Thread: The Open Road(Amy Beth and Rivine)

RE The Open Road The hum of an engine was an odd thing to hear on the roads these days, but it practically surrounded Gabriel as he headed north along the road. He'd been out on the roads for a long, long while, and both he and his ATV had the scars to show it. It had been over a year since he'd set off on his own, fleeing a small settlement in the face of an assault by a group of raiders. It had not been the proudest of moments in his life, but he hadn't been part of the settlement really, not in his own mind. He was the only one there that didn't have someone to care about, did not have a family. He was the lone bachelor and, well, he'd been afraid. Gabe had been in the Army, which everyone knew, so they thought he'd be some great bolster to the defense. But he'd been a mechanic! How could they have expected him to become Rambo?! A soft sigh escaped his lips as he shook his head. He knew that he should not dwell on the past so much. It had been a long while and, for as far as he knew, the people had come through things fine. But lately it had been coming up more and more. He'd found himself thinking about it night after night, causing him to stay awake even longer. But why was he thinking about it so much? Well if he knew the answer to that the he could solve the issue of course, but frankly he lacked any idea at the moment. His mind was pulled back to reality as the sound of the engine changed. He glanced down, looking to the fuel gauge, then growled, Great. He glanced around on the road, looking for a place to park the ATV so it wouldn't be as noticeable. He caught sight of a jackknifed semi, so he pulled the ATV up in the angle between the trailer and the truck. It wasn't the best of places, but it would certainly do for the time being. After the vehicle was parked he hopped off, pulling the key out of the ignition and clipping the carabiner it was on onto his belt. Gabe's clothes were a bit worse for wear his pants were grease stained, Carhartt jacket torn, t-shirt nearly worn though. It was hard these days to find clothes that had not been ruined by the elements, which was clear enough by what he wore. So clothing was certainly something he was looking for, but first things first, he needed fuel. With that in mind he moved around to the front of the ATV and opened the metal storage box that was there. Inside of it were a myriad of things, ranging from tools, to lubricants, oil, and, perhaps most important, a hand pump for gas as well as a small bladder. Taking the two out of the box he closed it up again and locked it, then moved to the back of the vehicle. There, from under a tarp he had tied tightly to the metal wrack, he removed his daypack , putting the bladder and pump into the main pocket. Already the other pockets were filled with a bit of food, an emergency blanket, first aid kit, water filter and a few other bits of supplies. Slinging the backpack onto his shoulders he tightened it down, then check the items he carried on his belt. Knife, he murmured as his fingers drifted over the handle, then said, Pistol, he finished, touching the grip of the SIG at his side. Having checked everything he moved off, but paused a few feet from the ATV. He glanced back at it, then reached back to the small of his back, pulling a pair of work gloves out of his belt, slipping them on. He move off then to a few of the cars and began to pull out seats and other detritus, throwing it on the ATV and around it camouflaging it as best he could. That done he headed out, leaving the gloves on for the time being. He began to walk along the road, checking a few cars as he went, but he was not at all surprised when all of them had already been drained dry. So he walked on, his eyes constantly scanning the area around himself. It was that attentiveness that allowed him to notice the motion in a parking lot off to the left of the freeway. He paused, moving behind a car and watched. It took him a moment to figure out what was happening, but soon enough he realized that a woman was being chased by three others, three men to be precise, who looked to have ill intentions. He dropped lower behind the car, watching as he murmured to himself, It's not your business. He repeated that in his mind over and over. But there it was, the memory of how he had abandoned the settlement. He remained there, watching, observing as she was chased down. No, he could not do it, he could no turn away. So, Gabe found himself slipping his pack from his back, stowing it in the trunk of a red vehicle. It would be safe enough there for now... and if he didn't come back for it it did not matter too much. He took a moment to raw his pistol and ejected the magazine, glancing at it and counting the bullets he had. Seven... well there better be no more then three, he muttered to himself. As he slid the magazine back into the pistol and made his way down the embankment, towards the parking lot... but he had the small issue of a chain link fence to get by first. Moving quickly he went to the ground, pushing the fence up as he crawled underneath it. By the time he was on the other side the three men had her and were ripping at her clothes. Having a few cars between himself and them he stood, moving slowly. He worked his way around the cars, holding the pistol low, until he had a clear line of sight. He paused, then raised the gun and gently squeeze the trigger. Crack! The sound of a gunshot echoed as one of the men dropped, blood spurting from a wound in his neck. Alright! You others, back away! Touch the lady again and I'll end you both...