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Guest
Guest
It's noon in the wastelands and it's hot like a bakery. The sun has placed itself right in the middle of the sky, so there's not a shadow to hide in anywhere.
Rayne takes a long swig from his canteen and wipes the sweat off his brow. If this heat continues he'll just have to find a shadowy spot and rest until the sun calms down. He can't risk drinking up his water supply.
He puts the canteen back in his belt and lights up a smoke.
Just as he puts the cig in his mouth he feels something in his backhead that can't be anything else than a gun barrel. The cigarette nearly trips out of his mouth.
"Don't... move." a voice behind him says.
"What do you want?"
Rayne tries his best to keep his hand from creeping towards his gun.
"Drop all your guns. Now."
Rayne decides it's best to do as the man says and drops both of his handguns and the shotgun on the ground.
"I said drop ALL of them."
"I don't have any more."
"Okay, then. Now drop all your cash, your food and water."
Rayne clicks off his belt and drops it, still with the gun to the back of his head.
"Okay. Now go twenty steps forward."
As Rayne starts walking forward, he throws a glance back. What he sees surprises him.
The young, moustached man that just mugged Rayne is now bent over in the pile of equipment he dropped. But what catches Rayne's attention is the gun the man is holding. It's blue, transparent and has a sign with "Super Soaker 150" on it.
In an instant, Rayne leaps at the bandit, but before Rayne reaches him, the bandit looks up and jumps away. Rayne hits the ground instead.
The bandit gets up and looks thriumphantly at Rayne... with Rayne's Desert Eagle in his hand.
Rayne looks up at the bandit. He realizes that he's in a very kinky position. He takes a deep drag from the cigarette he still has in his mouth, as if he seeks advice.
It's actually like he gets an enlightenment. His irresolute expression changes to a sly smile.
He stands up and walks slowly towards the bandit.
"Don't come closer! I don't wanna shoot, but i will! Don't come closer! I mean it!"
the robber seems desperate.
Rayne stops.
"You're pretty green, aren't you?" he says.
"How?"
"Well, first, you attacked me with... of all things... a WATER GUN..."
"Yeah, so? It worked, didn'it?"
The robber grins under his little moustache.
"And second..."
Rayne suddenly lungs forward. The robber raises the Eagle and pulls the trigger.
The gun clicks. All the time. The robber desperately keeps pressing the trigger, but not one bullet escapes the chamber. Then, Rayne is at him.
Rayne folds his hands, swings a hook with all his force and hits the robber in the jaw, making him lose the gun and fall backwards with blood pouring from his mouth. The robber hits the ground with a thud, groans and feels his bloody chin.
Rayne lifts up his Desert Eagle and dusts the sand off it. He turns to the robber who is writhing on the ground, and points the gun down at him.
"...you forgot to take the safety off."
The robber opens his eyes and stares his last stare into the muzzle of the silver .44.
Rayne pulls the trigger and with a loud blam rechambers the guy's head - the way of the wastes.
The robber is propelled down into the ground by the blast. The young man twitches slightly before he comes to a final silence - his head resting on a cushion of crimson.
Rayne looks down at the corpse with a sad drag in the corner of his mouth. He sighs hardly.
"Sorry, kid. It's the law of the wastes. Survival of the fittest."
He sighs again before he turns away and walks to pick up his supplies.
Rayne takes a long swig from his canteen and wipes the sweat off his brow. If this heat continues he'll just have to find a shadowy spot and rest until the sun calms down. He can't risk drinking up his water supply.
He puts the canteen back in his belt and lights up a smoke.
Just as he puts the cig in his mouth he feels something in his backhead that can't be anything else than a gun barrel. The cigarette nearly trips out of his mouth.
"Don't... move." a voice behind him says.
"What do you want?"
Rayne tries his best to keep his hand from creeping towards his gun.
"Drop all your guns. Now."
Rayne decides it's best to do as the man says and drops both of his handguns and the shotgun on the ground.
"I said drop ALL of them."
"I don't have any more."
"Okay, then. Now drop all your cash, your food and water."
Rayne clicks off his belt and drops it, still with the gun to the back of his head.
"Okay. Now go twenty steps forward."
As Rayne starts walking forward, he throws a glance back. What he sees surprises him.
The young, moustached man that just mugged Rayne is now bent over in the pile of equipment he dropped. But what catches Rayne's attention is the gun the man is holding. It's blue, transparent and has a sign with "Super Soaker 150" on it.
In an instant, Rayne leaps at the bandit, but before Rayne reaches him, the bandit looks up and jumps away. Rayne hits the ground instead.
The bandit gets up and looks thriumphantly at Rayne... with Rayne's Desert Eagle in his hand.
Rayne looks up at the bandit. He realizes that he's in a very kinky position. He takes a deep drag from the cigarette he still has in his mouth, as if he seeks advice.
It's actually like he gets an enlightenment. His irresolute expression changes to a sly smile.
He stands up and walks slowly towards the bandit.
"Don't come closer! I don't wanna shoot, but i will! Don't come closer! I mean it!"
the robber seems desperate.
Rayne stops.
"You're pretty green, aren't you?" he says.
"How?"
"Well, first, you attacked me with... of all things... a WATER GUN..."
"Yeah, so? It worked, didn'it?"
The robber grins under his little moustache.
"And second..."
Rayne suddenly lungs forward. The robber raises the Eagle and pulls the trigger.
The gun clicks. All the time. The robber desperately keeps pressing the trigger, but not one bullet escapes the chamber. Then, Rayne is at him.
Rayne folds his hands, swings a hook with all his force and hits the robber in the jaw, making him lose the gun and fall backwards with blood pouring from his mouth. The robber hits the ground with a thud, groans and feels his bloody chin.
Rayne lifts up his Desert Eagle and dusts the sand off it. He turns to the robber who is writhing on the ground, and points the gun down at him.
"...you forgot to take the safety off."
The robber opens his eyes and stares his last stare into the muzzle of the silver .44.
Rayne pulls the trigger and with a loud blam rechambers the guy's head - the way of the wastes.
The robber is propelled down into the ground by the blast. The young man twitches slightly before he comes to a final silence - his head resting on a cushion of crimson.
Rayne looks down at the corpse with a sad drag in the corner of his mouth. He sighs hardly.
"Sorry, kid. It's the law of the wastes. Survival of the fittest."
He sighs again before he turns away and walks to pick up his supplies.