Massasauga — Roleplayer Guild

Joy snored loudly as she laid in her sleeping bag. She couldn't help it after the long night she had been through. A harsh banging on the back door of the van drew her slowly out of her slumber with each instance until she finally woke up. She unzipped her bag and crawled over to the back door. A small pair of curtains kept the sun out and prying eyes. She slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes and holding her handgun. Slowly she drew the curtain to peek out to the outside. An older man with graying hair under a work cap and a matching beard was standing there. The groundskeeper of the junkyard. Slowly she opened it and peered out.

"What is it, Big Joe? You know what fuckin' time it is?"

"Yes, little lady, I do. I also know that some military types were on their way through here. Said they had rights to search fer squatters and whatnot."

"Military? Oh fuck..."

"You and I both know they ain't here fer the squatters."

"Big Joe..."

"Don't make nothin' of it. Git yerself together and make yerself scarce. I'll try to keep them out of this area as long as I can. Saw one of their big vehicles out front too."

"That makes thing difficult. They near the break in the fence?"

"Not yet, but they may be soon."

"Alright. Take it easy, Big Joe. I'll be around sometime."

With that info fresh in her mind, Joy quickly popped some caffeine pills and washed it down with some rainwater she had been collecting from her rain catcher in the sunroof. She threw her jacket, her belts, and all her pouches onto her person. She tore down everything that indicated the van had been lived in and threw it into her rucksack. Finally, she holstered her handgun and stepped out of the van, pulling her hood up. She gave Big Joe a quick hug goodbye before turning around and high-tailing it out.

The junkyard was a maze, truly, which was both a blessing and a curse. She needed to get out, but finding her way around parts unknown was harder than it looked. At least she knew if she was always heading at least some direction, she'd hit the fence eventually. So even though the soldiers were out and around, they weren't aware that she was moving out. They'd be taking their sweet time, trying to sneak up on her and hoping to catch her napping. Not now, though. No, this time she'd be gone before they knew she was ever there. At least, that's what she hoped. Getting around was difficult, and she had to climb over car piles a lot more than she found comfortable. They were unstable, and it made her nervous.

Just when she climbed up and took a few seconds to judge the distance she was from the fence, she heard metal creaking underneath her. Thinking fast, she jumped and hit the ground on a roll. The four-car tower became a three-car tower as a sedan slipped off the edge and crashed. That was going to draw attention, so Joy beat feet onto her goal, which was almost in sight. Voices from behind her only served to increase her speed until, finally and thankfully, she was able to slip out. For now, she was okay, but it wasn't going to be like that for long. She kept up her pace to head deeper into New York, keeping a lookout on a place to dive in and lay low. An apartment complex that looked like it had seen much better days in the past (and more residents), seemed like a good place to stop for now. She slipped in through the front door after making sure no one else was around and sighed.

Out of the frying pan, but not sure if the burner was lit. Joy drew her 1911 and clicked the safety off. Leaving it cocked didn't hurt it, so she hadn't messed with it after her encounter with Miro. Miro...well, at least he was good for one thing: he let her know just how well her disguise was working. Well...from the neck up anyway. She looked down. With the rucksack straps around her shoulders, she noticed her prominent mounds under her jacket. Great. She cursed herself for her natural bustiness and vowed to try binding herself down with some pressure bandages later on. At least, if she could. The first thing to do was to make sure no one was going to fuck with her in this building, if there was anyone to do so.

Slowly, but surely, she carefully made her first steps inside and began to clear out as much as she could see from the building. She knew to pie her corners, but she really wasn't wanting to try jiggling door handles. Her combat boots also made audible noise that was only slightly softer the slower she stepped. Well, at least if anyone else was here, they'd be wanting to get the hell out. Combat boots were usually worn by the government types, and spelled trouble. Joy prayed that anyone would get the hell out at the sound of her footsteps if they were here. It was just easier. And yet, sometimes things are never easy, nor do they usually turn out the way we want them to.
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