It'd been one of those nights, Nine was wasted, and was being taken to a spare room that was yet being rennovated. It was a mean night and nobody felt like taking her home just yet, what with the black out and the gangs that seemed to be warring right outside the door. Gnat carried her over his left shoulder as Mike walked up ahead, rattling keys and shaking his head about elves thinking they could drink. He fumbled a bit with the keys before pushing the door open to the room within, and with a bit of ducking, Gnat brought Nine inside the room, despite her half-conscious comments about not being drunk. Mike grabbed a waste can, laying it at the foot of the bed while Gnat laid her down. "You suppose we should undress her... for comfort...", Gnat asked, though the look in his eyes indicated he'd be happy to undress her for any reason, however, Mike understood that Nine wasn't the only one who'd drunk a bit too much, and blew it off as he covered her with a rough feeling military blanket. "Let's get out of here before you actually start to think about that..." he comments with a grin which was reciprocated by Gnat. Together they left, Mike locking the door behind him then following Gnat back to the bar. The Telecom was still off, the static silenced automatically. The phone rang, a bizarre thing in itself at 3am, but Mike answered it as Gnat picked up where he'd left off on his current glass of nuclear waste. It was Joe, Mike's contact on the Lone Star side of things...

"Mike", Joe asked with a nervous sound in his voice, "we got serious problems... you probably ain't heard yet, but the city is quarantined, and the army has blocked us in, some serious drek seems to have gone down, and I need a place to take my family that's a bit more secure. Howza bout you let me hang at your place until this blows over, your walls are a helluva lot better than this drek place I'm in, whaddya say?", Joe being nervous was a bit unnerving in itself, of course Mike had no objections, and was quick to let Joe know that, but if it was enough to make Joe nervous, he'd better make some calls and get some of his old friends over here and stat.

Baker, Graves, and Locke were all called, and they seemed to all already know something was up, with the lawlessness that was hitting the streets in their neighborhood, and truth be told, lying up at Mike's place sounded alot better than current locale. To hell with the material stuff, living was more important, and the air was just wrong. Everyone living within a few blocks of Mikes, few being defined as less than 20, within the hour the friends were together, including Nick who'd come down from upstairs where he'd set up camp some months ago. Apparently the noise was a bit much for sleeping, and something was just wrong.

Eric walked into the bar, haggard and obvioulsy worn out. He walks over to the bar and nods to the bartender. After knocking back a shot, a rare thing for Eric, he turns and shakes Mike's hand. "Thanks for the invite. My neighborhood was getting scary. So, anybody know what's going on? I heard everything from some kind of disease killing thousands to a terrorist group threatening to detonate a nuke. Whatever is going on, law and order is out the window." Eris pauses, rembering the car he had passed on his way here. A man and his family had been slaughtered, their bodies burned to crisp black shadows and left like so much refuse. He shook his head, "Listen, I have to get my family settled in. Is there some place you have set up or do we crash where there's space?" The door opens and an attractive young woman carrying a sleeping toddler in her arms walks in. She scans the room until her eyes fall on Eric's back. She moves nervously across the room and touches his shoulder. "Eric? What's going on?" she says. Eric turns, kisses her on the cheek. "Steph, I'd like you to meet Mike Hennessey. He owns this place and has offered to help us out." She turns and smiles at Mike. "Thank you for your kindness Mr. Hennessey. Your generosity will not be forgotten." She move toward the door cooing to her child.
Eric watches her leave, for a moment whatever burdens he carries lifted from his shoulders. The door, hydraulic closer hissing, swings closed and Eric's shoulder once again droop under the weight of duty. He turns again to Mike. "Again, Mike, thank you. I'm going to find a corner to put my family." He shakes Mike's hand and leaves the pub...

"Come in, Come in, Corporal Nick Hagvas, Knight Errant Fast Response Team Bravo 43g2, badge number 5543FRT43 over. Come in...." Nick's voice trails off as he heads upstairs.

Nick is back down again a few minutes later still wearing his Ares Predators urban brawl jersey and a pair of jeans carrying his combat vest in his hands and his Predator III in its tactical holster strapped to his shoulder. He strides to the bar and leans over to make sure mike has at least his baseball bat. Nick Grabs a beer grins over at Mike "Hey its my night off!" And then stands next to the entrance to the pub. He seems very apprehensive and twitchy his wired reflexs obviously on.

03:12:12 Tuesday 08 June 2064 - 134 S Wabash Ave, Mike's Pub - 1st Floor - Tavern

It hasn’t been more than a couple of hours since she was put to bed when a chime sounds and the elevator doors. No one appears. A groan issues from the dim box and Ana stumbles into the common room looking like the tail end of bad luck. But on her, even that looks good. She seems more than a bit inebriated still, her casual grace a little too casual, her tail working obviously harder to counterbalance soggy steps. She winces at the brighter light of the bar’s dim downstairs common room and shades her brow with a long-fingered hand until she can trigger the manual override on her flare compensators.

“Damn regulator,” she mutters, her cool purring voice a little sloshy sounding around the edges. “Wouldn’t let me sleep this off.”

She collapses into a chair and holds her head in her hands trying to mentally work her way back through the evening, piecing together disjointed memory fragments into some kind of sense. Eric walks in and Ana raises her head. Her breathing halts momentarily as the tension crackling in the room finally registers. Eric’s pretty wife comes in cradling their baby and her gut twists.

She shakes her head, trying to focus and clear her bleary mind. It’s no help. She stands, slowly and nods a greeting to Eric. Nick enters, the burly orc is twitchy and it sets uneasy synapses firing in her hind brain. Which, sad to say, does nothing to sober Ana up.

She looks around at the room various folks crouched over piles of supplies and gear, folks she knows and folks she doesn't. She looks at Mike, “What’s going on, Hen? Why does this place look like a cub scout jamboree?”

Her jaw drops as the news of the quarantine sinks in. She lunges for the trid remote, instantly regretting it as her unnatural augmentations struggle with the sluggish relay of her brain’s impulses. She shakes her head again and thumbs the remote.

Static.

“I wasn’t asleep for more than a couple of hours…” her hand drops to her hip, and gun savvy folk can see that it’s the reflexive move of a person checking a hip holster. She looks down.

Where’s my piece? Dad, Kate. My grandparents... She can barely bring herself to think of the child out there who doesn’t know she’s looking for him. She has no right to be looking for him. She turns to Mike, “How much of the city is closed in?” She slots a pair of chips one each in of a pair of datajacks at her temple and moves back to the others, still sloshy, but struggling to maintain focus.

Mike shrugged, "Sorry, hon. Haven't a clue." He keeps wiping down the bartop with his old rag, not really because it needs it, more out of nervous habbit.

"But I wouldn't worry. They must be going hell bent for leather to straighten this whole mess out. It couldn't last more then a day or so right?"

Thinking about it a little more he gets out from behind the bar and walks over to the front door and opens it. Peaking his head outside he takes a quick look up and down the now quiet steet. Off in the distance, between the buildings, he could see the glow of fire and his hightened hearing could pick up distant gunfire.

He was glad that he had already droped the steel shutters across the windows earlier, and now he reached up to the hanging wire and pulled shut the metal grid that covered the doorway. Locking it he closed the door and bolted that too. Sadly he reached up and flicked off the power to the "open" sign. He turned and looked at the collection of friends and family gathered around the room,

"Drink's are on the house..."

Nick seems to untense the instant the click of the bolt is heard. "Hell Mike, on the house you said?" Nick walks over to the bar and starts searching.."Mike where is the REAL rum at?"

He then finds a seat at an unoccupied table and starts to drink. Every so often he mumbles to himself obviously trying to talk to someone on his head ware radio.

04:48:32 Tuesday 08 June 2064 - 134 S Wabash Ave, Mike's Pub - 1st Floor - Tavern

Ana nods at Mike, smiling weakly as she dials her father’s number. Kate answers, her thin voice clipped and proper. “Hello… Ana! I’m a wreck! We’ve been trying to reach you!”

Ana closes her eyes and sees the blinking message light in the corner of her vision. Oh. Her head gives a gloating throb and she bites back a groan.

“Are you alright?” Kate’s voice is urgent and brittle.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. How’s dad?” Her face sharpens in alarm as she listens to Kate shrill into the phone and then softens visibly, “Yeah, put him on.” She pauses, eyes flicking across the bar, she slips into a flowing lilting speech that is pleasant to listen to despite the tension of the brief conversation. Sperethiel. The connection cuts off and she stops abruptly. "Hello? Dad? ...Hello?"

She looks at Mike as the steel door drops and quails at his offer of free drinks. “My folks were visiting my grandparents," she looks up at Nick and a look flickers between them, "Bunch of old people, virtually no security…”

“Give me a minute.” She calls to Nick and heads upstairs muttering under her breath in something that isn’t English. She’s back down stairs in a moment, satchel slung crossways across her chest, tail still working overtime to stabilize her wobbles. She thrashes at her hair with both hands and it falls in a fine, ruffled flare around her face. Gun savvy folks can now spot that she’s moving like someone carrying a piece of death on her hip.

She shakes her head and the wisps settle in a neat mess, just so. "I'm ready. Let's roll." She bangs on the door and looks expectantly at Mike.

"Well hell Ana , I was gonna wait for daylight," of course Nick would never live it down if anything happened to any of those old people because he waited,"Yeah give me about 5 minutes myself better put the uniform on definitely get less trouble wearing that."

Nick heads up to his apartment, and in 5 minutes is back down wearing his uniform (full security armor, helmet in his hand) His shotgun must have been left upstairs but he is carrying the large riot shield and has his baton, cougar fine long blade and plastisteel restraints dangling from the combat vest his predator III still in the shoulder holster.

"We Walking or SOMEBODY want to give us a ride?" He searches the bar for any other volunteers.

Eric and Stephanie walk down to one of the rooms near the end of the building. He peeked in, looking to see if it was occupied, and nodded toward the door. "Looks like this one's empty." And walks in. The room looked to be in good repair, if small for Eric's family. Maybe Mike has bigger rooms. I'll have to ask later, when things calm down.
"How long are we going to be here?" Stephanie asked. She walked around the room, ubviously unhappy. It wasn't home. It wasn't hers. Eric looked on sadly as his wife probed the boundaries of her new universe. He left, eyes welling up, and walked back where his mother and his in-laws waited. Pull the cars around here, the last two doors are ours. He pulled his '59 around and began unloading it. Twenty minutes, a few bruised finger, and much sweat later, Eric and his family were settled in. Not the Ritz, but it'll do.
There was still a lot to unpack, but that could wait for tomorrow. "Steph, I don't know how long we will be here. But it's not so bad. Mike is a good guy, I mean he called US remember? This will blow over and we can go back to our lives. But right now we have to be patient. Go get some sleep." Stephanie's eyebrows shot up like a spring loaded trap. "What about you? You need sleep too. Come on, come to bed." She dragged at his arm. Eric shook his head. "I can't. If this is as bad as I think I have a lot of work to do. The others will have families and I don't think they are all here. I have to help if I can. Go to sleep and tomorrow we'll try to make some plans." His kissed her softly and walked out the door.
His father-in-law was standing on the roof of his car when Eric walked by. "What can you see, Ed?" He said. The man looked much older today than he did yesterday. He climbed down and looked at his son in law and sighed. "I haven't seen a single police car since this morning. Eric, I don't mean to question your decisions but how well do you know this guy?" Eric smiled. "Mike is a good guy, Ed. He and I have some history." Ed nodded, understanding he meant extra legal history, and left it at that. "Ed," Eric began "I have to do what I can to help. Keep an eye on them for me." Ed bobbed his head, too emotional to speak. Eric stopped at his car and pulled the pistol concealed under the seat.
He strapped the tactical holster to his hip and walked back to the pub where he found the door locked. He rapped on the door with the back of his hand. "Mike, Mike it's me Eric. Open up!" He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone banged back...

"...Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression
No expression

Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow
No tomorrow..."

The hauntingly enchanting rendition of the song echoing around the bar is briefly interrupted by the sloppy sound of the vocalist guzzling down another mouthful of beer.

"...And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
'cause I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very very
Mad world
Mad world
Mad world
Mad world..."

Gnat blinks several times in succession as he stares blankly at the empty glass sitting smugly on the counter before him. He discovers with shocking suddenness that he no longer remembers his own name. He could feel something vaguely important lingering on the foreign borders of his consciousness, tugging and snatching at his mind, trying to seize his attention with little avail. The young man tries to focus himself, but his thoughts swim together and dissolve like sugar particles in water. Gnat snarls and points an accusing finger at the empty mug on the counter.

"This is all your fault."

The mug sneers with contempt and sticks out its tongue at him. Gnat growls. His hand arcs down to his waist and snaps back up with his pistol in tow. The muzzle of his gun blazes once, and the empty beer glass explodes into a thousand glistening shards with a shrill death scream. Gnat holsters his pistol and grins lopsidedly, bleeding from a small cut underneath his left eye where a rebellious piece of glass shrapnel grazed the skin.

"That'll teach you...you..."

Gnat's declaration of victory is cut short as his consciousness suddenly flees him without warning. He topples off the stool he was sitting on and sprawls across the dirty floor of the bar. A few moments later, he begins to snore softly.

A large ork turned up at the gates, a crying human girl riding piggyback on his shoulders. He is wearing some very heavy security armor and carring an assault rifle. He will bang on the gate, shouting "Come on, Mike! It's Locke, let me in!" If that doesn't work, he will use his signal locator to try to find any radios in the building, and then broadcast the message to them.

Joe arrives at Mike's place with his wife Connie and daughter Charm in his red Honda 3220 ZX - a car he loves. He parks his car and gets inside.

Joe is a short man with strong shoulders and a large jaw. He has short black hair and deep brown eyes and he must be in his thirties. He's wearing a Lone Star Security Armor at this time, with the helmet off. You also see a holstered Predator at his belt and a holstered rifle in his back. His lovely wife is slightly younger than him and his daughter must be about 8.

"Hello Mike, thanks for letting us stay here. I see a lot of people I don't know here, but I'm looking forward to meeting all of you.

"From what I've gathered, I fear that the situation is quite bad and getting worse. Most people I've been able to talk to were implying that this quarantine might last for a while, although I have no confirmation yet. I know who to call to try to find out exactly what's going on."

Again, Joe seems quite nervous. You can see that he is very worried for his family and that he's very serious and focused.

After being introduced to a few of Mike's friends, Joe asks for the best place to put the car and where his family and himself will be able to stay. They brought quite a lot of stuff from their home and so they move it in from the car up to the second floor where there should be a free room for them. The room is quickly filled with a bunch of more of less useless stuff they thought they'd use. It's obvious that they are planning to stay here for a long while.


Later on, sitting at the bar and drinking a beer, Joe calls Commissioner Donald O’Connor on his cellphone to ask him what the frag is going on. Strangely enough, he has decided to keep his armor and weapons on for now, just in case.

Nick jumps at the sound of Gnats thunderbolt. Thank you lord for giving me the foresight to turn those fraggin wired reflexes off! I promise I'll make it to church this week.... ok some time this month... well maybe just on Easter and Christmas. He walks over to Gnats now crumpled body laying in the puddle of beer on the floor. I wonder if he thought he got the beer in his mouth? He easily picks him up and moves him into one of the booths in the corner. "Mike if you give him anything but soycaf when he wakes up I swear to god.... I think were gonna need him tomorrow."

Nick hears the banging and yelling at the door and looks for approval from Mike. Upon receiving it he lets the others in. "Are the streets ok?" He ask each newcomer as they enter, "Ana and I are planning on making a short trip."

Hearing the banging on the gate Mike makes his way over to the door and, after a quick check to see who it is, he unlocks the door and gate and pushes them open.

"Come on in... Glad you guys made it ok." He gives them a hand with their things and introduces himself to the family members he hasn't met. "Make yourselves at home. Drop your stuff anywhere right now, we can sort it out later or in the morning."

"Joe, can you try the radio behind the bar and see if you can pick up any of the stations. Maybe some of the out of town ones. let's try and find out what's happening before anyone starts to panic."

He jumps as Gnat shoot's the glass, "Fraggin' hell. Will somebody get that bastard's gun away from him before he hurts someone, or so help me I'm going go and get my Bessie and tap a number on his skull." He watches as Gnat then passes out and falls off his chair, "Or maybe I won't have too... Someone go pick him up." He shakes his head in disgust.

He takes a hard look at Ana and Nick as they walk up ready for action, "And where do you think you guys are going?"

In the dream, he is shooting. Bam! Bam! Bam! He pulls the trigger once more only to be answered by a soft, sorrowful click. His fingers move fast as he ejects the clip and slaps in a new one. He continues firing away with deadly precision, and his enemies continue to die as his bullets punch through their carapace to tear at the black lifeforce hiding inside them. But there are so many. For every one that drops, three more scramble over the corpse to come at him. Eventually, his pistol runs dry again, and he reaches for another clip to find that he has no more. And still, they keep coming, stoic, persistent, ruthless.

He runs.

Discussion seems to revolve primarily around familes as the night drags on into the wayward hours of the morning. Even Gnat awakens in time for most of the discussion, and all the family members agree that the most important thing is family and provisions. The streets, by morning almost seem civil, and there is no doubt that the early morning is the best time to get provisions. Attempts to contact family members have thus far failed, and it's unlikely that anyone is where you expect them with the violence of the night. First priority is to get some supplies so the weaker links in the group, the families, can defend themselves. A local hardware store, or sporting supply store (or both) seem to be the preferred spots for the 'team' to hit. Supplies right now are paramount, even if it's nothing more than hunting bow and arrows.

When he's let in, he will hoist the child off of his shoulders and tells her not to go outside. When asked about the nature of the streets, he replies "No, they're not. My ex-wife, and the mother of my daughter, was killed by gangers on the way over. That was the last mistake they made."

Mike pulled open the door only to be suprised, Eric stood about two meters from the door, gun in hand, looking for all the world a bull getting ready to charge. Mike's left eyebrow arched high over his eye, "Just what do you think you were doing?" He said levelly, doing his best not to laugh. Though Eric did work with the police department, Mike knew that the gun was mostly for show. Eric straightened himself, shrugged and replied "I heard a shot. I thought you might need help." Mike just shook his head. "I appreciate the gesture but the door is armored. It'd take a lot more than your buck and a half to take it down." Eric grinned sheepishly, holstered the weapon and followed Mike inside. As he crossed the threshold, secretly happy it was Mike that had opened the door (thus saving him some embarrassment), he heard Mike's voice "And where do you think you guys are going?" Eric stepped inside to see Ana and Nick, geared up and walking toward to door. "What's going on? Are you guys leaving?" He sees Ana's pained expression and knows. She has someone still out there Eric thought of his own family, out there, without him, and asked "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Sure Mike, I'll do that" Joe replies. He's trying to call people he knows from Lone Star and using the radio to listen to the frequencies generally used by Lone Star.

Able walked down the center of the abandoned street. The reports of wide scale rioting and looting where true, but come hell or high water was any of it happening on CATco turf while he was still walking. The remaining members of his support team where scattered, many grievously wounded, all battered and beaten. In any case all of red element was dead, and no one from blue element was still with it enough to answer the comm. The smoke coming from the block that used to house HQ was just one more reason that the radio was dead. Flipping channels yielded mixed results, many being dead, or filled with desperate calls for help. Or the booming commands that no one was to leave the quarinteen area under penalty of death. The army was ringing the city with guns drawn.

The news coming in from the sorted sources was nothing but bad. Someone had detonated a thermo-nuclear device and it hadn't leveled the city, but had forced those... things, out. And those things where ripping though gaping sections of the citys population.

Able reached the end of the block, and turned to see one brave person picking a lost tire iron up with all intents of throwing it though the plate glass window of the RadioHut. The counter in the corner of his vision read single digits as his fingers wrapped around the grip of the standard issue Ingram. The draw was automatic, keeping close to the translucent riot shield strapped on his right arm, and two bright yellow streaks zipped into the body of the law breaker. The distinctive cracks of super velocity automatic fire echoed on the now empty street. The clip fell free and clattered to the pavement as the muscle memory kicked in as another long clip replaced it. The flashing zero was replaced by a green sixty. He only had 3 reloads left now. Able zoomed in and saw that the heat signature had spread in an area several feet behind the former suspect. "Code 4" he whispered.

They are all dead aren't they. No way Rat is still around, the sewers have to be crawling. Black? I heard his entire squad was ambushed. Sarah lived right on top of where they say the bomb was. Rachel's building was one of the ones that is defining the QZ, maybe she got the kids out...

It suddenly stuck him. He was going to die alone, and it was one of those things that was going to do what they did to Parker, King, and Lebowitz. He collapsed on a wrecked truck and broke down. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to get old and fat, and be the district sargent, and then get his gold watch and retire. Now he was going to die in a spray of blood and gore. Pull your ass together fuckwit. Get up, find a phone, and find cover. Go home, get food, get the gun, get more socks. And find someone to hole up with until this blows over. Survive first, then find Mary and Adam.

The apartment block was still there, but with no power. Twelve floors of stairs left his quads burning under the added weight of the security armor. He found his door still closed and locked, thanks mostly to the old fashioned dead bolt above the normal mag lock. His apartment was dark, the dawning sun sending little tendrils of light in between the smoke of the city sprawling across the floor. The gun safe in the hall had opened when the power failed, showing the silver of the suitcase that was his baby. It had cost him a month of overtime to get, and another month of careful arraignment to get in contact with. He left it, along with the ballistic resistant shield in the hall. He packed five days of clothes, and all the socks he had, slipping the photographs of his kids and ex-wife next to the one of his girlfriend in the soft center of the rucksack. He put his duty vest and dress blues on top of the pile. The duty pistol and badge went into the provided spots in the weapon harness and body armor. The little food he kept in the 3 room apartment was mostly left over take out. He drank the last Labats, ate the last slice of pizza, shouldered the pack aginst his harness picked, up the silver suitcase and the riot shield and took one last look at home.

Dawn had broken, but the streets where still empty, devoid of anything living. Able walked west, away from the smoke that used to be HQ, and carefully scanning for any traces of living people. Blocks passed before one looked like it still had power, and judging from the Red Honda parked out front, it still had people.

He walked to the door and swallowed his fear before knocking his gloved hand aginst the solid wood panels.

Nick gives Ana a shrug of the shoulders. All the new arrivals have delayed their leaving and now the first rays of the morning sun are seeping through the high rise buildings around the pub and soaking the street in a loving light. Hiding at least part of the misery in the streets and providing a calm in the middle of the storm that is the containment zone. It seems like a good day to die. Hopefully I wont have to.

Nick waits for Ana to take the lead role in explaining their goal. He has never been one for public relations. And I know she uses some code name or handle when dealing with people she doesn't know, better not fragg her off by using it her real name unless she volunteers it first. To many unknown here. Glad Mike knows so many people but I wonder how many of them are trustworthy.

Gnat groans as a ray of sunlight from the cockcrow skyline slips in through the door as it is opened for yet another new arrival and releases its warmth across the side of his face. He slowly opens his eyes and sits up, steadying his mind to regain his bearings and sense of reality. A small wave of nausea turns in his abdomen and he jerks to the side to vomit, but his stomach merely churns maliciously and fails to make good on its threat.

"Oh shit!"

Gnat scrambles to his feet as the events of the past day suddenly return to his memory with full force. He quickly checks his belt holster to make sure that Jane is still by his side. Looking wildly around the bar, he sees many somber faces that he does not recognize, but they're the least of his concerns at this moment. Gnat pulls his cell phone out of a pocket and speed-dials his parents' home phone number. Nothing but static greets him. He tries again with his grandmother. More static.

You fucking idiot, why the hell did you go get yourself drunk at a time like this?

Some sort of military men had forcibly restrained him last night when he tried to leave the bar, but God help the arrogant pricks if they tried it again. Without even bothering to address any of the other people in the bar, Gnat walks to the door, yanks it open, and steps outside, his skin tinged orange as he, too, is caught in the sea of ghostly dawn bathing the morning streets.

Locke follows Gnat, his HVAR drawn, and his eyes scanning the street for any danger.

"What the frag do you think you're doing?!"

"...Going to see if my folks are okay," Gnat replies distractedly as he looks around the street, wondering if he should hoof it all the way to his parents' house on foot or try to hijack a vehicle.

"Calm down ... first lets get that little'un to a parental figure Ill take her up stairs," Nick puts on his best nonscary orc face, "and whats your name sweetheart? Do you like cookies? Im gonna take you upstairs and you can meet my wife... what little'un?... Oh her name is Kirstin . You two can make cookies and I bet there are lots of toys......" Nicks voice trails off as he walks up the stairs to his apartment. He is back down again in less then a minute.

"O.K. any other little ones with no parental types?...No good not trying to run a day care." Nick looks around.."I guess we are about to mount an impromptu rescue mission to a nursing home a few kilometers away." Nicks eyes become pleading," As it stands now its just me and nine, we been delaying all night with the arrivals that keep coming in. We'll take any help that any of you can offer. Be it an extra gun or just information. I suppose well try to scavenge a bit if we have time on the way back. And Gnat well be more than happy to swing round your parents way if you want to tag along."

After hearing what the others have to say Nick addresses Mike privately

Gnat turns around when he hears his name and the words that follow it. He pauses - his anxiety wages a fierce battle against his common sense as he turns Nick's proposal over in his head. After giving the ork a good, long look, he shrugs.

"I suppose three guns are better than one, especially since we don't know the situation out there. All right, we'll go together."

He gives the man a sideways glance. "You sound like Nick, but I really can't tell with you dressed up from head to toe in your fighting outfit. Do you really think that's necessary?"

Nick is about to answer when he notices the CatCo security officer standing just outside the door. "Um hello.. been kinda busy in here all night," he is obviously searching for the right words to say Normaly when 2 guys in security armor meet its either same team or start shooting. Thank you god for reflex triggers really I am going to go to church...if there one left! " long way from CatCo aint you?"

"Eric huh, yeah I'm Nick and thanks man." He listens to the conversation between Eric and Ed and when its finished he interjects,"the vehicle is a no go right now best to leave it here. This block is clear but what if there are wrecks or something that block us on the way. I think its better tactically to be on foot at least getting there. Not to mention there will be too many of us to fit. Now if we come across a bus on the way." I've never been that lucky, but God you been being pretty generous if your giving me a streak just keep it coming my main man. Nicks eyes light up when Eric pulls out the shot gun. He instantly looks the gun over and starts calculating the mods hell make to start paying Eric for his help. I just hope he know how to use it. Personalized grip, throw on an underbarrel weight, shock pads for the folding stock. I got all that stuff upstairs right now... slow down Nick lets get the families all safe first then you can enjoy working on a virgin shotgun! Hell Ill build a damn church if I can't find one God!

04:40:45 Tuesday 08 June 2064 - 134 S Wabash Ave, Mike's Pub - 1st Floor - Tavern

Ana frets her hangover away waiting for the light of dawn and hopefully a little fresh quiet over the city. She concedes to that it may be best to wait for the light, but it doesn't feel right. She takes shifts at the various scanners and commlinks and radios, trying to cobble together a signal booster from the gear on hand, more to keep her hands busy and her mind off of other places.

"We have to know what's going on," she bursts out at one point. I can't stand being blind here. Cooped up like a rat. Damnit. She paces, tail swishing back and forth with her long-legged strides. She tries her phone again. An idea springs to mind... she pauses and her eyes unfocus as she stares at data on her image link.

Nope... nope. Not there. Bingo! And not that far away...

She brightens, "At some point, if we can get to a broadcast station, I can get comms working. Maybe we can set up a bit of pirate radio."

Unless the army's squatting across everything... she purses her lips. Eyeing all the menfolk in their security garb Ana looks down at her swank street clothes. She bites her lower lip and vanishes upstairs again. When the elevator chimes she steps off swinging a long gray cloak around her shoulders. She settles the hood more satisfactorily around her shoulders and checks her weapon again, pulling the cloak back momentarily to reveal a set of well-maintained form-fitting armor.

She taps her temple, "It's no Battle Tac, but there's an awful lot more here than even Battle Tac has access to." She grins. "Let's make a plan, hey? First we need comms, which have been seen to." She nods appreciatively to Nick. She slots her phone and links up the micro transceiver and subvocal mic.

<<Testing, testing. Hijack, jack, jack hammer. Hammerhead. Don't rush off, gents. We need to be cool about this.>> She looks expectantly at the others to see if the comms transmits. I can fine tune this later. Good enough for now.

"Alright," she switches the leads in her temple from phone to pocket secretary and flips puts the tiny unit on the table holding out her cloak. A small oculus on the p-sec irises open and a high-res image of Chicago from the air leaps into view. Zooming in several stages, "We're here." She points at a blinking representation of the pub. It appears to be very current. But everything's in Russian. "My family is here. Nick's too. Between here and there are some places we should consider stopping. Or avoid completely."

Zooming out several places along a two possible routes to the nursing home start to blink. A construction site. Two grocery stores. A fuel cell charging station.

"Here is the broadcast station I was talking about. It's out of the way, but something to think about. I've got some friends that I'd like to get in touch with that maybe can help us. They're here. And here. And here."

Several spots light up at remote locations. "Who knows if they're even in here with us."

She shakes her head, layers of herself dividing. One plans, methodical, methods, approaches, possible obstacles, everything pouring out of her mouth smoothly, naturally. Another feels like it's floating beside her, not connected to anything that's happening. It chants a litany of disbelief and shock. I can't believe this. What is happening? Quarrantine? Against what? I can't hide. Where can I hide. I can't believe this. The litany continues as she discusses plans with the boys.

"We've got a lot of things to think about, gentlemen. And a lot of other folks out there thinking the same things we are. We have to be smart about this. We don't know what's out there. Eric. Nick. You've both got level heads on your shoulders. I can handle mundane recon, comms and intel, but I nominate one of you to be our brains. If things are as bad as I'm afraid they are we're gonna need someone that we can all look to." She looks between the ork and human.

"Either way, we need to find out what's out there. Let's make a circuit of the block and see what we turn up. Then we'll start heading north, and then west, towards the construction site." She points at the image and nods. The p-sec whirs momentarily and the image vanishes. She swaps the leads of her secretary and commlink again. She pulls the hood over her head and vanishes from normal sight. And even some augmented site. Her astral form radiates a brittle tension and smells of fennel.

<<Ready. Nick, Eric. Assign a team to go and a team to stay. And then take us out there.>>

She waits while the marching order is sorted out and then follows her team leader out into the street. <<All clear this way.>> She begins a clockwise sweep of the block, eyes sharp, senses natural and boosted straining for a hint of danger.

Mike nods to Nick, taking in what he is saying. He then watches the new arrivals introduce themselves, "I could have sworn I locked that door..." He mutters under his breath, then forces a smile on to his face, "Howdy."

He watches the youngsters, taking in their talk and bravado for a moment, before clearing his throat.

"Guys, hang on a sec. Let's think about this for a moment rationally, OK? If you go rushing off half cocked, your going to end up fully dead."

He walks around the bar and address the room.

"We need a plan people. And despite what many of you seem to think rushing off in full armor and loaded with ammo and guns isn't a plan. That may work in your normal jobs, but this ain't hardly the same thing."

He's really getting into this now, playing up the roll of grizzled veteran.

"look at what you've just said. "Go on foot?" How the hell do you expect to get a bunch of elderly folks back here on foot? If they are in a damn nursing home already, they ain't going to be walking back here. They'd go so slow we'd be sitting targets in any situation going on out there. Hell, we don't even know if the damn nursing home is inside of the containment zone they've got set up."

He begins pacing, thinking things through, "No, we need vehicles to get there quickly and safely. They can carry extra ammo, weapons and gear we might need. If there isn't enough room for the trip back, then the elderly can go in the cars with an escort, while the rest of us make our way back on foot. Quickly and safely. Also what are you going to do about the rest of the old folks who don't have anyone to look after them? If things are bad out there do you really have it in your heart to just leave them to die? We have to figure out what we are going to do about that. About any other helpless people we come across? Do we just leave them to the wolves? "

"But that ain't enough. We have no idea what's going on out there. if it's a plague or outbreak of some kind, then it is safer for them to stay inside where they have medical attention from the staff. If it's a riot of some sort, it is still safer to be inside where they are until it blows over, rather then taking them out into the streets where we might run into an angry mob."

"But that still isn't enough. What we need isn't guns, ammo or armor. It's information. That's the most vital thing. Information is life in a situation like this. We need to send someone out to do some scouting around. Find out what it's like out there. Maybe reach someone who knows what's going on or has any info at all. Find out if people are gathering anywhere, if shelters have been set up. If medical aid is available or food and water. Find out just how big the containment zone is."

He takes a moment, then, "We also have to stop thinking like it's the old ages. This is the sixth world. Any of you magical type thought to take a spin around the area astrallly? That would give us a hell of a lot of info. It could tell us everything. Especailly if you can get outside the Zone and talk to someone who may know what's going on."

He looks around the room at everyone.

"I say we send out two teams for a quick recon, while the rest of us stay here as security and back-up. And if any of you mage-types go astral we can guard your body. One team should go to high ground, go to the top of the nearest, highest building. Bring along some binoculars and get an idea of what the terrain looks like. What places are trouble, what places look calm, what roads are clear, anything at all. The second team should begin looking over the neighborhood. See if they can find anyone nearby that knows anything. Find places like the Ammo Hut down the street or the corner store and see if the owners are around. No conflict, no looting, nothing like that. Not yet, not until it's necessary."

"I still think this thing will be over soon. No point in reverting to animals and criminals just yet."

He pauses and takes a breath, looking around at the people here. "What do you think? Any volunteers?"

Nick nods to Gnat, Eric, & Nine behind Mikes back a this way type thing and quickly leads them away from the pub. He hugs the sides of buildings his training in grained in his head he probabley never walks in the middle of anything.

With a sudden pop things seem to return to normal no more slow motion as the wired reflexes get turned on. The pistol comes out instantly as if the gun hand needed to be holding something. I'm ready go ahead and try me.

He stops at the end of the block to download the map from Nine to his heads up display. Then seems more at ease his orientation system downloading it from there he continues on his way the route now 2nd hand to him.

A night of planning seems to have paid off nicely, Galyans being about 2 miles down the lake walk to the north, might have most of the provisions you need, though the trek to get there, and the risk of leaving the family behind weighs heavily on each of you. Unfortunately, when you get to the red car parked outside, it appears that during the night, it'd been hit pretty hard, the tires are gone, and the windows are shattered. It's only by luck that Eric's possessions in the car were still there, hidden well enough that the darkness of night prevented them being found, but the car seems useless as-is.

Locke steps in.

"We need to establish a perimeter. Once we do that, we can go after the two most important things for survival: information and supplies. The latter will aid us a lot in attaining the former two. I suggest we strike out for this sporting goods store. I agree with Mike. We need vehicles, so as to facilitate the movement of the supplies we will need. Nine, you are a recon specialist, search the surrounding buildings for supplies and retreat to a different building at the first sign of trouble. Contact us, and we will team up with you to drive the danger away. Once you have confirmed the lack of hostiles in the surrounding buildings, we can go in, and secure any supplies you might find. Once we do this, I would recommend looking for any intact vehicles in the area, and clearing out at least two streets out of here to vehicle-capable status. That way, we will be able to retreat from this building, if neccessary. I'm praying that that won't be. In any case, when we head to the store, we should acquire as much ammunition as possible, as well as cameras, computer equipment, firearms,and basic drones. I can convert the firearms to be fully automatic, and Nine and I can rig them up as smart turrets. I know a rigger. If we can find him, we might be able to convince him to rig our security systems in exchange for protection, shelter, and supplies. With a secure base, we can then go on mission less important to our survival, but more important to our morale."

"There isn't much of CATco left" The voice behind the helmet is a rich deep baritone, with a heavy French Canadian accent.
Its the truth isn't it? Unless the fire suppression systems could completely stop the flames, his building was gone as soon as the fire hit the gun cages. The research compound had the smoldering wreck of a Dragon heavy lift chopper in the side of it, which could blow when someone looked at it strange.
"I was looking for somewhere with other people before I went to try and find my kids. Do you have any more room?"

Able peers over Nick's shoulder into the open bar room and the trained action to want to ask everyone in there for ID and permits for the weapons and visible cyberware hits him square in the face.
No, no, first I'm not on corporate grounds. Second, I'm carrying an unregistered weapon that is on my own Aggressive Action list. And third, the world is going straight to hell. Your not a cop anymore, your trying to survive, just like everyone else.

It takes Ables glance back to Nick to notice the heavy riot gear is Knight Errant issue, bearing the markings of HRT classification. "Lt Able Baker 0135443-8CAo Cross Applied Technologies Special Weapons and Tactics." He snaps Nick a loose salute.

That evening, Joe decided to put some order on the ground floor of the bar. The chaos in the streets was quite frightening and it seemed to him that so kind of basic defense should be set up since so many people were to be kept safe in here - many of which can't defend themselves.

Joe stepped up and talked to the ones present.

"All right everyone. As you might know, the situation in the streets of our great city Chicago is chaotic, at best. There is uncontrolled violence and crime and we need to defend ourselves. For now, someone - ideally two people - must take watch at all times in case criminals or dangerous individuals - or mobs ! - approach this building. Many of us here - even if many are out right now - are trained for combat and can respond to those kinds of emergency. Much better so if we know a few minutes before. My point is that to deal with threats coming our way, we must see it coming in advance. Everyone can help with that and we should probably set the observation spot on the rooftop or at the windows on the second floor. I'll start for now. "

It seemed kind of obvious to Joe that this was necessary and he doesn't really expect that others might strongly disagree with his idea. On the other hand, it doesn't require that many people do the watch. It's just that the more who do it, the more often they can relieve each other.

Also, Joe has set up his sniper rifle and put it all assembled somewhere where it is very unlikely to fall down and 'break' or lose its alignment.

His Remington in hand he goes on the rooftop to see how things could be set up there.

AT HQ:
----------------


"Damn man," Nick starts laughing,"Wow that was the first time I ever been saluted first. Come on in were talking shop perimeter defenses and such. Mike that one over there," He points the dwarf out with thumb over his back," is the owner go take a seat looks like you could use it. And if you feel like you got to anything to add feel free to join in the discussion." Nick sits next Lt. Able and fills him on everybodys names and the jist of the conversation so far.

AT HQ:
------------------------
As the conversations drags on, Nick stands and starts pacing by the door. How can these guys talk so much, plan this plan that. First response thats what I am trained for.. hit them now not later, quick and hard shove it right down their throats and they can't react. They spend much more time planning this and we are gonna get everywhere to late everything gonna be looted and ambushes are gonna be set up. He glances out the door and scans he street hoping something he can respond too is out there....

04:45:54 Tuesday 08 June 2064 - 134 S Wabash Ave, Mike's Pub - 1st Floor - Tavern

Confident that, at least for the moment, the street is clear, Ana answers the team's summons back to the planning table. <<I gotcha. On my way back.>> She moves her hand across her neck in a slashing motion to the guys following her and moves back into the dim of Mike's pub. She pulls her hood back and shimmers into view, her cloak going the flat, dead gray again.

"I'm anxious to see that my family is safe, but it's best if we don't go off half cocked."

Her gaze flickers to Mike and stops. She purs, it seems her voice is always cool and smooth, her English accented very, very slightly. The origin of the accent entirely unplaceable, "Seems we're of a mind, you and I." She flashes a cool smile at the bartender. A smile that is pretty clearly one she uses to get her way. Elusive, inviting and mysterious. But her eyes show more than a little respect. Respect and curiosity about this new Mike who had previously been the guy behind the bar at her favorite pub. The one who served her drinks and was letting her crash upstairs for a month or two.

She cocks her head back and peers at Mike from under lowered lashes for the span of a couple heartbeats before the conversation draws her back in.

Ana can't help but feel a rising alarm at the growing number of corporate law enforcers gathered around. Could be good to know these men when this all blows over. She smiles, flashing a grin at Lt. Baker as he settles himself in. She glances at Nick hovering by the door.

Her mouth barely moves and her voice is heard clearly over the comms, << I'm going to head out and do the recon. Joe, I'd appreciate your long range cover. Try not to shoot me, hey? And Nick, you keep an eye out while these others hash out our move north. I'll check in every two minutes starting...>> She lifts her hood and vanishes, a quiet beep is heard, <<Now.>>

05:01:02 Tuesday 08 June 2064 - 134 S Wabash Ave, Exterior of Mike's Pub, surrounding city block

The security door raises and she slips out. Headed counter clockwise around the block, she scans nearby buildings that would make good vantage points. When her circuit is done - she's looking for information on possible threats, security concerns, locations of vehicles and pockets of people - she climbs the tallest building nearby and scans the horizon, viz magnification trying to pick out the most distant details. She relays the data as she finds from that vantage point. She also tries to put in a call to her parents and the nursing home, The Russian, another to Taliq's old friend and still one more to Dr. Nakamura. << Any numbers folks want me to try while I'm, up here?>> She places those calls as well and passes along any messages if she manages to get a message through.

06:40:22 Tuesday 08 June 2064 - 134 S Wabash Ave, Hennessey's Pub

Ericstood just inside the door to the bar, listening. Everyone was on edge, worried about their families, wondering if they were even alive. This is insane! What the hell is going on? They can't just lock the innocents up with the criminals, this was a free country the last time I checked. He listened as those who had family chomped at the bit to be on their way. To go, to DO something. Eric looked at the faces, exhaustion and frustration clearly etched on their faces.
He listened to Mike lay out the truth. It sounded hard, cold, but maybe they needed to hear it. Maybe we all need to hear it he thought. Eric coughed in an attempt to get everyone's attention. "Mike's right. We do need a plan." He looked at Nine and Nick, concern clearly written on his face. "But we also need to move quickly, before the darker elements of society start carving out territories." He looks at Mike for, perhaps permission, perhaps support. "Lt. Baker and Mr. Hagvas are obviously combat and/or police trained. I know that Mike has military training of some sort. The drunk is obviously awakened. Nine and Locke, forgive the gross stereotype, look to be 'runners. Mr. Gordon, we haven't been introduced.
I suggest we spit into teams of two. Mike knows his place and can lead the team to make plans to secure this place. I know explosives but I am also awakened so my talents would be better used elsewhere. If any of you have experience with fortifying a position, it would be well served here. One group needs to scout the immediate area. Determine if there are any obvious threats. Another group should begin making their way to the missing families, get them to a central location along with any materials needed to support them. The last group should find a transport large enough to carry them. I think that gives us the greatest chances. I believe in speaking plainly so here are my thoughts.

Lt. Baker and I will move to gather the families to a central location. He has superior armor and communications. He looks like a police officer which means borderline criminals aren't likely to oppose him. My magical skills will disuade most others. We can clear barriers on the road to allow vehicles to pass.
Mr. Hagvas and (ahem) the inebriated gentleman find out what threats are in the area. Mr. Hagvas' eyes will catch things many of our's won't.
Ms. Nine and Mr. Locke will "acquire" a large truck or van with which to carry everyone. I am, again, making a gross assumption that one of you can hot wire a vehicle. But, am I right?
If this goes well we can all be back here inside of two hours. Hopefully Mr. Hagvas will also find places we can conscript for our use; grocery stores, surplus stores, weapons, electronics etc...

Eric stopped and took a breath. The words just came out all in a rush, as though, if he stopped he wouldn't be able to start again. "Mike, this is your place, your rules, I just wanted to say my peace."

Gnat blinks as he watches the folks in the bar continue to throw in their own ideas while completely ignoring the no less passionate pitches of everyone else in the room. He rolls his eyes, takes out his cell and tries his parents' number again, guided by a foolish hope in his heart that somehow the line will get through this time. No such luck. He sighs and pockets his phone.

They can take care of themselves, ya know. They're probably worried sick about you while holed up in their own little makeshift fortress.

Gnat mentally tells his voice of reason to shut the hell up. He sits down on a chair at the counter and buries his head in his arms, turning over possibilities in his mind to try to come up with a course of action as he patiently waits for the others to finish hashing out their pecking order.

No one ever told Joe about his car until he found out by himself. The man standing on the rooftop, taking a look around, saw his own sports car ruined. He was quite sad, but on the other hand, his house was probably already in worse shape so that wasn't going to shake him too much. He loved his car and this was a tough blow, but people were killed all over town and that was obviously more likely to worry him. He gave a farewell to his car and looked the other way.

Why did I not set up a watch last night instead of this morning... what were we all thinking ?? Was my judgement just gone yesterday?

At HQ
----------------------

Nick walks up to the apartment to switch out some gear. He kisses his wife on he cheek and even eats one of the cookies Lockes daughter and Kirstin made. "You two ladies mind if I take some of these down to the men folk downstairs?" They girls both giggle as he shoves 4 cookies in his mouth at once. He picks up his shotgun and some of the shells and leave the predator III with his wife.

On his way through the pub he stops to listen to several more people make little speaches. "Yeah well Mike you got my vote for leader. Just try to fit a trip in for me and Nine to the nursing home in the next few days. I know She and I are both worried." He glances around the room and reports in "Nine hasn't reported any threats or very much useful info yet. Ill be standing outside the door, just got a bad feeling." Every one is looking at the orc wondering why he is holding a tray of cookies when he walks out the door... but as soon as he leaves the threshold he turns back around"Oh yeah on a lighter note the girls upstairs made some cookies." Nick sets the tray of warm cookies down on the table in the middle of the room.

outside HQ
--------------------------
I hope Nine is ok. Nick glances around then start to circle the building examing the windows and doors then stops at the front door and waits after completeing the circle

Discussion seems to overall agree that a perimeter setup is more important than shopping, even the women folk seem to agree, but despite more than a couple of leader-types in the group, most of the people in the pub seem to look towards Mike for what to do next, as it is his place and he was the one that made the calls to get people here. The families listen to everything everyone says, but seem to wait for Mike to agree with anything.

It's only after a little bit that one of the family members asks what they'll do if something happens when you're gone. Admittedly, morning hours is just approaching, the dark orange hue of a sunrise barely visible on the horizon, and a quick recon shows that the streets are absolutely empty. Within 2 hours, you suspect the whole city will be wide awake and hustling through their daily duties, hoping last night was just a nightmare. Means you have about an hour, at best, before your window of oppurtunity is gone for hitting the store un-hampered. And even that's wishful thinking since it's not likely that the riots last night didn't destroy everything in the store and the surrounding area.

With apt attention to detail, Mike quickly comforts the people remaining behind, and decides that there will be no splitting up of the team until you get to Galyans, and since it's a 2 mile trek, you'd better get kicking it right off the bat.

"Right." Mike says after a few more minutes of listening to everyone's ideas, "I'm not fond of the idea, but I do see everyone's point. We do need to get a hold of some supplies... Just in case this is worse then we think. There's this store just a bit up the road. They should have everything we need for the time being. We can head there. We'll all go, just to be on the safe side. Make's it quicker and we can carry more stuff. No need for a second trip."

Looking around and seeing a general agreement, if not enthusiasm, he continues.

"Ok, we just wait for the scouts to get back then we can go. I'm just going to get some stuff."

With that he heads upstairs to his room to pull out the gear, and the life, he thought was in his past.

After a few minutes he returns, ready to go. Seeing that Ana and the others haven't returned just yet, he passes the time trying to reassure the family members that remain in the pub. Offering them drinks, snacks, and a place to sleep if they need it.

After "doing the rounds" he gets back to the team and talks over some plans with them. "Well, I'll bring my jeep. If you guys get very friendly you should all be able to squeeze in for the trip there. Once we get it loaded up though, we'll have to walk back. I'll drive along side the group on the way back. If things go wrong we can use the jeep as a shield to hide behind and return fire from. Or in a worse case scenario, ditch the loot and pile in for a quick get away. Sound good? 'cause if everyone agrees, then we should get ready and move out."

Action .. we are finally gonna act, thank god Nick waits for the others to pile into the vehicle and then hops in himself trying to grab a seat with good door access (shotgun pointing up at vehicle ceiling). He tries to be ever vigilant on their way. His silence highly unusual for those that know him. I still just have a very bad feeling, something is about to go totaly wrong! Maybe it was those fraggin cookies.

Gnat raises a quizzical eyebrow as he listens to Mike wrap up his spiel. He swerves around on his seat and fixes the bartender a curious look.

"Hey pops," he says. "Are we really going to leave the wifeys and kiddies here alone without any protection?"

"Yah, but we shouldn't be long and things are looking pretty quiet out there right now." He slaps a clip into his rifle, "And too be honest, until this place is fortified, leaving one or two of us here might only draw unwanted violence towards the place, and wouldn't be much help if a mob over ran the bar. No, better all of us go, get a feel for the city and gather what we need. If we move quickly we shouldn't be more then an hour or so. Leaving us plenty of time to make it back before sunrise."

He grabs his car keys from behind the bar and heads for the backdoor and the stairs leading to the secure parking area.

"But if you want to stay, that's cool. Just remember to lock up after we leave and don't open the door for anyone until we get back."

He goes out gets his car and pulls it around front to where a couple of people have already gathered. He keeps the engine running as he waits for everyone to pile in.

05:07:14 Tuesday 08 June 2064 - 134 S Wabash Ave, On the street in Mike's jeep

Ana sweeps the gray cloak off of her shoulders as she slides into the seat behind Mike, hoping to get some extra leg-room behind the dwarf-modded driver's seat. She folds the cloak neatly before she settles herself, fastening her safety belt with a click. She opens her satchel and puts the cloak inside before digging out first one and then another air filter from her satchel. "I grabbed these just in case." She lifts a third filter over her mouth and nose and shrugs. "Better safe than sorry." She hands them out to the first two takers.

"I'm not so sure this is a good idea guys. I mean, what are we really hoping to accomplish? Getting a bunch of tents and energy bars?" She shrugs. "I guess we can hope this place has some walkie talkies we can use, but what I'd really like us to do is get over to that broadcast station..."

There's no real doubt what Ana want's to accomplish at the broadcast station. Please be okay. Please, please. She lets out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding and looks out the window. What is happening? Will we ever really know?

"Hey, Mike - when we get close, let me out. I'll scout ahead and keep a lookout on things."

05:07:25 Tuesday 08 June 2064 - Inside Mike's pub

Gnat shrugs. "I'll tag along. I'm not the one with any family here right now. If the ones that do have 'em are okay with it, then it's none of my business."

He hops off the stool and walks outside, squinting momentarily when he hits the sidewalk as his eyes adjust to the sudden intake of sunlight. Once he reaches the parking area, he climbs inside Mike's land rover and quickly slides into the shotgun seat. Leaning back, he begins to whistle a merry little tune to himself while he waits for the remaining folks still at the bar to finish packing their carrying gear and collect into the jeep.

When Ana brings up the possibility of seeking out the broadcast station, Gnat sits up straight and turns to the elven woman with interest. "Do you happen to know where this station is? Like, right now? Is it far from the sporting goods store that we're hitting?"