Highwayman encounter
As the trio rides through the wasteland, the already setting sun slowly sets below the horizon, and the gnarled shrubbery and an occasional rock start casting their long shadows in the dying rays of light.
But the figures in the way ahead clearly aren't rocks, Quinch thought. Glancing at his co-travelers, he sees he is not the only one who reached that conclusion. A casual observer would have noticed nothing; a slight change of the stance, a clenched jaw... but someone who travels the wasteland must know how to see the little things.
"Who are those?" thought Quinch as they cut their speed a little. "We're still too far from Reno... the families don't send out their patrols this far out." As the group came in the full view, he realized who they were.
"Highwaymen," he thought as he saw the tattered clothes, do-it-yourself rifles, ancient combat knives, scars and crude tatoos on their bodies. Barely anything more than savages with firearms, bands of them roamed the wasteland, occasionaly coming to the nearest town to trade their loot...
The trio came to a stop in front of them. "There was no way to bust through them, Quinch thought. "Unskilled as most of them were, they still had enough brains to aim and pull the trigger, and to go around them we should've detoured before we came into range."
They looked at each others in silence. Quinch didn't move his head, but his hand moved slowly and silently to his '44 by his side, and his eyes, hidden behind the shades quickly scanned the surroundings.
"Onetwothree... eight of them, the one with the rifle must be their lea..."
"Hey!" His thinking was interrupted by Caesar's voice, booming in the silence of the dusk. "Move your asses, you're in our way."
In the corner of his eye, he saw Ratcatcher shift slightly. In front of himself, he saw Caesar *tense*.
The signs of men preparing for battle.
--- OOC ---
Okay, this is from my character's point of view. If you think I should change something, just let me know.
