Kyle spoke quietly. "I have a car nearby..."

The hunger IS bad. Az is feeling it the worst, but everyone feels the pangs a little. The woman appears slightly relieved and speaks, "My name is Morgan."

"Maybe we'll see ya around Morgan, good luck to ya."

The streets outside are still clear, and Morgan nods to you. "Good luck, guys. You're probably going to need it."

Fink turns back to the rest of the group. "So where we headed?"

"I.. I'm going back to my car. It has medical supplies... I could maybe find out what's making us sick..."

"I have a feeling that whatever it is won't show up on any normal biomonitor. Its awakened in nature, that is for sure. Hey, do any of you guys have Comms? We should get in radio contect, just in case something happens."

"Yes... back in the car. I have radios."

"Ok let's round up all the vehicles, and then decide where to go, I for one am for finding one of the nicer hotels and fortifying the top floor. From there we could make a base and find everything we need. Thats one idea, what do you guys think?" He says as they all head back to the cars.

Kyle started walking towards his car, once more running his list of symptoms through his head. What could possibly be causing all this...

Fink chuckles a bit, "I'm never been in one of them swanky hotels. Sure! Sounds like fun."

The garage is like it was the day before, only darker. The vehicles appear generally unmolested and in their places. Everything seems to be there.

Once everyone is gathered back together and ready for action, Fink asks, "So which hotel should we hit up? I've never spent a lot of time downtown, so I have no idea what to look for."

Skooter excused himself for a bit once the group reached the garage, as he had stashed his own bike, which turns out to be a Dodge Skoot, about half a block away.

He chuckles at Fink's question. "Hell, I dunno, omae. Anybody here ever been uptown? I guess we can just pick the biggest one."

Quite a number of hotels dot the landscape, though the sound of gunfire is echoing from the direction of the largest visible from this area.

Kyle popped the trunk of his car, digging out one of the medkits contained within. Not one of the ordinary ones... if he was going to get any information, he'd need the more powerful medical diagnostics of the special medkits he picked up. Slamming the trunk, he set up the kit and prepared to run a diagnostic on himself.

The small computer of the medkit purrs to itself while working. After a little while, it spits out a report, showing nothing that Kyle wasn't expecting to see on any such scan. Apparently, if there is a medical problem, it is beyond the capacity of the medkit to detect.

Disappointed but unsurprised, Kyle sterilized the equipment and put the kit back into his trunk.
"So where are we going?"

"Anyone know a hotel or building for that matter that is defensible, that would make a good base of operations?"

"I don't really know the out... Seattle that well. Maybe we should just pick a building?"

Kyle searched the horizon for likely-looking structures.

Skooter windes at the sound of gunshots coming from the biggest building. "Any one of them would be fine, but how's about we stay away from the ones with raging firefights going on in them?"

As time is taken to examine the skyline, it becomes clear that there are a few fires throughout the DCZ, as well as more than a few areas which have gotten quite rough. The worst parts of town are those around the hospitals where the few medical personnel remaining in the zone do their best with their dwindling resources. Most of them are street docs who have taken over the buildings as the real tennants fled with the CDC's evac orders. The medical stores were raided early on and quickly abused into short supply. Junkies and scavengers still cling to those areas, wanting another hit and having no where else to turn.

Outside of those, the entire of downtown has become an urban jungle in a true sense. Metahuman bands roam the streets, taking what they can find from anyone not strong enough to hold on to it. The groups appear to be pretty well organized along racial lines, though there is some crossover.

The worst of it all appears to be the dead. No one has been collecting bodies left on the street, either from disease or firefights, and no block is without at least one corpse. Going anywhere may be tough since the streets are half blocked by bodies and other debris.

"Well this place is getting ripe, we should try for a place down on the water front, something defensible, but large enough we don't get trapped in it. Why don't we head for the needle and see what presents itself? at the very least we may be able to scrounge for some food along the way."

"Let's go." Kyle hopped into the car, hooking himself up to the datajack link.

"Sounds good to me," Fink says as he climbs back on his bike and plugs a datacord from his temple into the bike.

"Lets roll!"

Azaezel nods to fink and climbs into the shotgun of Daemons car. Once inside he props his Katana between his knees and leans back to enjoy the ride.

Kyle drove conservatively, following along behind the others, kneeling half-upright on the front seat to see out the window. He let part of his mind wander as he drove, pondering the situation he had gotten himself into.

The small caravan moves unimpeeded for about three blocks. The roads, though choked with debris, can be navigated. At the end of the third block, however, the group rumbles past a burned out shell of a minivan into the intersection only to find the other three ways out of the intersection blocked. The sound of an engine flaring to life behind the group brings some people's attention and those who look see a semi rolling across the street behind. In buildings all around the intersection, faces appear in windows along with gun barrels.

Fink squeeks in fear and calls his spirit forth to conceal him.

Kyle's eyes went wide, and the taste of bile rose to the back of his mouth. He cast about, desperately looking for an escape, while the rational part of his mind analyzed his situation, looking for a tactical advantage.

A feral smile grows on Azaezels face. While he never looked for a fight, his frustration level had climbed to the point where he was eager for it. "Throw it in reverse Daemon, I'll take care of the semi," Azaezel says as he rolls out of the car, Katana held tightly to his body. In a blur he was running, making a be line for the tractor's cab. If they could move that, then the rest of them could get out.

His eyes widening as he mentally curses, Skooter slips off his Dodge Skoot, letting it fall to the ground as he raises his hands over his head, but only as a ruse - he casts Invisibility on himself again, hoping for better luck this time.

The scene in the urban box canyon is tense, but one of the faces in a window above places something to his mouth and begins talking. "Da toll is one medkit, one day of food, one clip of ammulintion, or one gallon of fuel per person."

Kyle's mind races and he quickly realizes that some of the debris which blocked other routes through this part of town must have been deliberately placed in such a way as to herd motorists into this area. The barricades on each side look movable, and foward lookouts probably ensure that the right ones are open at the right time.

Fink kills the engine on his bike and slowly starts to walk it foward, hoping the spirit's concealment will help him out. He takes his time though, waiting to see how the others will react.

Kyle slid over into the passenger seat, grateful for the concealment of the tinted windows. He searched the entrances and exits for points of weakness, seeking an escape. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a little piece of his brain started yelling that Skooter could buy their passage out essentially for free, but it went ignored at the moment in favour of the search for a way out.

The voice once more booms over the megaphone. "Fragger with the bike, we saw you come in. Don't try nothing stupid an' you'll all ride out of here."

Skooter grins at the voice, which has given away that his spell seems to have worked on them this time. But what next? He could levitate over one of the barricades, easy as pie, but that would leave everyone else behind... and leave him scrounging by himself again. Besides, his assumption was that these guys were going to either frag everybody or take all of their stuff. If it's only a toll they want, then it's not so bad. No one's getting his medkit, but if they want food, he can do that easily enough. He'll even put some extra mojo into it so it won't be the usual bland-tasting glop.

He raises his voice. "Guys! Guys! Chill! I'll get us out of here!" He addresses the gunman who was speaking. "Hey, man. As ya can see - or not see, in this case, I'm a mojo-slinger. I'll be takin' care of the toll for our group, here. I got a magic food-makin' thingie with a few charges left on it. I was savin' it for an emergency, but heh, I guess this qualifies, so I'll use it up for you guys. My buds here are kinda psycho an' high-strung, but if ya let me take care of the toll and let us walk out, no one will get hurt."

A few of the faces in the windows appear to relax, taking a less agressive pose. Most of them stay steady, however, and the voice over the loudspeaker rings out. "That's what we want. Magic up enough food, and we're chill."

Taking a deep breath, Skooter drops his invisibility spell. "Okay, I'll use the thingie ta magic up some food. Look, I'm unzipping my bag, no sudden moves - I'm just gettin' it out." Skooter takes out a crystalline dolphin sculpture that he swiped from a Maxi Mart a few days ago. He casts the spell five times for them, creating enough food for 10 people, easily. To make it more believable, he acts like he's going to do it again, then curses that the item is "out of charges", because he wanted to save a few for emergencies.

Kyle listened, his hand still on his pistol from behind the protective screen of the tinted windows, and idly hoped that, like most people, their captors didn't know how magic worked.

Half a dozen gun barrels track Skooter's every movement, though it's clear that most of them are amateurs. Most of the rest of the weaposn remain pointed at the group in general. As the food begins to pile up, relaxation becomes more apparent. "Leave the food and go back to the vehicles. Stay there and don't move!" the voice over the megaphone calls.

There is some signalling between windows and a short individual dressed in several layers of armored vests hops across the terrain between a building and the van making up half of the barricade at the far side of the intersection. He hops in and the engine sputters than roars as he moves it out of the way.

A few seconds later, he goes running back into the building and the door closes. Over the megaphone, the voice replies, "Okay. Go on, and let people know the Four Ways keep their word."

As simply as that, the road ahead appears to be opened.

Kyle's breathing and heartrate slowed towards normal, and he slid back towards the driver's seat, relaxing ever so slightly. He continued to scan the area, alert for anyone who looked like they might be considering reneging on their bargain.

Fink starts the bike back up and drives through, then stops just outside and waits for the others to join him.

Kyle followed close behind, now once again fully seated in the driver's seat.

Skooter follows in his trusty Dodge Skoot, which has a few new dings in it - but he hardly notices that, as his main emotion is relief.

Apparently true to their word, the group gets out of the square without any incident. The last vehicle has barely cleared the exit when people begin to edge out into the street toward their prize. How so little food could hold so many, you don't know, but their toll gate might be getting more business than it seems.

Ahead, the road winds on with more of the same. Some of the same barriers are apparent, though now the man-made look of them is unmistakable. It's quite possible over a square mile of city streets funnel into the intersection behind.

Up ahead, the sounds of gunfire and squealing tires drift on the wind toward the group.

Fink moves on, leading the group towards the old hotel he knows, but he makes sure to go slowly and keeps his eyes open for any signs of danger. From time to time, he switches over to the Astral to see how things are going there.

Kyle multiplied some primes in his head while driving to keep himself occupied.

Azaezel looks over to Daemon, "gun it or pull over an let it pass?" He says to the rigger.

Kyle suddenly remembered something. He flashed his high-beams to the others and pulled over to the side, getting out and waving them over.