Logs: Vampire Activity

Logs: Vampire Activity
Dramatis Personae Skip, Andrew with Ruin as ST	2015.06.29 A four man party from the Community is sent out to check the welfare of refuges who are late arriving.
Location Outside of Safe Haven
Questionable "Safe" Campground June 29th, 2015 45 miles Northeast of the Safe Zone, on the coast xxxxxWord spread from a trio of people who had safely made it into Safe Haven from the North, who reportedly came this way from a settlement that remained in what used to be Canada. The travelers said that they had been taken in over night by a family of four who were surviving in a sheltering-in-place small camp and scavenging in the vicinity of the camp they had established. Those that brought word said that the people there, at least eight adults and teenagers, had been advised to accompany the trio who were heading on to Safe Haven, they had been drawn towards Safe Haven by radio contact, themselves. Those at the camp said that they would follow, rather than walk off and leave things they would prepare their camp and come in the next few days behind the travelers. After three days and hearing no word of their arrival, the travelers expressed concerns to the town guard about what might have happened to them. With all of the recent dangers, and with the importance of every human life, the community asked for volunteers to travel along the coast and look for the campers to see if they could be found. xxxxxA vehicle was cleared for those who were traveling to use, something suitable for off-road conditions but the majority of the trip. The pavement is demolished, it's not much of a smooth and enjoyable ride any longer. xxxxxAs the HMMVW crosses the broken and shattered landscape, Andrew surveys the land around them while Skip drives. He's got the intercom on, and he works to direct them over the less broken path as best as he can, given the height advantage of the gunner's turret. Andrew scans the area around them, the 50 cal pointing wherever he is looking. "Skip...how you doing down there. I don't see any sign of anyone yet. May be in for a long amount of searching...we'll likely need to switch out in a bit. Get a fresh set of eyes up here to see..." xxxxxSkip's response takes a moment. He has to collect his human wits, as he's been zenning the drive, honed in on the greenery to either side and the rough breaks on the rural route that was never exactly the best quality in the first place. "All good, LT." He responds over the comms. There is a tension in his voice, a subtle one. He's along to play the Medic... but the hunter within him is straining. Vampires -- worthy prey, and the lunar cycle is edging toward his moon. Is a factor of discipline to focus on the road in the now and not think about the splash of stolen blood, the rending of dead flesh, the cracking of old bone. xxxxxBouncing along within the vehicle themselves, George Bane and Bill Tyler are watchful out each side while Skip is focused upon driving. They are both in their early twenties, one having been in the Navy (home on shore leave to visit family) and the other a rookie cop at the time of the End of the World, they fell in pretty easily with the community's security team but they have stuck pretty close to the safe zone. When volunteers were looked for to accompany the recently promoted Lt, they volunteered quickly. xxxxxIt's around a bend and over a slight hill that the first signs of a possible camp can be seen. There is, in the distance, a whisp of grey-white smoke that is coming from above some trees. Somewhere in the middle of those trees is a lake, according to the map, it might seem reasonable for a group to make camp near a freshwater source. But the smoke is faint, like it might come from one or two campfires. xxxxxAndrew notices the smoke, "OK Skip..I've got smoke at our one o'clock, it seems....white smoke, likely from a fire with a clean fuel source, and not trash or anything like that....I'd rather have some of us dismounted to recon it before we go rolling up in the Hummer...We can pull the vehicle off the road, camoflague it, and proceed on foot. Once we locate the campers, we can move back to the vehicle...Good with that? Bill...George...you gents ready to earn your keep? Hope you got your game faces on!" xxxxxSkip decelerates as soon as he sees the smoke, not hard so that it jostles people, until the come to a rolling stop. Andrew's directives, cause him to look from side to side, then he considers the view in the side mirrors, and he shifts gears and reverses them slowly, back around the bend and then he makes a three point turn so the front of the humvee is pointed back the way they came. That done, he pulls off the road onto the shoulder, turning the wheels to prevent rollout, and then setting the parking brake. He slips out of the driver's seat to go and fetch the camouflage webbing in the aft storage compartment. xxxxxAs soon as Andrew makes reference to the smoke, the attention of both men turning that way and responding to Andrew's question with a nearly unison, "Yes, Sir." as they watch Skip manuver the vehicle into a position to park and leave it. There is a quick check of gear on the part of George before they, likewise, emerge from the vehicle to help put the camouflage into place and hide the humvee. xxxxxOnce outside, with the vehicle shut off, it is very silent without much in the way of noise from anything except for the wind moving through the trees and the sounds made by the men themselves. xxxxxAndrew quickly assists in camoflauging the Hummer, and then pulls everyone off into the woods. He stops, indicating to take 5. He removes his helmet, sitting perfectly still, concentrating on listening to the birds and wildlife...that way, he'll know when there is trouble when they stop making noise. Five minutes is all it takes, and then he sips some water, looking at Skip. "Ready to head out, Chief? Bill...George...let's get it on." He hoists his 3 day pack and slides it on his back, securing it down. xxxxxSkip grunts an assent. His gear load is large and unwieldy looking, but for all of that he lifts it like its made of nerf foam, and it does nothing to offset his movement -- be it slinking in the foilage or bursting between cover points as they move forward. The saw-off 12 gauge shotgun in the swiftdraw holstering on the side of the pack is left there, as he advances he clutches a titanium lacrosse stick. He stays within visual range of the team, and within the bounds of advance that Andrew directs. Careful, quiet, almost predatory. xxxxxThere is an echo of that affirmative, both men are ready to go after their own check and recheck of gear, moving into a formation to proceed with one to the left and one to the right. They begin to travel across the roadway and towards the treeline, in the direction of the smoke. A considerable way up the road there is a road sign just visible, fading and overgrown itself, that marks the end of a driveway that declares it even leads towards the lake. xxxxxNothing really hinders the group's movement towards what can only be assumed is the campsite, except for the overgrowth of weeds and brush, but there is a noticable walking path that might suggest that regular foot traffic must move through. And there are spots in the mud where horsetracks can be picked out, as can a few tracks from humans. xxxxxAndrew stops, kneeling down at the sight of horse tracks. He looks, running his hand around the edges, trying to get a read, as well as a direction of travel. He looks around the area as well, wary for other signs such as the bladecats, which leave distinct looking tracks. Also wary of human ambushes and traps, he stands, "Well...let's go check out the farm. Single line movement folks...I don't know if they've left any receiving gifts for us. Would hate to have a stolen claymore be detonated in our direction...." xxxxxWithout making conversation about it, Skip falls back to the drag position as they converge to single line formation. His eyes stray upward as well as swivviling to and fro, and definitely to the rear to make sure nothing is creeping up behind them. xxxxxBill and George fall in, Bill moving up to point, George at the rear of the group as they begin to move in the direction indicated by the Lt. The wind blows away from the group, to the West, giving a strong scent of the ocean in the distance, the scent of rotting vegetation and fish, but not of anything from the region being approached. The passage across the ditch is the easiest part of traveling, manuvering over an old culvert that has filled in with overflow and overgrown weeds it is surprisingly sturdy to stand on. Once over the brush that is traveled through becomes little more than overgrown grasses and weeds that can be pushed out of the way with a sweep of a tool (or Lacross stick, where it applies). The walking is slow, but progress is made so that as the group have traveled about half a mile through the grass they have arrived at the first line of thin trees. To the north of their approach the grasses are a little thinner, and just above the line of the brush and weeds is the top portion of a black box truck that is parked, facing away from the lake and back towards the main road in a fashion that is no unlike what Skip did with their own vehicle. There are, in the distance, the sounds of low voices speaking - two, males, for those with particularly sensitive hearing. The wind shifts then, just as they arrive at the trees, blowing towards them briefly before it shifts back as it was. xxxxxAndrew holds up his hand, fist clenched in an "Immediate halt" gesture. He then motions everyone to go to ground, touching his ear first in the universal sign of "Listen". His own FN SCAR is trained toward the source of the sound as he lies prone in the tree line, scanning as best as he can without moving, weapon in front of him ready for action. xxxxxSkip goes down, not dropping -- which would be noisy, but sinking quickly and silently until he is prone in the grass. He tilts his head so he can pick up sound better, willing his heart to slow down and his body to refrain from releasing adrenaline. Not yet. Soon maybe. He clenches his hands on the lacrosse stick and releases. xxxxxIn the distance, two men are in very quiet conversation about nothing that is at all important. They talk, chat really, in a fashion that isn't unlike the chat that members of the city watch engage in while they are waiting for their shift to be over. There are only two voices to be heard. At one point, while the men crouch listening there is a reference to what time they will be heading out, the other indicating mid-afternoon to time their arrival home "just right". As this casual talk occures, off in the distance there is fleeting sound, a quiet whimper of something or someone suffering perhaps. xxxxxSkip moves closer to Andrew, patting his arm to get his attention. "I smell blood... piss... gunshot residue. Trust me on this, I've smelled this sort of thing alot. A fight went down here. Recently. Those guys -- I think they are Bangites, not the refugees." All this barely above a whisper, avoiding any hard S sounds by lisping in the place of that. Andrew nods, whispering quietly, "I'll take your word for it. We need to get some eyes on...we can work our way around the campsite, locate any friendlies, and tag any hostiles for..neutralization. Sounds like they're working on a time table. I plan on throwing a wrench into that. We'll move back about 75 yards, and then start to circle around, moving low in the field." xxxxxThe decision made, Skip retreats with the rest of the team so they can circle and further ascertain the layout before exposing their presence. xxxxxAndrew moves quietly for a big man, his eyes on a swivel. He's normally pretty perceptive, until now. There is a slight ditch..only a foot so deep. More like a small hill. Andrew finds it by tripping and body surfing down it. Fortunately, it doesn't make a lot of noise. Unfortunately, it does make noise. He freezes, mouthing the words "Fuck..." He stays still and listens. xxxxxWhen Andrew goes down, skip moves to the edge of the of the decline and he crouches down, offering the bagless end of the lacrosse stick toward Andrew while he other hand reaches over his shoulder and pulls the shotgun out and levels it back toward the direction they saw the men talking. As both activities are executed with the same level of confident smoothness, it is readily apparent the blonde medico is ambidextrous. His eyes are narrowed now, toward the direction he has the weapon pointed. xxxxxAs the group starts to move, Bill and George follow after Andrew and Skip each. George has no troubles at all, but Bill finds his foot catching on a clump of weeds and he partially falls trying to catch himself and not make noise which results in a good deal of weeds rustling. There might be some hope that those on watch don't hear, but something catches their attention because all sounds of that quiet talking stop and there is complete silence from beyond the weeds as the two men there begin to scan their surroundings, not positive where the threat comes from but both believing that they had heard something. xxxxxAndrew gets to his feet in a crouched position as quietly as he can, his left hand in the "Freeze" position for a few moments, his eyes trained on the direction that the voices were heard coming from. You aren't carrying anything. You have 150 Pennies. xxxxxSeveral minutes stretch on that are spent with the small group "frozen" in their places, waiting for the sounds of the alert that possibly sounded being relaxed. It takes some time, and it isn't helped by Bill loosing his balance and electing to simply take a seat on the ground with twigs and brush crunching beneath him in a somewhat muted manner. Eventually there is once more the sound of quiet talking, hesitantly as though they were waiting for something to reveal itself but then it returns to the way that it was when the men snuck in initially. xxxxxAfter they have resumed moving again and gotten more opportunity to take in the camp, Skip moves up closer to Andrew to get his attention and he hunkers down. He holds up three fingers, then he juts his finger into the dirt and gross disroots as he moves to make a circle. He says, "Three captives tied up at the tree here." He stabs his finger into the ground in the circle. "Two combatants here, at the table, playing cards." He jabs his finger into the ground again to show where. "The box truck is here -- its closed up -- I think they have a Vampire inside, that's why it’s sealed against the light and they are hanging around." He jabs his finger in the earth again. "The tents are camouflaged -- the kids may be in there, or they may be in the van. The laundry line is still loaded, it could mask an approach from that direction." He rubs his chin. "We could take down the two playing cards quietly -- and maybe release and move the three tied up -- but after that, it’s sketchy as we don't know who is in the tents or the vehicle." He then adds, "And of course, you have to decide if you want to question them -- or just take them out and question the prisoners instead." xxxxxThis all very low, again with lisps to avoid the hard sounds that hiss and carry. xxxxxAndrew nods, looking to Skip. He certainly looks like he has questions for a moment, then shakes his head, "OK..." he whispers. "You'll have to explain how you came across this...information. Certainly hope you aren't one of those...Mages." He suppresses an involuntary shudder, and then inhales quietly, "OK...I want to leave at least one prisoner alive to question. Two would be better, but one at a minimum. I've never tangled with a bloodsucker...at least that I recall, so...this should be interesting. They don't like silver bullets, do they?" He studies the ground map, and then identifies some terrain features back, such as the woodline, "When this goes down, things go sideways, make for the treeline...there." He says, pointing at a large beech tree, "That'll be where we rally if need be. If we're successful...Bill, George...I want you to immediately take perimeter security. One of you watching the road down here, the other 180 degrees opposite, watching for things coming in from the rear." xxxxxSkip tilts his head and looks Andrew's direction askance, mouthing the word "mages" with a questioning expression. What he says in response is, "Hey El-Tee, I was a paramedic in gang territory in B-More before the world spiraled out -- and I was a paramedic during the apocalypse. And I survived. Then I made it through two years outside the safe zone heading down to what was left of Florida, then back up the shattered coast to here. Cannibals, zombies, giant eyes with tentacles, serial killers, ravagers -- you live through all that by paying attention to small details. I can hear the buzz of conversation and the flipping of cards -- I can see the people by the trees, I can guess that a vampire has to be hidden in the daytime and pick the mostly likely spot for that -- and I can remember how many people the guy said we should be looking for and see that some are accounted for. Its not a magic trick -- its just survival." He rolls his bulky shoulders, looks back at the other two watchmen then moves with the group in complience with Andrew's instructions. xxxxxAndrew nods, listening to the young Paramedic's explanation. He's silent for a moment, taking the opportunity to study the young man, and then nods once more, with finality, "Good enough, then," he says in response. He glances down at the sandmap that Skip had drawn out, mulling over it. "We'll approach from the cover of the laundry line. Be cognizant of booby traps or other noisemakers...they might have the foresight to set something up. If we can take out out the two playing cards, let's do that. We'll sweep and clear the entire battlefield before I want to release the prisoners...they might inadvertantly reveal our location, or get in the way of any sort of operation. How's that sound to you?" He looks to Skip. xxxxxSkip nods. Pauses, "Disable and restrain or are we killing them?" There is not expression that shows a preference on the medical student's mind -- apparently "Do No Harm" only applies to medicinal methods, not camp raiding. xxxxxAndrew draws his lips taut as he considers the ramifications of his decision. "Disable if at all possible, but do not hesitate to end them if they elect to resist. Stealth is of the essence..." He looks to the grey skies above, "I'd rather not tangle with a vampire if I don't have to...heard too many stories about them." xxxxxAs the men talk quietly between themselves, establishing their plan for proceeding, the two men who play cards continue to do so while gradually resuming their casual conversation that was taking place. Things in the campground have fallen quiet again, not even another moan is heard from the tied up survivors. xxxxxSkip holds up a finger, and quietly wrangles his pack off of his shoulders. He pulls up the flap, loosens the cord, and then digs inside. When he pulls his hand out, he has a bundle of fire-blacked but tooled smooth wooden stakes. The handle portion has been beveled to create a grip with a pommel and guard, and the grip itself has been padded with repurposed radial tire. The pommel has a cloth ribbon, which can be used to wrap around the wrist to prevent easy disarming. xxxxxSkip unties the bundle, offering a stake to each person and explaining. "So let us say they are dead -- then vampires aren't going to react to getting shot or cut like we do. Just like zombies -- headshots to put them down, center mass to push them back, knees to tilt them over. They won't stay that way -- so the best option is one shoots to put them down and the other stakes them. Going through the ribcage is very, very hard -- you have to hit true, and crack bone -- its not easy. If one of you hits the heart and the thing is still moving, a butt stroke to hammer it in may be needed. That said -- you can also go in through the back if you go in between the 3rd and 5th rib -- but these are long enough that you can stab upward, through the abdomen here -- " he points it out on himself "and bypass the ribcage completely. Maybe this won't come up -- but I made them anyway." This all said, he closes up his pack and puts it back on, waiting the go order. xxxxxAs they are making their approach, Skip catches a small mote of light out of the corner of his eye and he signals a stop. Shimming closer, low and slow he reaches the concealed string of cans that is part of a larger system of perimeter warning. After sorting out a path through, which he points out to the watchmen, he moves inward himself, and lifts open a gap between strands so the others can pass through. Its as he is moving through himself that his pack catches a can and rattles a warning to the camp. At this point, there is no more stealth, and Skip demonstrates the speed he presented as a collegiate athlete, closing the distance between himself and the card table with heart-stopping alacrity, his charge ending with the kinetic force delivered through the brass knuckles on his fist at the end of his spirit charged limbs and crashing against the skull of his target so hard it sends the man out his chair, down hard toward the ground, bone, blood and teeth showering along the same course like the detrius of a comet's passage. xxxxxAndrew makes his way through the perimeter, nearly stepping into a concealed line of cans before Skip points it out to him. He steps over the line of noisemakers, moving forward quietly. When Skip hits the line of cans with his pack and then takes off like a bolt, Andrew follows suit, targeting the second card player. The larger, much slower man directs a punch down onto the man with nowhere near the same force or ferocity as the young Paramedic. In fact, it seems to have little effect on the man. xxxxxThere's a moment of hesitation on George's face as the alarm sounds from the can string that Skip lifts up, an eyes widened 'Oh Shit' moment where he's looking towards Andrew for an okay to proceed, but he pulls himself out of it a second later and ducks beneath the string to rush forward initially on Bill's tail and then veering off as the other goes towards the driveway to keep watch, not quite approaching the box truck, and then George turns to face the opposite direction to keep watch. The men who are rushed at the table are taken by surprise, one getting to his feet at the moment that he's bull rushed and then knocked on his ass into unconsciousness after what was likely a flash of pain. The other man sort of gape in shock as his fellow goes down and then he finds himself punched in the face and surrounded by four men with guns. Close up, the man who is still conscious looks like he might be in his late teens and fairly well fed for there being an apocalypse going on. xxxxxSeeing Andrew has the other card player under control, Skip doesn't reach out to grab his head and bounce it off the table like a ball. Instead he decends down to one knee to pin the man he struck down and zip ties his hands behind his back before starting the first-aid he clearly needs. This requires the aid-bag to be unshouldered and supplies to be accessed, Skip focuses on that -- his experience allowing him to work and stay alert to sudden reverses of fortune at the same time. xxxxxAndrew sinks to one knee next to the conscious man, and lays his huge left hand on the man's throat, holding him down but not constricting the man's ability to talk. His other hand goes down to retrieve the Glock 45 in the tactical right thigh-drop holster, the weapon coming out and being pushed into the man's pelvis. "How many combatants are here in this camp?" He growls out to the man, "If I think you're lying, I'm going to shoot you in the pelvis. This is a .45 caliber handgun. It'll turn your lower pelvis, including the dangly bits, to fuckin' hamburger at this range. It'll be a long, slow, agonizing death. And we'll let you bleed out here. Maybe you'll get lucky and some of the 'shredders will get to you before you get real bad...but maybe they won't. Your choice hero." xxxxxAs Andrew sinks down in front of the young man, the man's eyes widen, but no more so when his giant hand goes to his throat. There's a visible 'gulp' as the man's Adam's apple works beneath Andrew's hand and he attempts to be casual though he looks a bit pale. "Combatants... Did you just kill him?" His eyes strain to see where his companion is who went down beneath Skip's tackle but then he's looking back at Andrew. "Mister it looks like you guys are the combatants here... There's just us guys here, playing cards, these people are looters who robbed us, we detained them... took back what was ours..." As he's talking, the smaller framed man is starting to sweat and he's clearly not telling the truth. xxxxxAt their respective ends of the campgrounds, Bill and George keeps watch in complete silence, not even looking back at what is going on behind them. xxxxxSkip grunts something that may be "bullshit" under his breath as he continues to assess just how badly he injured the man he took down. Usually, the first blow to the head is "free" as in, it doesn't bleed -- but this is already a mess, blood from the torn face and pressure tears on the side of the head into the hairline -- so in addition to the laceration, multiple fractures are suggested and Skip has to be wary of a breathing obstruction, since he isn't putting his fingers into the guy's mouth to clear the airway unless breathing actually stops. xxxxxAndrew sighs, heavily, "I'm sorry that you chose that route, hero." His left hand contracts around the man's throat, cutting off air and his abilility to scream while his finger caresses the trigger as he shoves the Glock hard into the man's pelvis, just above the pelvic bulge. The .45 Glock discharges, the report somewhat deadened by the contact with the man's body. The hollowpoint round does as it was designed to, immediately mushrooming out upon hitting and tearing flesh, pulping muscle, and destroying pelvic girdle in one single second. The man's lower pelvis is hamburger. "Now then. You see I'm a man of my word. And my paramedic friend here will take care of your friend the best he can. We'll take care of your master in the box van..." He glances over to the van, "Hell...we may drive off in it. Looks to be a fairly nice ride." He releases the man's the throat, pushing him hard against the ground as he rises. xxxxxThe man who just experienced the bullet wound screams out in pain, a raw and rough sound as he collapses back onto the ground and the screaming continues. It's briefly, momentarily, got a positively wrong-sounding giggle in it as the man seems to teeter towards going unconscious from the blood loss, damage and pain. xxxxxAndrew clamps down on the man's throat much harder, strangling from him taking in any breaths, removing any ability for him to make any real sound. "As I was just saying, I'm an honorable man. I'll give your friend..." He glances over to Skip as he talks, "the same choice that I gave you, should he live. Again, my friend here is a damn fine paramedic...the finest I've seen, in fact. I'm pretty sure that he'd say you're a wash, and not to waste valuable medical supplies on you. The wound you have is...nasty. The bullet penetrated the lower intestine as well as upper intestine..you can see this black blood here...If the blood loss won't kill you, the septic shock most assuredly will. Oh, mind you it won't be quick, nor painless..." He release the man's throat so that he can breath a bit. xxxxxSkip doesn't hide the shock he feels when Andrew summarily discharges his weapon into the captive, his head jerks toward Andrew sharply, eyes probing as if trying to determine if the man is simply a ruthlessly dedicated man of his word, or a complete sociopath. The answer he reaches must be inferred by him saying nothing, but turning back to his patient, though the off giggle the man just shot makes does cause a wary raising of his metaphorical hackles. xxxxxAs Andrew's hand clamps on his throat the ghoul stills and stares up at Andrew with a look that holds a great deal of pain, but it's too watchful - too calculated to be truly afraid of the things that the man standing over him is saying while he stares. Gradually he seems to bleed out, however, the look in his eyes going a little vacant. xxxxxSkip shakes his head once. "Uh, uh, fuck that. Take his head, just to be sure." xxxxxAndrew nods once. He grabs the tactical tomahawk from his quick release carrier, and withdraws his left hand. He spins the tactical axe up and over, bringing it down into a lethal cutting stroke across the bleeding out man's neck. The razor sharp stainless steel blade, propelled by the Lieutenant's massive strength, cleaves through bone and tissue, spraying blood from severed veins in an area. Andrew follows up with another chop, totally removing the man's head from his body. He wipes the blade off on the dead man's clothes before turning to face Skip. Hands busy working, Skip can't wipe the collatoral splatter off his face from Andrew's chopping, but he does offer as an explanation, "No specific reason, El-Tee, I just got a hinky vibe, and after all the zombies, I don't fuck around anymore. Corpse gives me a vibe, I take its fucking head, just to be sure." xxxxxThe body that gets it's head removed lurches and begins to spasm as though there was still some life left in it that was totally snuffed out by the axe through the throat. But the camp, in that second, falls silent except for the noises made by the men who are holding watch and the two talking over bodies. But then, that makes the distant sounds stand out, the quiet moans from captives tied together under the tree, and then something that sounds similar in one of the tents. And from the box truck's back end, the sound of quiet, threatening growling like a canine might make. xxxxxAndrew nods, "You'll get no static from me about that, Doc. I saw enough of this...shit when I went walkabout a few months ago to understand that they..." He indicates the deceased man, "Aren't all human. And yes...better safe than sorry." He looks toward the van, his head cocked slightly. He sheathes the tomahawk and gathers his FN SCAR, "Well...it seems that our host is awake, and eager to dance." xxxxx"I'll keep working to stablize this guy here right up to the point that whatever that is in the tent comes out, or from the back of truck. It sounds like there is a wolf or a dog or such inside the truck. I expect when the door opens, it leaps out. Maybe check the tent out first?" He sets his shotgun down beside himself, to illustrate he will shoot at anything that comes for Andrew if necessary, but he puts his red-slick non-latex gloves back to work. You want sterile technique? Don't work for a fucking vampire. P. 17 in the Don't be an Asshole in the Apocalypse Handbook. xxxxxAndrew nods, "I'll check out the tent, move around if I can to cut free the captives. If Bozo Jack-in-the-Box pops out of that truck, we can engage him from two different directions...a crossfire, if you will. Just be mindful of who is on the other side of him...If you need something, scream loud." The tall, powerfully built man offers the younger LaCrosse player an amused smile, and begins to thread his way toward the tent, stopping to direct the closest of the two Guardsmen to change position to cover Skip while he works. He moves toward the tent, that done, keeping a sharp lookout for trouble. xxxxxBob and George give wary looks at the box truck, and glance over their shoulders towards Andrew to nod and signal their understanding of what the LT is doing. xxxxxAndrew nods, "I'll check out the tent, move around if I can to cut free the captives. If Bozo Jack-in-the-Box pops out of that truck, we can engage him from two different directions...a crossfire, if you will. Just be mindful of who is on the other side of him...If you need something, scream loud." The tall, powerfully built man offers the younger LaCrosse player an amused smile, and begins to thread his way toward the tent, stopping to direct the closest of the two Guardsmen to change position to cover Skip while he works. He moves toward the tent, that done, keeping a sharp lookout for trouble. He crosses into the tent and frowns, "Damn...butchers." He moves to the young girl, checking her pulse and noting that while it's present, it's weak. He quickly takes his poncho cover and opens it up, laying it across her lower body, "You're going to be fine, ma'am. We're going to deal with the individuals that did this to you." He glances toward the direction of Skip, "Doc...got a brutalized female here. Looks like Cleetus and Jim-Bob out there had their way with her. Pulse is thready, but present." He glances to the box van, "I'm going to carve out that fucker's heart with a toothpick..." It's apparent that the giant of a man is now....pissed. "George...need you to defend this tent. Got an innocent in here." With one final look to the girl, he says, "I've got a friend that is going to make sure nothing happens to you while we take care of business here. Once we're done there, we'll get you back to Safe Haven. I promise." He stays with the girl until George arrives, "Take a position behind cover as best as you can close here, and be prepared to defend this area from that..thing." He jerks his head toward the box trailer. xxxxxWhen he's summoned, George moves across the lot to stand where indicated though just from what he's told he does seem reluctant to look into the tent and willing to take what he is said at point. He takes up a defensive position, scanning the surrounding area while he waits there. Bill stays across the way, where he was, though now trying to keep watching in both directions. xxxxxSkip calls out a "Roger" when he is updated about the woman, he finishes his work at present. Once he is satisfied that he has stablized his patient, he undoes the subjects pant, and snakes a zip tie around his extracted testicles before putting the anatomy back in the pants. This zip tie is looped across the fellow's pants with clamp connector line to the tie holding his hands together --he if struggles to get free, he'll be wracking his own nads or worse. This down, he is rolled back to his stomach with his face turned. Skip puts the medical bag back on his back -- its not safe to leave things around for later retrieval he has learned, and picks up his shot-gun, which he reholsters. xxxxxHe moves closer the back of the box truck and eyes it. Then he looks toward Andrew. He points at the truck door, points at Andrew, making a Opening gesture. He mimics with his hand him standing further back, in plain view in the open, and the animal inside potentially bounding out at him -- he indicates smacking same with his titanium lacrosse stick and Andrew covering/shooting what else may be inside with the other guard covering the other flank of the truck. Then he tilts his head, as if asking a question or waiting for an alternative. xxxxxThe pantomimed actions gives Andrew pause for a moment, before his feature break into a smile. He nods, mouthing the words "Bash its fucking head in" to the young man. He lets the FN SCAR drop, its three point tactical sling allowing it to slip down and into a ready position behind the big man, and then he once again reaches for the Glock 21 auto. Keeping the weapon close to his body, he approaches the door from the side so that he can use the door as a shield when he opens it. Provided he makes it to position, he looks to Skip and flashes the "OK" sign. xxxxxSkip flashes his teeth, grimly but confident, his off hand holding up three fingers and then counting down silently as he readies the backswing of the metal stick and adopts a stance very suggestive of a baseball batter waiting for the pitch. xxxxxAs the medic begins counting down, Andrew lays his left hand lightly on the door's handle, ready to open in. He blades his body, gun side away from the door, the Glock in his right hand moving to a position so that his hand that holds it is against his chest wall, making the weapon a small as target as possible but still allowing him to fire without damage to himself. As the count reaches two, the giant of a man relaxes visibly, the tension flowing away like water from him. At the count of one, he leans forward, shifting the weight to his front leg. And then he's opening the door, right in time with the young medic's count down. He takes a single step back as he opens the door, his left arm going up so that if he needs shoot he won't hit himself. Weight shifts almost visibly to both legs evenly, and he's ready to engage. xxxxxAs the van's door is opened, within is dark as to be expected where there is no windows. There are clinking sounds from within, and the single growl that was heard becomes two voices that repeat the same angry warning that cuts off with a short huff that indicates to attack. Both wolves are first visible as glinting light reflects in their eyes while they prepare to lunge forward from the dark. xxxxxAs the door opens and the pairs of eyes slink forward in prepartion to move, Skip's lip curls up and he growls menacingly from the back of his throat. The wolves, attuned to different things than human, can sense the wolf in the man across from them. The *Alpha* wolf, and also, something deeper -- the Destroyer Wolf himself, Fenris-Ur... and blood bound loyals not withstanding, it is their turn to know fear.... xxxxxAs Andrew steps back, the flash of fur streaks by quickly. Not quickly enough, however. At this range and with his level of skill, Andrew turns slightly and pulls the trigger. The 230 grain copper-jacketed round rips into the flank of the wolf, shattering bone and pulping internal organs as the creature passes. It's not enough to bring the creature down, but it does suddenly yelp, the sound nearly drown out in the cacophony of the weapon's unsupressed discharge. xxxxxAcross the yard, George tenses where he is crouched in front of the tent but he doesn't move. Bill does as well, turning to take aim at the wolves but he doesn't fire - he tracks but keeps his weapon at the ready in case there is something else emerging from the truck, or coming from another direction. xxxxxAs the wolves leap from the truck, their initial intention is to launch themselves as the intruders with a feral assault. Instead they find themselves faced by the spirit of a wolf within a man, and a hail of bullets strikes the wolf who lead the charge out the doors when they were opened. The wolf struck yelps in clear pain, the gunfire is a sound they have experience with perhaps or it is simply something that they are unwilling to face. Both wolves beeline, as soon as they clear the jump from the truck, heading towards the treeline and away from the armed men. The one that is hurt is slower, limping as it scrambles for the cover of the trees, they don't seem to want to stay. xxxxxNothing more comes from the box truck, the interior, when there is light shown inside of it, reveals there to be shackles along the sturdy walls of the storage compartment, low positioned for passengers to be seated, and bench-like seating within. A cage-like structure at the far end of the compartment is large enough that it would hold both of the wolves that just ran. xxxxxAndrew looks to the retreating wolves, then says to George and Bob, "Watch our flanks...stay frosty. I don't want those wolves to hit us from behind or the sides...you see one of the wolves, shoot it. Doc..check out that girl in the tent, get her ready for transport. I'll get the rest of the captives, and then we'll head back to Safe Haven." xxxxxAs the wolves leap from the truck, their initial intention is to launch themselves as the intruders with a feral assault. Instead they find themselves faced by the spirit of a wolf within a man, and a hail of bullets strikes the wolf who lead the charge out the doors when they were opened. The wolf struck yelps in clear pain, the gunfire is a sound they have experience with perhaps or it is simply something that they are unwilling to face. Both wolves beeline, as soon as they clear the jump from the truck, heading towards the treeline and away from the armed men. The one that is hurt is slower, limping as it scrambles for the cover of the trees, they don't seem to want to stay. xxxxxNothing more comes from the box truck, the interior, when there is light shown inside of it, reveals there to be shackles along the sturdy walls of the storage compartment, low positioned for passengers to be seated, and bench-like seating within. A cage-like structure at the far end of the compartment is large enough that it would hold both of the wolves that just ran. xxxxxAndrew looks to the retreating wolves, then says to George and Bob, "Watch our flanks...stay frosty. I don't want those wolves to hit us from behind or the sides...you see one of the wolves, shoot it. Doc..check out that girl in the tent, get her ready for transport. I'll get the rest of the captives, and then we'll head back to Safe Haven." xxxxxSkip looks after the direction the wolves have gone, then he moves closer to the truck, inspecting the back. He makes a hmph sound. "Hell hounds... they are going to retreat but not too far, they'll come back closer to sunset when their master is going to make his appearance, if we're still around. At least, that is my guess from watching The Lost Boys and shit like that." He raps the truck with his knuckles, and talks as he heads for the tent. "The vampire is still here. Only thing that makes sense. They are waiting for him to come back so they can bail -- otherwise, considering they got a truck, not reason to hang around here. I thought he'd be in the truck... maybe he's dug in, like a trap door spider. Some movies they can sink into the ground then come back out at night. I don't feel good bugging out leaving the vampire out." He rolls his shoulders, "But first I look at the girl." And he enters the tent saying, "Hello. I'm a paramedic, and I'm here to help. Do you mind if I examine you?" xxxxxAndrew nods, "I'd rather burn him, stake him with a silver stake or whatever the hell stops those things....I tend to agree, though. I don't feel comfortable in leaving him active. As far as him being dug in....not sure. Anyway...check her out. They fucked her over pretty well...." He casts a hard steely gaze to the remaining barely-alive thug, lips taut. Andrew turns away and kneels along the side of the truck, his partial-gloved left hand tracing the earth under the truck, to see if it's been disturbed. In his right sits the Glock 21. xxxxxRemaining at the tent, George remains frosty and watchful as he keeps a close eye in the direction that the wolves ran, barely moving until he needs to step aside to let Skip into the tent. Then he gets to his feet, taking a few steps away to give the EMT and the person inside some privacy (to his mind) while keeping watch. Across the lot, Bill walks a short perimeter with his gun at the ready, keeping watch and listening to what Andrew says. xxxxxSkip is remarkably gentle with the girl while he treats her -- disinfecting the abrasions and contusions, applying a few precious bandaids and dollops of bacetracin. Then he helps her collect herself and exit the tent. He points out Andrew and says, "That's the Lieutenant, he's going to have some questions for you probably -- I need to go tend to your friends. Right after I take care of something else." xxxxxMoving back to the man he had just stablized, he raises his voice and asks, "This man is a rapist and a traitor against his own kind. Collobrating with vampires and helping them enslave people and worse. I want to kill him. But I guess the people back home need to interrogte him probably. I just want to be clear now -- if I see this motherfucker walking the streets of my neighborhood a free man later, he's going have a motherfucking accident." xxxxxAdding nothing more to that, he heads for the group bound to the tree to check on their condition. xxxxxAndrew nods in response to Skip, "He won't be free. If he's lucky, he'll spend life behind bars. If he's not....there is a gallows with his name on it. That, or we'll draw and quarter him. And I think the vampire is under here...earth is disturbed, loamy and aerated, as if something...melted through the ground. Find some fuel....we'll burn this fucker out." xxxxxWhen Skip moves outside the tent, George looks at him and his expresison turns into fierce agreement at Skip's declaration of what the restrained man on the ground is and has done. He gives a firm nod, looking towards Andrew as well. Bill doesn't stop his patrol, but he clearly hears the words spoken. xxxxxOutside at the tree there are ten people gathered, they are restrained on a chain that has them tied to one another. The majority of them appear to be children between the ages of 8 and 13 scattered amongst three others, one young man in his twenties who looks as though he took a beating to keep him in line and two women who look as though they have been ill recently but all are beginning to stir. The necessity that they be absolutely still and silent seems to be passing as they realize that potentially there is salvation at hand and thankful murmurs are given to Skip as he comes to help. xxxxx"Hello," Skip offers, "I'm a paramedic here with a patrol from Safe Haven under command of Lieutenant McNamara. I'm going to see about getting you unchained and patch up your injuries. While I do that, can you tell me how many there were who attacked you? So far we've accounted for two men, two wolves and we suspect there is a vampire as well. Were there more? Do they contact others via radio? Are there more of you besides the girl that we need to account for? Don't all talk at once, and try to stick to the things I asked about, you'll have time to tell your entire story once we get you safely out of here." xxxxxAndrew stands up, moving back to where Skip and the others are. He nods politely, "Anything you can tell us would be greatly appreciated. It'll give us an edge that may save our lives...and by us, I mean all of us. I'm not sure we can make it back to Safe Haven before the sun goes down, and we'll need to find a secure location. Otherwise...we'll have to deal with whatever this hellspawned creature throws at us. I'd prefer to take him out now...work a pipe down into the ground, dump fuel down it, set it ablaze. If any of you can provide me or Doc here additional information, we're all ears." xxxxxThe children there cling to one another, and to the young man, but they stay quiet and seem to know to be still in this world. Or maybe it's because of the circumstances having them to terrified to speak up. "I can answer your questions." One of the women speaks up, her voice is rough, hoarse even. "I'm Clare. Rachel was in the tent. There was one another, Rachel's mother, but they killed her. She tried to stop them... him... it..." She breaks off slightly with a shudder. "There was a monster. A vampire. They didn't contact anyone else that I saw, no, there were just the guys who were here, they chained us all around the tree and drug her to the tent and we were trying to keep the kids from having to listen to her screaming, until she stopped." Another shudder breaks her off and her chin lifts. "There's a barn, a few miles away, about a mile from here, it was away from the water and we wanted to be closer to the water, but we know where it is..." xxxxxSkip listens to all of this with a grim expression, then looks over his shoulder to Andrew. "I'll move the truck, the wolves may come back if we do that so maybe we should everybody *in* the truck, then move it. Let them collect belongings and possessions, then George or Bill can get in the cab, mosey the truck back a ways closer to our other vehicle while we examine the spot where you think he's dug in." He rubs his chin. "I am not sure if we can force him out... or how deep in he's gone. I'd guess it can probably at least rudimentarily sense what is going on above the ground where it dug in. So yeah, we can try the pipe thing... but if you are interested, we can try something else that will probably let us leave. Think camo mesh, think stakes, think grenades on pull pins for the spoons, think fuel... it comes up, pulls the mesh of the netting, pulls the pins on the grenades, and they blow off and go with the fuel. If we stick around we can make sure its done -- or we can hoof it and hit the wall before nightfall if we make good time?" xxxxxSkip's expression is thoughtful, he looks back at the refugees while he talks, as if torn between the urge to make sure they are out of harms ways, and the desire to kill the vampire. xxxxxAndrew nods, listening to Skip's idea, "We can load everyone up...Hell, we can have George and Bob pull it off with these folks in a safe stand-off distance...I'm not great with explosives, sadly, but I think if we can work up a grenade trap....Let's take stock of what weapons and fuel George. Bob...maintain security. Skip..do what you can for these folks while they get packed up...the sooner we can get out of here, the better. I want to be well on our way to that barn so we can hole up for the night..I'll help take stock, and to provide security as well." He unslings his two one-quart canteens, and offers them to the former captives, "That's clean water from Safe Haven....if you're dehydrated, though, don't gorge yourselves on it." xxxxxThe people who are released murmur their thanks, the stronger and older helping with the younger childrens and they are quick to help gathering bags of things to leave. They don't seem concerned about taking everything, they grab the essentials and seem ready to go where-ever they are instructed to go for safety. The water that is offered is accepted, gratefully, the younger captives given sips first. xxxxxClare nods her head as she's listening to the discussion between the men. "We couldn't fight it, we would rather be far away from here, from that thing... even with it's goons out of the picture, it's a monster..." She insists, but quietly, putting up a hand towards the others in a calming gesture. "Give us fifteen minutes, we'll have everything we need. We could leave in five even, if you need us faster... we did drills, Helen... Rachel's mother, she trained us. She'd been in the military, had us practice bug outs, she's why most of us survived for as long as we did..." The woman is explaining to whomever listens as they talk about how to handle the vampire. But when it's clear that becomes the priority she moves to help the other captives and check on Rachel herself. xxxxxBill and George move closer to their companions as plans are discussed. When the talk of explosives comes up, George clears his throat and says to Andrew, especially, but really to both. "Former Seabee, sir. I can help with the explosives." xxxxxOnce the people are covered medically, and they are gathering their possessions, Skip moves the truck. Not too far, just about fifty feet. Then he goes back to the spot where it had been parked, tossing the keys to Bill since George is asserting his background as a naval construction worker. He examines the disturbed soil. Lowering his head close enough to the ground that his nose tip almost touches it, and he takes a deep whiff, flaring his nostrils. He mutters something, then rises to his full height. Taking out a pen and notepad, he draws a quick schematic of the trap he is envisioning, and this he hands over to Andrew and George, before returning to the spot of disturbed earth and jabbing his lacross stick down hard and sharp, perhaps digging out a divit for the trap, or for the place to put Andrew's pipe. xxxxxAndrew watches Skip with interest for a moment, and then shakes his head. He helps where he can to gather supplies and carry bags for the captives, helping to support them as he helps them to the truck. "You've got at least fifteen minutes, ma'am. Going to take us that long to rig up a good morning gift for Mr. Fangs." After helping those whom he can, he begins to look around for a pipe...something he can force into the ground and use it to funnel in fuel. xxxxxAbout the time that the people are done loading their stuff and themselves into the vehicle is the when the paramedic hefts up high on his titanium lacrosse stick, and then with a grunt of effort, and a flexing of unreasonably developed muscles, he drives downward. The metal hits the dirt and makes an unsual sound, a small cloud of soil dusting up like a microbomb strike and billowing out from the impact site and dusting Skip and things not even nearby in a layer of dirt. The drive downward is so hard that the would be doctor almost loses his balance, catching himself in a three-point football stance with splayed fingers, as the other hand has been driven up to the end of the stick, only a few inches sticking out, the rest of the length having been driven straight down like a nail fired from a nailgun into drywall. He looks simultaneously surprised and smugly impressed. xxxxxAndrew begins to fan out, looking closely at things around the remains of the camp. He quickly finds a couple of good pipes, and he picks them up, nodding at their weight. He sets those aside on the ground near where Skip works. He finds a couple of cans of fuel, "Do you mind if we use one of these? We can replace it when we get back to Safe Haven..." He doesn't lift the can until he's given the green light, but once he gets it he moves the container of fuel over to the pile as well. xxxxxThe people who are packing up their important belongings and preparing to bug out are more than willing to allow Andrew to take and use the items that he asks about, Clare even adds, “If we’ll be allowed to stay in Safe Haven, we’re not going to need that stuff anyway, use what you need.” They do their best to stay out of the way of the men who are keeping watch or working, the things they focus on packing come from the tents and is fit into duffle bags, backpacks and well weathered totes. The young man and one of the women picks up and carries a heavy cooler that should have wheels but is missing them, this is set near where the truck is moved, with the lid ajar it is evident that the cooler contains food storage that they are less willing to leave behind. xxxxxOne of the younger children, having gathered the things important to him, stands with a stuffed rabbit firmly held in his arm and stares at the working men with an edge of amazed interest. When Skip drives the end of the lacrosse stick into the ground the boy’s eyes go wide and he looks around at the other kids to see if anyone else saw this. But as no one else was looking that way to see, he turns back in time to watch George as the man drops to his knees a short distance away, letting his gun slide to his side while still secured on the strap around his body, the former Seabee had looked over the note that he had been passed with the suggested schematic on it. He doesn’t really comment on it, he simply moved to go straight to work on construction using it as a guide. The man rather skillfully begins to put together the components that are being retrieved for him by Andrew, in combination with things he has on his own person, to expedite the building of a rather well constructed explosive trap as Bill continues to walk the perimeter around the area where they are working, keeping an eye out for returning wolves or other potential and unknown dangers. xxxxxAs Skip has ended in a position with one hand braced down on the ground to help keep his balance, the soil beneath him shifts with the consistency of some of the softest earth the man is likely to have ever experienced like the freshly plowed and tilled soil of farm fields and within the earth the lacrosse stick shakes. xxxxxAndrew nods, "You'll be allowed to stay in Safe Haven. We've got plenty of room, so that's not a problem." He picks up the can of fuel and takes it to where George is working, along with his lengths of pipes. He places the stuff besides the Seabee, and then moves off to the perimeter to help Bob patrol the area, watching for the wolves to return. xxxxxSkip exhales with a hiss of pleasure, softly expressing, "Yessssssssssss, come on out." Louder he calls out, "Civilians get locked in, LT he's coming up to dance, watch for those wolves." He moves back from his stick, extracting the fire-hardened stake he kept for himself after passing others out to the rest of the trouple. His eyes narrow but his pupils dialate, blood and adrenaline and the essence of the Shadow flooding his system and making the hairs on his arms raise up. Spiritual power roils through his transmutable limbs, flooding them with the potency of his honor and a preternatural gift for carnage, his hands flex, fingers covered by the fetish brass knuckles, he simultaneously relaxes and coils ready to spring, visualizing the strike he intends to make. xxxxxAndrew turns to Skip, "What???Fuck...OK folks...head to the truck. Drop whatever you're carrying and head there now. George, Bob...fall back to the truck and defend the civilians at all costs." He glances to George, and then to Skip, "Well..that shoots that plan. How long we have?" He holsters the Glock 21 and pulls the FN SCAR-H to his shoulder, the muzzle rising into the low ready position, "I hope this fucker likes bullets." xxxxxHearing the call out from Skip, some of the children practically run towards the box truck's back end, the others present also pick up their own pace to hurry. "Not enough time to rig it to go when he emerges, if he's coming up now, best I can make is a big boom to greet him, want that LT?" George asks, taking a few steps back from where Skip is with a grenade in hand, looking at the two cans of gasoline pointedly then. Bill hurries forward, ready to open fire and with a touch of anxiety evident, clearly he's still a bit green in one-on-one monster fighting. xxxxxAndrew grabs the fuel can and moves up to the area where Skip is, and where the hemovore will come up through the ground. "George...find a road flare if you can...lighter will do in a pinch, I think....Skip...get ready to whack the sonuvabitch when he breaks through, and be ready to step back as we're going to light him up. Bob.." Andrew says, looking to where the man stands near the truck, "Stand ready to shoot the creature if he breaks free of melee range. Also stand by to defend the civilians." He begins to flood the ground near the stick with fuel. xxxxxSkip raises an eyebrow and then grabs the nub of his lacrosse stick still stuck in the ground. He flexes and pulls, the stick coming upward after a moment of resistance and making some blood arc off the end and splatter on the soil. Skip indicates the blood and says, "Must have hit the fucker when I made the hole." He steps backward, and digs in side pocket of his pack, bringing out a blue surgical towel which he unfolds with a sharp motion and then wipes off the end of the lacross stick. He stuff the blood covered towel into his pack then waits -- left hand gripping the stick mid-length, the stake point down for a sharp stabbing in the right -- suggesting the paramedic is ambidextrous. xxxxx"Got it, LT." George responds to Andrew's instructions, patting at a cargo pocket on his pants and pulling out an illumination flare from amongst his stash of supplies. Bill breaks off, taking a few steps back to make distance where he can have a good shot as well as cover the area, including the truck. xxxxxAs the lacrosse stick is yanked free of the soil the ground there seems to almost boil in a weird, slow-motion fashion that suggests that something is coming up and out of the earth. And it does come, not supernaturally fast but two, clawed and muddy hands covered in fingerless gloves reach up and out of the dirt, reaching up and leveraging the body that comes after a roaring head. The creature is covered in mud that is caked to it, it's eyes narrow slits and it's hair dirt where it pokes out from under a dirty black hooded sweatshirt. All of it's clothing is impossible to tell the color of, covered with the rich clay and dirt as it is, the creature lets out a frenzied scream as it emerges with the intent to flee. xxxxxSkip responds to the scream with one of his own, right arm arcing back and swinging forward like a pendulum as he steps into the emerging vampire's personal space and drives it upward through the ribcage with bone snapping force so that the wooden shaft is driven through the undead heart. The screaming abruptly is cut off, there isn't even a shudder, Skip steps backward and the body falls to the gasoline saturated dirt with the stake buried up to the grip in its chest. "Suck on that, mother fucker," he sneers before spitting on Bell. Then he gets clear of the fire circle, his walk a bit jaunty, like he wants to do and endzone dance. xxxxxAs the creature emerges from the ground and he watches Skip leap forward to drive the stake into him, George lights the flare he had pulled and throws it into the circle of spilled fuel, after bouncing it off of the chest of the collapsed creature. The dirt must be a hinderance though for the fuel actually catching good, there is no massive explosion of fire, it rather catches a spark and begins a slow and methodical burning through the mud, catching Bell's hoodie and jeans on fire, what of him has emerged from the ground. The parts of him that are exposed to the daylight, the tips of his claws, one wrist extended where he fell, and his face have begun to smoke in the sunlight as though they were about to catch fire as well, but his features are frozen in a snarl and he does not make a sound. xxxxxAs the former Game Warden sees the ground boil over, he steps backwards once, then twice. The fuel can is dropped as he does so, his right hand going to the Glock 21 in the tactical holster on his right thigh. With the practiced ease of someone trained in close-quarter combat, the weapon is brought up, close to the chest of the massive man to prevent his opponent from grabbing the barrel. His finger moves into the trigger guard, applying steady pressure to the trigger until there is a loud *CRACK* as the subsonic .45 caliber round explodes from the gun. The spent casing is ejected at nearly the same time, going up and to the right of the man. The round impacts the vampire solidly in the chest as the Lieutenant continues to move backwards to give himself room. xxxxxOn the ground the creature who is clearly damaged by bullets and the wound from the lacrosse stick that stabbed him, those spots have likewise begun to smoke and more of the creatures clothing smolders as the fire started by the flare spreads. The smell is terrible, the smell of burning flesh and hair is somehow magnified as this creature burns in the sunlight slowly. George and Bill both watch with expressions hardened by having Seen Shit, now that the immediate threat it posed seems to have been neutralized as it is burning helplessly. xxxxxSkip tilts his head as he considers the consumption of the vampire, comparing it to his expectations. Then he moves further back, pulling the shotgun out of its holster to replace the missing stake. He keeps an eye on the people they rescued, wary of subliminal messages left by vampiric hoodoo, but mostly he watches for the wolves. xxxxxAndrew steps back a few more steps, the weapon going down to a low ready once he's sure that the Vampire isn't getting up. He doesn't say anything for a moment, watching the flames dance about. He then turns away toward the civilians, "OK people...show's over. Let's get your gear and get mounted up for the ride to your new home. I think we can spare a few minutes if you want to pack a bit better, bring momentos or keepsakes of loved ones, things like that. George, Bob..let's establish a patrol route around here until we're ready to go. Doc.." He say, looking to the young paramedic with a newfound admiration for the plucky lacrosse player, "Once you're done there if you'd make sure that everyone is OK to travel." xxxxxSkip taps two fingers to his eyebrow as a form of salute, "On it El-Tee." He re-holsters the sawed off shotgun. He slinks his pack off again, pulls out more basic supplies like cotton balls, one of which he dabs into the blood created when the wolf was shot, which he puts into a small ziplock bag. He follows the Lieutenant's instructions and helps those in need. Once the fire is down, he goes to what is left of the vampire, looking for the incisors. These he collects, or, if they are still attached to a skull, he takes the entire skull and puts it in a specimen bag. But he still keeps an eye out for wolves as he goes. xxxxxWith orders given, George and Bill do as they are instructed and walk the perimeter of the camp while those who were rescued assure that they have everything that they want to keep. The creature on the ground continues to burn slowly and steadily, it's clawed hands turning into ash and gradually the rest of it's body follows slowly. The only enemy to remain is the ghoul that remains hogtied in the center of the camp. xxxxxOnce everyone has got everything, Andrew gets in behind the wheel of the truck. "OK everyone...load up. We'll be heading back to town...One of you can ride shotgun up here. George...take the pintle mount on the Hummer, and switch off driving with Skip. Bob...you're with me. We'll go as fast as we can, but we'll want to take a few breaks to allow you to get out and stretch your legs..." xxxxxAs Skip heads back to the hummer with George, he uses his left arm to fireman carry their prisoner, who he deposits in the back of the vehicle and adds another layer of securing to -- this with Duct Tape on his ankles. After they tear down and pack up the camouflage, and George is locked and loaded up above, he puts the vehicle in gear and accelerates back down the road toward Safe Haven Harbor. He contemplates that from the point of view of the Bangor Blood State, this was a hostile military action and thus casus belli -- and that works for him, because he has plenty of room on the mantle back at the K.E.G. house for more vampire skulls, and summer is the season of War.