For a pretty boy, like you?” the woman smirked, fluttering her long painted eyelashes “I reckon I can stoop to ninety caps. I warn you though, I’m rough in the sack.”
From over the prostitute’s shoulder, Breckinridge and Reeve continued their conversation.
“These rumours are all built upon some element of reality,” Breckenridge said simply “voodoo, and other such tribal customs, are no exception.”
“Hey, it's your caps, pal.” Reeve laughed.
“Do you have the map?” Breckenridge asked.
Reeve reached into his coat pocket, placing a smoothly folded piece of paper on the table.
“The Van Graff’s thank you for your generous contribution to the family fund.” Reeve said with a smirk, whilst Breckenridge slid the map into one of his pockets.
“That’ll be all,then,” He said with a nodded, making his way out of the bar “I’ve got to go pay some old friends a visit.”
Horus crouched down besides a large chunk of rock, watching the compound from his spot in the shadows.
He could see the cannibal raiders going about their business behind a barbed wire fence in a patch of artificial flood lights. Crates and barrels littered the wind-blasted earth, as well as the numerous bound up hostages which the raiders were keeping for reasons Horus would rather not think about.
Can’t be that hard to find Barnes, he reasoned
I don’t suppose they have many ghoul prisoners. Horus climbed out of his hiding place, quietly sliding down the sand-covered slope which led to the compound, and slipping into cover behind a rusted support beam.
A raider in thick metal plated armour came strolling past Horus’ spot.
The blade of a knife slipped out of Horus’ sleeve, and then he was wrapping one arm around the bandit’s mouth to muffle his cries, and planting his weapon in the soft flesh of his neck. Blood splattered the ghoul’s clothes, and the raider died quietly, covered in dust and sand.
His time spent in the sewers of LA after the bombs fell had taught Horus to be quick on his feet and to stick to the shadows, which he used to his advantage as he crept past a wooden sentry post, and into the compound itself.
The hostages sat inside a small pen, guarded by two raiders with stocky hunting rifles.
The raiders were well-armed and armoured, but they weren’t watching the shadows, and weren’t aware of Horus’ presence until it was too late.
The Ghoul picked a set of keys off of the corpse of one of the raiders, and made his way into the cramped little holding pen.
Most of the hostages looked as though they were on death’s door, and all of them were bruised or bloodied in some capacity. Many were missing limbs.
Horus found a dark-haired woman who looked to be the most conscious of the group, and cut off her gag.
“I’m looking for a ghoul called Barnes,” he said softly, crouching down in front of her “can you tell me where they’re keeping him?”
The young woman spat blood before he spoke.
“Barnes isn’t a prisoner here, he’s the fucking overseer. Esteves sent him out here to make sure that his dealings with those freaks from Oregon went smoothly.”
“Esteves is working with the cannibals..?” Horus asked slowly.
“Too fucking right,” she gave a hoarse, humourless laugh “every time someone comes round his way, asking questions, he sends them up here, tells them to look for Barnes.”
“And how do you know all of this?”
“I’m Darlia Lazzari.” said the girl.
“That’s enough outta you, sweetcheeks.” a voice called out of the darkness.
Horus leapt to his feet and whirled around, just in time to see a burly ghoul with machete come striding into the pen.
“Names Barnes, friend,” he grinned, pointing the sharp end of his weapon towards Horus “and I’m afraid you shan’t be leaving here, tonight.”
Horus paused.
Suddenly he was back with the Followers, on caravan runs between Shady Sands. He was out in the wastes, panting for breath, and covered in the blood of dead raiders.
“We’ll see.” he said.
In a flash, Horus bolted forwards, barreling into Barnes, and knocking him to the floor. The ghouls scrapped in the dirt, steel clashing against steel.
Barnes forced Horus off of him with a sharp kick, but Horus managed to duck below the machete swing that followed, slicing a sharp gash through Barnes’ rotten midriff with his knife.
The two men stood in the middle of the compound, mere feet away from each other.
Only one of them was making it away alive.
“Darlia,” Patrick Teach called out “as soon as you have an opening...RUN!”
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