"Fucking finally, we can eat." Barbara asked as to how they even got back within half an hour, her sweat falling to the ground. "Shortcuts, baby!" Roger yelled out, tired as well. "Twenty fucking years from near a city and going back feels so fucking great!"
"No zombies as well! Hallelujah!"
"THANK CHRIST!" Both of them screamed to the heavens above. They laughed together, Barbara finally berating themselves with "Goddamn, are we loud."
"Hey, at least we can eat stale bread."
"Oh hell yeah." she grinned and took a loaf. AND ATE IT! It was so hard to chew, difficult to even rip off. But hey, it's normal within this time. "Ish shtill hewgh ith tashthesh lihke."
"Chew your food, I can't understand what the hell you're talking about."
"FOOHD GHOOD!"
"That's a lie, Barb. I know good bread and that's a fucking lie." he guffawed as she bit as hard as she could. Swallowing the large, stiff thing, she drowned herself in water. "Barb. Barbie. Barbo. Barbara, stop."
"I'M PARCHED, DAMMIT!"
"Well, yeah but ya know, save some for me."
"JUST TAKE ONE THEN, ROGER!" Without even arguing, he indulged with himself the only food he can get (which was oats), rationing the rest. Pouring some few bits of it, he chewed alongside his companion. "We going back there or nah?" Roger asks, eyebrow rising.
"Nope, fuck that shithole. We go shopping."
"You've got any of those caps?"
"Still don't fucking understand why people went for bottle caps." she murmurs, the slight bit of twitch of annoyance showed. Fixing herself up, Barbara munched the last piece of her rations and went to a building, torn mind you. The anvil was stuck there, furnace on the side as well. Bags upon bags of metal scraps were there for recycling, plastic on the other side.
Barbara rummaged for a specific package. The summary of this long ass description of a room that I'm too tired to care about is 'Tool box near nail box has metal caps'. She took it, for later use since she would rather they take upon an empty mall rather than one that has shrewd people in it.
"Let's go."
"Already? I'm still eating and you recently ate." They won't talk about the running. Fucking weird ass cockroaches just had to swarm them... "Secondly, my legs don't work no more."
"Work on your stamina better, then!"
'That's one way to hurt me.' he yawned to himself, stumbling like a fool when he stood and walked. Limping was not ideal, but it might as well be better than passing out. "Goddamn it, fine. We go after I eat." the blacksmith sneered a bit, relaxing afterwards. "Give me a massage after."
"Oh fuck off!" Barbara flipped her hand at him, laughing at such an expense with this whole debacle. "I'll give you two rations."
"That would be smarter than giving me my own money... Make it one big one, you get the smaller portions."
"HEY! NO! Half a box, then!"
"Big bag."
"Can't fucking afford that, you know! I'm dirt cheap and you think I'd rather starve and give you most of our food?!" she screeched, baffled by this ordeal. 'This piece of shit! I swear to god, he's fucking me over!'
"What, you said that we'd go shopping, right?"
"Don't fucking change the subject, you bitch." Now, she walked up to the blacksmith, slapping the back of his head. "You'll be the death of me..." she sighed, walking up to pack everything they can carry. "Clichéd line, but the same goes for me." Roger rolled his eyes, reddened as he didn't get much sleep.
Well, both of them didn't. Seriously, their health became worse because of that shit rat who called himself Michael. Holy fuck do they want to tear them apart. "Remind me if we see that shit-eating fucker to beat him up until his face is bloody or his balls break."
Of course, Roger winced at the second one. "Maybe the first one only." is his reply before limping towards where she would be going. Hope they be safe, since their journey is chill but still dangerous, stemming from creepy critters to high radiation. "You have my hammer with you?"
There was a pause. "Wow... Fine, I'll get it myself and you have your own fists with you."
"We could just use the guns we carry around."
"Oh come one, we can't just fucking whack them with a weak, blunt weapon. You think it can kill a zombie?"
"Probs not... Alright then, get me a saw then."
"Yeah, yeah. Just wait for me." Another tiring 'adventure' and another batch of exhaustion will be on his body. Rising threefold, perhaps. Might as well continue this scavenging for another two years.
_________________________________________________________
"I'm still waiting for you."
"Michael, he who overpowers even the strongest enemy, what the fuck do you mean."
"Jesus fuck!" Looking over his back when he was fiddling with the papers near him, he saw the bastard himself. "Alexander, stop making me have a heart attack!"
"Good. Less competition."
"Competition? I'm small compared to you!"
"Still as dangerous. Now, where were we?" Alex rolled up his sleeves he got, looking cleaner than before. "You'll be my bitch until you grow, ok?" 'There was that grin that felt child-like.' Mike thought, his hunger at least satiated. If it wasn't, he'd break everything the man in front of him. In this room, of course, he's still stuck here.
"When will you try bribing me with food instead?" Michael rolled his eyes, thinking about anything delicious that came to his mind. Still, that phrase did not feel great at all.
"Never." the other scrunched his nose. "You won't steal my resource."
"Aww..." Michael said nothing, whining whilst closing his eyes. "Alright then, what do you want from me?"
"Production quality and your wit on some matters, I'd want to have that in my stead."
"Alright, take me to Gaea and perhaps I'll consider. Of course, it will be thrown out of the window if you trapped my team or killed them without reason."
"Why'd I do such a thing?"
"To let me be only yours and let me be distraught, isn't that the reason?"
"And then what? A scrap's a scrap but can be made into something useful." Eyeing each other, Alex scoffed. The silence just drew in more pressure, 'til Michael suggested that they could play another round. "Say, if I win, let me go to Canada freely."
"If I win, I'll force you to say yes to what I said before." 'Why would he want to go to Canada...'
"Set the blanket rules to make it fair." Michael was bored out of his mind now, thinking what the rest were doing. Especially Johnathan, that might cause trauma.
"No vehicles, no planes. Just make due with terrains and the troops."
"Can I still have the power to call the tokens whatever I want?" The other just nodded their head, not really caring for such a trivial matter. "Cool." Cheeky grin wide as ever. Bastard, always smiling when it didn't match the tone.
Grabbing the paper from the last game and additional infantry tokens, light and heavy. "Now, what we could have for the resources, since you made yours out of the blue... How about this?" And so he wrote it.
No. for troops and items.
Heads — Tails
5 snipers — 1 sniper
12 heavy infantry troops — 6 heavy infantry troops
16 light infantry troops — 10 light infantry troops
Items (by coins):
Grenades
5 — 4
Molotov
8 — 6
Ammunition (100 per coin)
25 — 14
Rations (50 per coin)
22 — 13
Tools & Others (15 per coin)
20 — 10
What. "Ok what the fuck is this chance bullshit?"
"We both know we can win even with smaller numbers." Oh how he was brushed off easily as he drew. Forested terrain, swampy ground and one high ground. Fuck.
"I'll let you flip the coin." Grumbling, he reluctantly agreed, the coin taken but he had other plans rather than catching it. You see, it's impossible for him to do it since his sleight of hands skills are bullshit. So, the best thing he had left was the simple word 'fate'.
"...Really? On the floor?"
"Look man, it's fairer this way. No one flips the coin twice, and it makes the chances really 50/50."
"I wouldn't have given you the coin if you told me you can't even do it properly..."
"SHUSH!" Flip from the thumb, going forward and to Alex's position, falling near him. He went closer for the result. He trembled. "I'll suck your dick if I can flip it again." The master here laughed at such a suggestion. "No. You did say it's fairer that way."
"Just... Don't go too hard, please?" Michael pleaded, which was an automatic rejection, even if he tried to be similar to a dog.
Acceptance. The final stage of this odd grief. "Just remember our conditions afterwards."
"Yes, yes. Sweet child of the foolish, how would I forget?"
"Stop calling me with weird titles, it's creepy."
Back on the table, the tokens were given immediately. Alexander got the 'short end of the stick' if it was even right to call it that. "Let's start." Mike sighed, deflated.
"Formations first." Alex reminded, playing with his voice whilst humming. Nodding, the other just laid back to the chair.
'Which would be better in this terrain... Corps would be destroyed if it was only by themselves and he'll be using what I defeated him with before.' There, a snap. 'Might as well try this.' A great hole in every single infantry troop.
The whole table was clean and orderly, so it would make sense if the coins were distributed in such a way, perfectly stacked. 5 coins were wasted from the 20 stack (tools, if you remember or back read).
"Rope is part of others, am I right?" A disgruntled hum was his only bit of reply. The whole board in Michael's side was more or less a bit of a spider's web, albeit not great. The reason why he picked it is simple in paper and tabletop, but would be as difficult as ever when practiced with new troops.
All of the heavy infantry on the outside of this web whilst the rest were inside. He didn't use the one that Gaea did before. Would be idiotic to see it again in a simulation. Snatching the marker, he drew lines straight to his own tokens. "Say, would you stop calling me names if I destroy half of your troops?"
Slight smile on the lips of the recipient. "Who knows, you bumbling buffoon."
"Finally, a normal one." he muttered as he put his snipers above trees.
'Guerrilla warfare and an unorthodox method of fighting...' Alexander's hands were tapping. Easy to win, too many holes and easily exploitable. Still, it's difficult to understand why would he do this.
"I'll let my snipers do the reconnaissance."
"How will they convey the message?" The easy answer was coins the coin. Messy stacks were placed near the edge of the table. "Tools." he said, short and simple, throwing out two. "Blatant as ever, Michael."
Of course, Alex's was a bit more manageable and flexible. He can waste half rather than two, as Michael did. The problem was, his needs to be nearer. The other thing he hated is when Michael will do something stupid and will probably enrage him.. "To be honest, this is a useless thing to do."
"Simulation, you said. If you want it to be authentic, might as well be that."
"Then there's no reason for us to show our formation..."
"You could have a border next time then." Michael tilted his head, his index tapping the hard wood. "And we could disrupt each other, correct?" Clicking his tongue, Alex was pissed. Throwing a coin, he muttered "Grenade." before drawing out the radius for the small bomb.
About three and a half of the group were gone from Michael's group whilst none were injured on the other end. "Che..." He pushed the center light infantry to plug the hole made, the line of the rope now disorganized.
15 and a half light infantry, 9 heavy infantry. Since the rope used were torn, there was no choice but to let the web be closer. Four coins from Mike's table were thrown to the messy ones once more. "Four for the ammo and two the molotov." he muttered, the crater drawn and the rope now filled with some few circles to say it's 'knotted'.
Who'll care if the fire will be rising afterwards, the swamp would tolerate that fire from its moist landscape. "Since my brigade know some of yours' position from their eyes, the molotov would be simply near here." The place was between three of Alex's tokens. Mostly leaning to the left, drawing a large fire.
"The ammunition was used for the snipers and near infantry, which was here." The two tokens on the left near them, still near the raging fire, and one lone one on the right. "Tch."
4 heavy infantry stays and 8 and a half for the light infantry on Alexander's side that stays on the ground. Michael, using this as an action to go near to the right, changed the formation into more of a folded fish net.
Before Alexander could even react, the former rolled three, no, four coins out. "Ammo." he informs, destroying two other tokens. Clenching and unclenching his fists, the man that got hit threw another coin. "Molotov.." Widened eyes came to Michael.
'Fuck, I was too arrogant.' he thought, now letting another two coins be wasted. "Ammo!" he hissed, Alex drawing the smaller fire (compared to Michael's as he used two), destroying about five of his brigade.
The game was relatively quiet. It was the tense atmosphere that hurt their lungs. Since he wasted his time utilizing the wrong methods, it was time. Alex pushed one of his heavy infantry with two of his light ones, he muttered "Ammo." and threw out five coins. After that, he pulled his troops back to higher ground.
Now, since his opponent was caught unawares, he hummed as he destroyed three tokens. 'Michael, that poor, poor child.' he laughed in his head, analysing whatever Mike was feeling.
There was nothing but slight annoyance. "Thanks for your contribution to my planning, Alex." he smirked. 9 and a half light infantry is better than the overcrowded 16 and 7 heavy infantry is good. He retreated his troops, dousing the fire with the moist soil and swampy ground and wasting a coin for Tools. "You did say that we have to go with terrain as well."
Ah how it goes. Both of them knew that throwing grenades and molotovs would immediately let one of them win, but will become a draw afterwards. Throwing out two coins, Alex let the sniper be a little closer before hitting one of Michael's.
"Nice shot." he grumbled, now letting his troops be broken down by two groups, now on the very familiar and open formation. A 'maw' of death, close to a crescent but more enclosed. The ropes were dropped, gone by the circumstances.
Even if one was killed, the other four still lives on. Three was thrown carelessly, pointing at the lone sniper group and immediately killed it.
Now, let's see the current items and tokens left, shall we?
Heads — Tails
4 snipers — 0 snipers
7 heavy infantry troops — 4 heavy infantry troops
9 and 1/2 light infantry troops — 8 light infantry troops
Items (by coins):
Grenades
5 — 3
Molotov
6 — 5
Ammunition (100 per coin)
19 — 7
Rations (50 per coin)
22 — 13
Tools & Others (15 per coin)
12 — 7
It was shocking to say the least. It's been a balanced fight no matter who's thinking of it. "Grenade." Throwing out a token, he sent it on the right side, blowing up some trees to get better sight. Some may call this stupid, but this is one way to open a more free formation.
Something that Michael calls 'Twig'. On the right side were small formations, light infantry mostly but one heavy in the middle. The rest were starting in a diagonal shape, leaning to the left until it went back to the center.
'Divide and conquer. Divide and conquer. When Alex comes near...' And his prayer came close. He'll use the same hit and run tactic. Hilariously enough, it's both unpredictable what will happen.
As the tokens come crashing quickly, both of them uttered "Ammo!" at the same time, disrupting each other. Ten coins from Michael were thrown away and since Alexander hasn't a choice on the situation, he wasted three molotovs, two grenades and all of his tools as compensation, alongside with his ammunitions.
"Alongside it were tools, three molly's and two bombs."
The bombs were thrown at the tree of the snipers residing in it, which was near to the left side of the twig. The molotovs went around the troops, one on the left, then the right and unexpectedly the middle of the group.
Ten coins of ammo couldn't muster up with the chaos that Alex made.
It felt too quick. Shaking, the now pitiful man let himself rise. "Y-you win." The other stood after, walking up to him. His hand was now opened for a shake. "Good game." The other just accepted his defeat, eyes below. "Let's go to Gaea, hm?"
"Sure, master. But send me to Canada after I see my friends."
"What's with you and that country?" he sighed, confused and tired.
"Uranium for the scientist I have." Mike answered, hands on his side. "Might as well tolerate with a brat."
"The shitty one, no doubt."
"HEY!" he yelled out, giggling as he pushed Alexander outside of the library, finally rejuvenated.