An Introduction:

It’d been ten years, ten years since a attack and a crash had altered the world as we knew it. I never understood the situation fully as any news about it was cut off pretty quick and anything anyone had said was taken as merely rumors or hearsay. The only facts anyone could agree upon were that two nuclear weapons had been detonated in the continental United States, one on Wall Street and another near congress while it was in session.

Some said they could’ve fixed it, if they were able to they waited to long. A huge market crash and no one to turn to as whoever was the president at that point stayed silent lead to a...halt to public services and some took advantage of this. Now I don’t really know what happened after that, the last thing I heard about was massive riots in major cities all around the world and a lack of public resources for local police forces before the electricity shut off. I still remember how cold those first days had been and I also remember seeing the fires on the horizon as St. Louis burned, it took a few months before the local communities started to work together when it looked as though who ever was in charge of the government had given up on them. It was ad hoc at first but after the first eight months they had everything down well enough, food was always an issue but we were able to get enough to keep us until the growing season.

After the first year we started to get news from the outside of the community, people had banded together all along the Missouri river like we had, they started to call themselves the River Confederacy but we were merely interested in trading. By the third year we had become a major trading and travel location, from people buying arms and ammunition for the wars up north to the plantation owners selling their crops but with all this came bandits and raiders as well as the need for defense. Soon we were a power in our own right but we became a independent free river city rather than join the River confederacy.

As the first ten years went by new powers rose from the north the Great Lakes Union, to the east the Reminet Government, to the south a group called the Planter’s league formed. The west spawned many new powers but the three big player were the New California Republic, the Plains Chiefdoms and to the southwest the Texas Republic of course the River Confederacy still was around as well as the free river cities.

The new powers had one thing in common, besides their hate for each other that is, they all wanted control over the River Confederacy and the Free River Cities. With enemies on all sides our story truly begins, the tale of a pathfinder scout standing at the tip of a potential war.
----
You woke to the sun in your face as the morning rays burst in through your window, you stood with a stretch and a hand through the mop of hair on your head. You look out of the window to see that the streets were already alive with traders while many shops were just opening their doors for the morning rush, you walk to the side of the room where a small stove and a large iron coffee pot sat already filled with water. You rummage around a small cabinet until you find a sack of coffee with practiced ease you are soon pouring the coffee into the pot with a fire started in the stove, you sit down on your bed again you look to your left where a old 30-30 rifle sits. As most mornings you grab your cleaning kit and get to work, it was an old Marlin he had used when he was younger to hunt with and it had been his dad’s before he got it but that had been years ago.

The work is memory to you by now and you proceed without thinking on it, you zone out until the smell of your coffee reaches your nose so you set down the rifle on the bed and grab a simple mug from the same cabinet the coffee grounds had been in and pour. The first sip is way too hot and bitter but it wakes you up and lets your eyes fully open, the first rays of sun had turned to a full shower of light that illuminated the cobble street outside your tiny apartment. You return to your bed with your bitter brew and continue to clean the rifle as you needed to fully clean the gun today rather than just the bore. The tools you use have been with you since you were thirteen some had been replaced and some yet still looked as if they were pulled out of a sunken ship, it takes an hour before you are satisfied.

Coffee gone, rifle cleaned and your self groomed or at least as groomed as you could get your neck length hair and beard. You feel older than you are but you also look it to, you dress in warm clothes as you grab your things like your rifle, ammo, pistol, knife and backpack you head out the door and down the stairs out into the world. The sunlight is rather intense for you after leaving the darkened apartment, you raise a hand to shield your eyes as a militia member eyes you wearily. Most knew you by reputation so they would leave you alone but some of the newer ones thought they would make a name for themselves by roughing up the scout problem with that was you knew how to fight and fight well, broken bones and bruised egos were normally as far as it went but sometimes they didn’t know when to stop mostly after they had been paid and found their way to the bar and to much beer in their bellies.

You walked down the street to the help board where everyone put up their needless little tasks they could do or needed a different sort to do. Nothing really caught your eye, a small request for an escort to the ruins of St. Louis but you passed that as you had been to the ruins once or twice and it never ended without a gun fight. You give up on the board and head to the inn, the place was a coffee shop at one point but it had long since stopped serving that purpose. You take a seat against the wall and wait as something tells you that work will be found here but when was the question.


You sat at the table for an hour or so, the inn owner bringing you some food on the house. You helped him with a…little problem a few months back and in lieu or tangible payment he let you eat, sleep and drink at the inn for free but you found no problem with that, you ate slowly as people streamed in and out of the lobby some buying up rooms and others exchanging keys to leave most were traders from the cities in the River Confederacy but others were more...unique. A group of men and one woman walked in the inn and they weren’t traders that was for sure, the group was five strong and armed though seeing people with firearms wasn’t really rare it was what each person had that got your eye. 

The first man who had walked in carried an old AR-15 in the A2 style, his hair was graying and several age lines sat upon his face while jade green eyes looked about the lobby of the inn seemingly expecting trouble. The second man looked much younger, much softer with a head or red hair and spotted with speckles while his eyes looked bright and unburdened, he also had an AR-15 but was kitted out like the majority of AR-15s were before the fall with some type of red dot sitting on a rail and a sixteen inch barrel ending in a birdcage flash suppressor. The third man surprised you as he walked in with a genuine S.A.W, you had heard rumors that some federal armories hadn’t been opened by the former U.S military right after the fall and had remained hidden for anyone to find. The man himself had dark ebony skin and a jovel look on his bald face like he had just told a joke and took immense satisfaction at the reaction to it, his eyes though...they looked odd almost as if a maddening amount of sadness wanted to spill forth from them. The fourth and final man looked younger than the first who had walked in but older than the second and he seemed...rather plain, like someone you would pass by on the street without a second glance. His most notable feature was a scar from a cleft lip but that was it, he carried a shotgun as his armament and from the looks of it you’d have to guess it was a mossberg 590 though at the same time it could be a newly made gun from the River Confederacy that was modeled after the 590. Finally was the only woman in the group, brown hair in a bun, brown eyes and a look of disgust on her face. She carried a bolt action, it appeared to be a Savage Axis from before the fall also of note was the scope sitting on top. You were unsure if it was a 223. Gun or a 308. Gun.

So standing there were two infantry, one squad gunner, one CQC specialist and a DM. You make note of their clothes being under chest rigs and of a matching woodland pattern that you had seen many regulars of the River Confederacy wear, now seeing soldiers of the River Confederacy here was not uncommon but never in a organized squad or this heavily armed and you had a feeling them being here had to do with the rising tensions between the River Confederacy and the Planter’s Union down south. The gray haired man spoke to the innkeeper in hushed tone before the innkeeper lifted his hand and...pointed...at you.

“Oh joy,” You thought as the gray hair and his group walked over to your table, you sat up and paid attention after all this might be a paying job.

The gray hair was the first to speak, “Are you a Pathfinder Scout? If so we are looking to hire you for your services. We are willing to-”

“Damn Captain already asking for someone’s services and you haven’t even treated them to dinner?” The words came out of the black man with the S.A.W before he was thumped on the head by the plain looking shotgun wielder.

“Goddammit Jackson, can’t go two minutes without a remark can you?” The shotgun wielder retorted.

Jackson spoke, “You know you love it when I break up the monotony James.” 

The woman was about to chime in but the captain beat her to it.

“Can it both of you! I told you two back on the boat to cut out the bullshit or I’d send you both back down.” His words came out a bit strained with frustration, this had not been the first time he had to dress these two down nor would it be the last. “Are we done? Good.” He turned to you. “Now as I was saying we are-”

You held your hand up. “Stop. First off sit down,” You speak as you kick out the chair next to you to sit in. “Second you ain’t here to negotiate what you are willing or not willing to pay me, I set the rate and you just set down the payment.” You fold your fingers in front of you. “You may now be thinking about how you will just go find another Pathfinder and that’s fine, you want to settle for inferior skills then that’s your prerogative but I now know several things about you all. One, you are all regulars from the River Confederacy. Two, you are in a little bit of a pinch after all the Free River Cities are friends with the Confederacy but the cities, especially this one, wouldn’t accept a military presence no matter how small and the Confederacy wouldn’t be brazen enough to send military units in unless matters were very serious. Now you need to understand if you want the best Pathfinder east of the Rockies then look no further but you don’t get to set the price. So,”-you spoke before taking a drink-”How can I help you?” A toothy grin forming on your face as you punctuated that last sentence.


The gray hair had a look on his face that somewhere between frustration and anger, something told you he was used to just flashing a rank back in the River Confederacy and getting whatever he needed or wanted 

“Captain we should just find someone else he clearly ain’t gonna make this easy,” The woman said. She looked tired, probably from dealing with both those Jackson and James characters as well as the constant flirting she probably had to put up with on the way here. She wasn’t bad looking in a sort of plain looking way and the number of drunk river traders, drunk militia and drunks in general around here would of been catcalling her at all times.

“Everyone says he’s the best around even the other pathfinders. We don’t have time to find someone else.” Was the response she got before the captain turned back to me while sitting down. “Alright name your terms pathfinder.”

You look at the man, this captain as well as the people he had with him. They had a mission and they needed you. “Well...that depends. If you just want me to guide you all to one of the interior trade towns or cities then that won’t cost you all that much-” you tap your fingers on the table “-but something tells me you ain’t here for a small trip to the interior.”

The captain looked away, probably having a debate in his head about telling you what they were here for. “Look we...is there anywhere we could speak more...privately?” You look him in the eyes for a moment before nodding and standing up.

You motion for them to follow you, you emerge out into the busy street which had doubled in foot traffic since you had first walked into the inn. Most people parted out of your way since you were walking against the flow of pedestrian traffic but you walk slow to take a chance to look at everything going on in this little bazaar of the trade city.

As you walk up the street you pass a small alcove with many people watching an auctioneer selling his wares it just so happens that his wares were people. When the Planter’s Union to the south had formed they had former on the backs of well planters, small operations soon turned to huge scale plantations that needed laborers which led to the practice of slavery being reintroduced though it had changed a bit since the old days. It served as a punishment for heinous crimes such as rape and murder for starters and of course race no longer had a part of it, of course slavers did roam around looking for weak and unsuspecting travelers to take down south to sell. It was seen as illegal in the River Confederacy so slave auctions normally took place in the free trade cities such as this one, a quick glance back revealed the looks of disgust on your party’s faces.

You find your way to your apartment building and ascend the stairs to your floor while motioning for the others to follow you up, the door creaks open with little effort and you go and start the stove up again for warmth. The whole apartment was small but the table you had was enough to seat all six of you, as everyone finds a place you repeat the process from this morning and make more coffee though this time for five extras.

“So, why are you five here?” It was worded as a question but came out as more of a demand as you passed out cups with coffee in them.

*Sigh* “We’ve been sent up from the Confederacy on a mission to St. Louis.” You stop everything you were doing and look at the captain. “I see I have your attention now.” 

“Ya no shit, St. Louis or what’s left of it is a hell hole. A hell hole you want to got to.” The retort was spoken at speed, St. Louis was the home to most of the raider gangs that harassed the overland trade routes as well as the many IEDs planted along the roads leading into the city. “Look if you want my help you need to tell me everything.”

The captain took out an envelope with big bold OUR EYES ONLY on it and slid it to you. “I’m sure you’re aware of the growing tension between the River Confederacy and the Planter’s Union? Well a few months ago we got a report from one of our spies in the Union, the spy said that he had found plans for an invasion of the River Confederacy from the north, east and west.” This was something that was quite inevitable as the Planter’s Union had been chomping at the bit to gain control of the southern Missouri and Mississippi rivers and seeing as the Planter’s Union controlled the areas to the east and west of the two rivers this whole situation was a long time coming.

“We blunted their forces to the east and west but they were paltry in numbers compared to what we have found out about the norther force. The Planter’s Union sent a force along the southern coast that then marched in the wild lands between the Union’s territory and the remnant government’s territory all the way to St. Louis,” The captain finished looking at you. “The River Confederacy is willing to pay you your weight in gold when the mission is finished.”

“And how exactly are you going to deal with this force-” 

“Are you gonna help us or what,” Asked the woman DM interrupting your question for the captain.

You quiet yourself as you stare down the woman with a look of anger in your eyes, while not entirely cowed she did have a rebuffed look on her face as she looks away from you and you return to the captain. “Ya, i’ll take the job. We’ll head out at night so you all go around and get what you need and meet me here or wait here, I have some things I need to get if we’re going to be making a trip to St. Louis.” You stand without another word to theses people and walk outside to the town, you have preparations to make.


You walk down the street a ways, past the inn and towards the...seedier part of the trade city. The whores, gamblers and bandits call this part of the city home so did you at one point but that is a tale for another time. Your destination was not but twenty yards from you when you were accosted by some...disadvantaged youths.

They weren’t entirely stupid it would seem as two confronted you from the front a quick look back showed you that one had cut off your route to the rear, they all look younger than you by a good few years, actually quite a few years younger as the oldest couldn’t have been more than seventeen and the youngest which was behind you looked to be about twelve but you were to far to be one hundred percent on that. Finally, the middle one seemed to be fifthteen maybe?

You shook your head. “Look kids, I don’t really know what racket you all are running here but from what I can piece together you all are a bunch of stick up kids. I’m also gonna guess from that hand in your pocket you either got a knife or a gun of some sort.” You motion to the eldest child whose hand was stuck in his left coat pocket wrapped around...something. 

“Don’t ask questions old man just give us yer money.” The oldest spoke listlessly clearly used to doing this sort of thing. He pulled out a rather mean looking pocket knife, three inch blade with some serrated teeth at the bottom near the handle. It reminded you of a pocket folder you had as a kid.

“Nice knife kid, wanna see mind?” You ask as you reached behind you to a sheath located across your waist, you pull out your blade. You had it made by a local blacksmith and had her base it on the old Arkansas Toothpick sitting at almost forteen inches of blade it served to ward off any foolish people who might test you and if they pushed harder well...let’s just say that the blade ain’t just for show.

Neither of the teens in front of you seemed to be ready for you to have pulled out something like that as evidenced by the second oldest teen running back from where they came, this also had the effect of making the youngest that was behind you run off as well choosing to rabbit rather than wait and see what the other teen had run from but the oldest, he didn’t run.
You can’t say you weren’t surprised. “You're either the dumbest or bravest bastard i’ve met in a while kid and really that’s saying something. So...you gonna try and stick me before I stick you? Or should we play this a different way?” You ask as you get into a stance to back out of this teen’s slash and stabbing range should he decide to fight you. “I don’t really want to deal with killing you too much hassle with the militia and what not plus something tells me those two that ran depend a great deal on you. Don’t make me leave them alone.” Your threat hung plainly in the air, you would kill this teen if he tried to fight you.

He didn’t respond with words instead he lunged at you but his footing was unsure and unstable you take advantage. You step out of the teen’s attack before lashing out with your own blade at his hand, your range ensures a connected strike that the teen isn’t expecting and on instinct he pulls his hand back in sudden pain but he kept his feet in place at which point you make the third move.

You lash out with your right foot wrapping around his left and pulling, his balance is put off when you tackle him into the ground, the sudden impact making him release the knife he had and the pop you deliver to his nose with the pommel of your blade stuns him while breaking his nose. The blood just starts pouring out but he finds his arms pinned by your legs as he tries to stanch the bleeding on instinct with his hands.

“Told ya…” You speak slightly out of breath as he glares at you with fear and anger in his eyes. “By all rights I should shove this knife in your heart then leave it at that but you remind me a bit too much of myself back in the day.” You say as you shift your weight so you can flip him over, with his belly in the dirt you lift his head by his hair so he can look forward. 
At the end of the street was a recruiting office for the milita. “You could go to them, the militia is a thankless job but you get paid and a roof over your and your family’s heads, alternatively you could go work on the docks. They always could use more physical labor but it’s hard work.” 

You flip him back over so he is looking at you again. “It’s really up to you what you choose.” You set his nose so it will heal, he tries to howl in pain but your blade at his throat. “But if I catch you trying to do or pull some shit like this again imma kill you and then sell the other two for a nice handsome profit at the slave auction, i’m sure some sick fuck down the river could use them for....something.” You say with a dark undertone before you cut him across the cheek. “Something to remember me by, now get.” You demand as you stand up and kick him away.


With that issue dealt with you finally made your way to your destination, it was only about ten feet away from where your little scuffle took place. You find yourself standing in front of a nondescript door with a sign in the window that read

THE PEOPLE’S ARMS.

You open the door and a small bell chimes, a young man is reading a book behind the counter when he looks up at you and his eye’s flash in recognition.  
“I’ll get the boss.” The man spoke to you,

You look around the shop as the man disappears into the back, anything weapon related could be found here. Standard things were on the walls of course such as AK pattern rifles though most were chambered in 7.62x39 since it was easier for the local armories to make and sell then the 7n6 ammo, there were also ARs in both 308 and 5.56. You see several shotguns ranging from simple single and double barrel models to a few M1014 semi automatics which are both way out of your price range had you been looking for a new gun.

Of course like the gun shops from before the fall this one had it’s share of oddities, their was an old worn Beretta police pistol sitting behind a glass case but the odd thing was how worn it was and the fact it had been found right near an M1 Garand that’s bayonet was stuck in the Beretta’s trigger guard almost as if the Garand tried to stab the Beretta though that was impossible, guns weren’t alive to do things on their own. Another oddity was the Martini Henry rifle up on the wall, you were a bit surprised none of the local hunters had bought it yet though ammo scarcity was probably the reason.

Your attention was drawn back to the front desk as the young man came back out but another man was with him, the new man was around your age and was obviously of a Korean persuasion. This was Kim or at least that is what he introduced himself as to everyone who knew him. You knew a bit about Kim apparently he came to the US right before the fall, he was applying for a job when everything came crashing down but if Kim was one thing then it was resourceful and smart. After the fall his knowledge with computer networks were a little more than useless but he found that he had a skill for another trade, gunsmithing.

He taught himself through trial and error but he eventually got to the level of a master, testament to that was many of the guns around the store. Save for a few of the pistols and rifles all of them were made by Kim by hand and it was almost as if he had a photographic memory or something because if you gave him a rifle and allowed him to take it apart then he would have a working copy in a month if it was built from scratch and a week if he had parts provided. He was key to many of the local armories whom he provided drawn diagrams of the weapons to so they could be mass produced or at least as mass produced as you could get with people on assembly lines and had made parts.

“Ah my best customer, what brings you here today Pathfinder?” The Korean man spoke with a slight accent.

“Arms and ammo Kim, got a job that’s taken me to the ruins so I need to be prepared.” Was your response. “I need two hundred round of 45 along with about five magazines for a 1911 pistol as well as three hundred rounds of 30-30 in a few pouches.” You knew it was quite a lot of ammo and thus a lot of extra weight but the last time you made a trip to St. Louis on a normal amount of ammo you ran out in the ensuing firefights and got clipped by some shrapnel in the ensuing retreat.

Kim motioned to his employee who had been reading the book who sighed and went about getting the ammo. “I will never understand why you keep that old lever gun Pathfinder, like I said i’ll replace it for free.” The offer hung in the air.

“Sorry Kim, I trust this weapon plus it has carried me through more mud and blood then I care to recall and until it breaks it’ll be my primary choice.” Your explanation seemed to satisfy Kim though the grumble that escaped his lips may of said differently.

The young man came back with the five 1911 magazines all loaded along with the loose 45 rounds in a small sack that would be attach to your waist along with the 30-30 rounds in ammo pouches made for your pathfinding clothes, the standard attire for most Pathfinders in the Midwest. “That’ll be five gold please.” Kim asked and your eyes bug out at the price for a moment before you sigh and pull out the payment from your clothes and toss them onto the counter. “Come, again pathfinder.” You hear Kim call out as you leave the shop.

Your next stops are more mundane as you walk through the open market to get some salted pork and pemmican for the journey in the event hunting provides nothing, you make your way back to the apartment building where you had left your new employers at to find them waiting for you. You motion for them to wait a moment as you head into the apartment and grab your pack before heading outside to meet them again. “Ready to go? Good.” You say without letting them respond. The timing is perfect as the sun is just beginning to set.

“Why are we leaving at night Pathfinder?” The grey hair asks you, the question no doubt hanging in the mind of the others as well.

“So we don’t get hassled by the militia, they will let me pass but they will ask you all for some form of ID and I get the impression you don’t want to be found out about yet, remember the Planter’s Union has people here as well and if they get word to this force that we are coming then a bushwhack is probably in our future.” The explanation satisfies them as you all make your way to the bridge above the river’s shore, it had been there before the fall and luckily had not degraded much since then so it was the main point of entry into the city from land.

The night shift guards of the militia were notoriously lazy and greedy so when one of them tried to stop your group the bag of gold he found in his hands was motivation enough to let your group pass the checkpoints unhindered. Before you stretched what was interstate 70, your journey was about to begin.
You look back at the ones who had hired you. “Thirty six miles everybody, let’s go.”


The sun was not quite below the horizon as you and the group began moving, about five miles was what you all needed to make to be on track but you hadn’t been given a specific timetable and you would rather get to St. Louis later instead of earlier. You get to the bend in the road that connected interstate 70 and interstate 270, you were following the route you used to take to work before the fall, to your family’s donut shop but those memories were unneeded at the moment.

You motion to the group to follow you into the little patch of ground where several trees had grown between the lanes of interstate 70 North and interstate 70 South that both lead to Interstate 270.

“We’ll make camp here tonight, start again in the morning. We shouldn’t be bothered here but the farther we get out the more need we will have of night watches and trip wires.” Your words roll off your tongue as you spark a small fire with practiced ease, the dry grass around providing you tinder and the branches of the trees providing the main fuel for the fire. “Eat light, we’ll cook a good breakfast in the morning so we can move through the day.” 

You got out your tent and bedroll, in your peripherals you see the group doing the same. The joker with the S.A.W, Jackson and his serious friend with the shotgun, James were setting up a two person tent. This didn’t really surprise you, though their personalities were complete opposites they seemed close.

The gray hair and the youngest of the group were also setting up a two person tent, the way the gray hair spoke to the young man seemed to imply they were family or as close as family, as a matter of fact the closer you looked the more similarities between the young red head and the old gray hair but there weren’t enough to imply they were father and son. The young man seemed to be struggling to properly put the tent up almost as if this was the first time he had been out in the wild.

Finally the marksman or rather markswoman of this group had a single person tent much like your own, she had a intense look on her face as a few strands of her brown hair fell in front of her face which she blew out of the way. She was plain...in a good way, she looked like one of those great ladies that you could depend on in situations but she also had a constant look of...not quiet anger or sadness but more along the lines of disappointment.

You had finished putting up your tent and stowing away your gear when you sat down by the fire, gesturing to the gray hair and the others to join you. “Look I don’t expect you five to trust me but I do wish to know your names and a little about yourselves, nothing too personal of course maybe some likes and dislikes? Though enough so I can get to know you all. After all why would you trust someone you didn’t know to watch your back?” The question was rhetorical but they understood that.

When none of the others decided to speak the gray hair spoke up. “Well fine then I’ll go first.” He adjusted himself as a breeze flitted through the little camp, it was late winter and temperatures weren’t terrible but a chill still hung in the air. “My name is Anderson Walsh, I’m a captain in the River Confederacy, I like my job and nation and dislike the Planter’s Union. I want to retire but the military seems to keep mixing my papers up and pushing that back.” A military man through and through it seemed. “Waylon you next.” He spoke to the youngest of the group.

“O..oh right...well my name is Waylon Levit, I like my uncle here,” He spoke as he pointed to Anderson. “I also like to sing. I don’t like honey or snow.” He spoke simply and with a sort of joy you saw heard from children most of the time, he almost seemed happy to be here rather than serious like you expected most soldiers to be like.

“I guess I’ll go next,” Spoke Jackson. “Name’s Jackson, Jackson Sebber and I like the ebony beauties back in the capital Baton Rouge...a good drink is also partial to my taste.” He added at the end with a good natured grin. “I dislike the Planter’s Union as well, I hate what they do to the slaves they keep and I hope one day we can march through their territory and put each of their plantations to the torch.” The last bit was spoke with a fiery passion you had not expected from the S.A.W gunner.

The final man looked at you lazily. “Name’s James Wall, I like my shotgun and frog gigging. I don’t like the time it takes to cook frog legs and I also don’t like the Planter’s Union.” His words seemed to be tired and worn but you would hazard a guess James was rather lazy by the way he spoke. “Your turn princess.” His words holding a bit of contempt as he looked to the group’s only woman.

She gave James an almost glacial look before turning back to you though she seemed a bit surprised by the genuine look of interest you had on your face though you had given each person the same look she seemed to not be used to this look. “Well...my name is Aubrey Higgins and I enjoy hunting, my father and brother back home. I hate liars and cheaters.” She was quick with the information with the last part sounding a bit more...personal than the others had been. “I also can stand all the goddamned cat calling from the river sailors.” She added in at the end which got a snort from Jackson and a grin from James who tried and failed to hide it, they both got what was beginning to look like a trademark look of Aubrey before she and the others all looked at you.

You sigh a bit and stoke the fire with a stick. “Well, my name is a bit personal to me so you all are gonna have to keep calling me pathfinder like everyone else. As for my likes and dislikes, well I enjoy hunting myself, I also like my rifle, knife and pistol. I also really enjoy this, the ranging and path finding a career that kills so many young has me running around.” You speak as you run a hand through your hair letting some of the gray show through. “I don’t particularly like catfish and that’s about it, never really found a person I couldn’t get along with even if at the end of the road I was the only one to walk away.” A shrug accompanies that statement. “With that I’m off to sleep, I gotta get up early to get our breakfast because it ain’t gonna get itself.” You stand and stretch before heading to your tent, you undress to your long johns and undershirt before lying on your bed roll but not before pulling your 1911 and setting it by you...just in case.

Update Below

Your eyes snap open, the nightmares doing away what rest you achieved. The sun as usual for you is just peeking over the horizon with razor thin rays punching through the leafless trees around you and the camp, there is a low fog around you something not unusual. Those who are with you still sleep, some snore some silent but none awake while the fire or what was left send wisps of smoke into the air. 

The ash is easy to move and the pain that shoots up your arm confirms that you have reached the still smoldering coals underneath, a bit of grass, twigs then wood gets the fire going once again. A rumble of your stomach alerts you to the need for food luckily the area around you had a plentiful bounty for you and the others. To your east lies an old quarry, it was being filled before the fall but the collapse of government infrastructure put a stop to that but for you the quarry housed a prize, hogs.

The feral hog population had exploded without anyone to blunt their numbers as had been the case with wildlife management services and while this meant any farmers who made their living outside the trade city walls faced an ever constant nuisance it also meant that the city itself had a self sustaining food source though you still needed to hunt and kill the damn things. The creatures had made the old quarry their living space with at times during the summer months sounders of hogs numbering in the hundreds could be seen going in and out of the old quarry, some questioned why their was still such a large quantity of vegetation around if that many hogs called the old quarry home, you weren’t one of those people.

You stand, putting your clothes on and grabbing your 1911 plus the 30-30 you make your way out of camp and towards the quarry, it was about half a mile away over flat ground so for you the trip to would be short. It took a few minutes but you found yourself only fifty feet from the entrance of the quarry itself when a young, lean looking boar came trotting out from behind the worn down gate.

“Perfect.” You say under your breath as the rifle is shouldered and in one smooth movement the trigger is pulled followed by the recoil and the hog falling where it stood.

You are upon the dead creature in an instant, dragging it away from the spot it fell. The 30-30 round had made a clean hole through its shoulder and into its lungs and heart or at least you assume that though the way it fell suggests you may have severed it’s spine as well but those thoughts are soon lost to you as you set about gutting it, your toothpick bowie is enough to start the cut to get unzip the skin but it is much too large for the more delicate work that is soon to come luckily you have a small skinning knife just for hunting.

A few cuts here and there, two placed to sever bits of sinew and then the guts become loose. You pull them out before lifting the hog’s body by its forelimbs to drain the blood onto the gut pile, the next step is getting it to camp. You lift the hog with relative ease as it couldn’t of been more than one hundred pounds and you were carrying it on your shoulders.

As you approach the camp you see that all of the squad members were up and on alert from the gunshot they do relax when they see you walking back with a dead hog on your shoulders, you get to the center of camp and drop the boar by the fire before taking your rifle and working the action to eject the spent shell then topping the tube magazine off with another 30-30.

“What was that all about!” Aubrey asks with a angry tone and a tired look, Jackson had a similar look. You wouldn’t be surprised if they all had been looking forward to some days of extra rest after their stay in the Trade city.

“Well I’m sure you would like to eat something other then preserved meat and dry fruit?” The work of cutting stips of meat out of the boar’s torso was familiar work to you as a job or two may have been undercover as a butcher and cook for a rather wealthy family back in the Trade city. “Plus I am not sure weather we will be able to get fresh meat after today, pickings are slim this time of year outside of city walls. The closer we get to St. Louis the less wildlife we are going to see that is free for the taking, there are settlements along the way but their status is always in the air. For all I know all of them have been taken out by raiders and if not they may just not be in the selling or trading mood.” the words roll off your tongue as you break wood skewers to roast the meat on.

The others come and grab them to hold over the fire, you take a few yourself. “We won’t be able to take much of the meat so eat what you can because the rest is going to be left for the other hogs.” The sound and smell of pork was filling the air around the small camp and while Aubrey and Jackson seemed rather upset at their sleep being interrupted they came around along with the others, they all started talking to each other about what you did not know nor did you attempt to listen in you merely ate in silence.