I&C - Chapter 3 - Strange Meeting

[Chaser1]

Chapter 3
Strange Meeting

Rhianna, Armin and Dominique

Dominique cuts through the night sky like a shadow, her wings blending into the darkness. Below, she spots a campfire; four figures gathered close, their faces lit by flickering orange light. A fifth figure stands apart, watching their backs. Something about that lone silhouette feels familiar.

She circles again, lower this time, careful to stay hidden. Even from this angle she can’t make out who the fifth person is, but curiosity wins. She decides to investigate.

She glides down silently, landing a hundred meters behind the watcher. The moment her feet touch the cold earth, she shifts; her scales dissolving into flesh, wings folding into her back. In seconds she stands in human form: long blond curls, nearly black eyes. She shapes herself deliberately, being tall at 6'3", strong but not monstrous at 175 pounds. She dons the clothing she brought with.

She flexes her hands, touches her face, testing the unfamiliar texture. oO(So this is human skin)Oo she thinks, oO(I'm not impressed)Oo
**************************************
Armin jerks upright on his sky cycle. “Geez, what the heck was that!?” he blurts, heart hammering. “Well, it’s not getting me!” Instinct kicks in as Armin Konrad knows when it’s time to run. He stuffs his goggles away and angles his sky cycle away from the fire, ready to bolt.

But a thought claws at him. oO(Still… those four have no idea what’s out there. I gotta tell ’em)Oo as sweat beads on his forehead. He mutters to himself, “Aw no, Armin… to go down there you’d have to be some kind of..." He groans, turns the bike back toward the camp, swallows hard, and guns the engine, “...Idiot.”
**************************************
Moving like a ghost, Dominique slips behind and slightly to the left of the lone figure. Her voice is soft, almost friendly. “Do you need some help with these men?”

Rhi noticed her already; a large shape descending from the sky, landing silently, then shifting into a woman who snuck up and whispered. Before Rhi can respond, headlights flare in the distance, cutting across the campfire glow.

Dominique’s gaze darts between the approaching vehicle, Rhi, and the four people by the fire. She can’t decide whether those four are worth saving, but there’s no time left to think. She shouts, “LOOK OUT! GET OUT OF THE WAY!” Then, still watching the unmoving figures, she asks Rhi, “Do you know who they are?”

Armin, barreling toward the camp on his sky cycle, sees the two women standing between him and the fire. Neither of the four campers move.

Rhi draws her swords, dropping into a defensive stance.

Armin’s eyes widen. oO(She’s pulling a weapon!)Oo He swerves hard, skidding sideways and stopping just feet from Rhi. He tumbles off the cycle, scrambling out from under it.

“Hey! What are you doing!?” he sputters. The short, pot‑bellied man throws his hands up. “I’m unarmed, I’m unarmed! Geez… listen. I don’t know who you people are, or what you’re doing here, but there’s some monster flying around up there.” He points wildly at the sky. “If I were you, I’d put those swords away and get the heck outta here! Dang thing nearly saw me and bit my head off.”

He fumbles for a flask, finds it empty, curses under his breath. “Must’ve been twenty… or thirty… naw, had to be fifty feet long!” He waves the flask uselessly. “Anyway, you’ve been warned.”

Dominique backs away, confused and startled by Rhi’s weapons and Armin’s frantic warning. She looks between them, hands raised slightly. “What did I do? Whatever it was, I’m sorry. Can’t we at least talk about this?” She tries to look harmless, waiting for Rhi to speak.

Armin grins. “Heh. Attitude. I like that.” He leans casually on his sky cycle. “Whatever that thing was, I just hope it doesn’t come back. Well, ma'am, name’s Armin Konrad. I don’t know anything about giant bats, but I’m just looking for work. Been traveling a long time. Need food and supplies.” He nods toward Rhi. “Say… what’s your name?”

Rhianna surprises them by answering. “I’m not always silent, Armin. I just never know what’s going to happen. It pays to be prepared in my line of work. And I don’t have many friends.” She sheaths her sword and crossbow. “Name’s Rhianna Correlion. You can call me Rhi. Just never call me Cori, Corelli, or anything like that.” Her tone makes it clear that that would be a mistake. “I’m out for hire, same as Armin. And why are you out here, ma'am? You don’t exactly look like you belong.”

Dominique blinks at her, noticing that they’re wearing the same style of clothing, but she lets it go. “I was taking a walk. Needed fresh air.” Her tone warns them not to pry. “I thought I had friends, but they turned out to be back‑stabbing jerks.” Her black eyes darken. “I don’t know why I’m even telling you this. It’s not like you care.” She turns to Armin. “Where are you headed now, since you saved the campers from the Dangerous Giant Bat?” The sarcasm is thick. Then to Rhianna: “I swear I know you from somewhere. Where are you from?”

Rhi shrugs. “I’m a wanderer. Always have been. And as for why you didn’t look like you belonged is because you didn’t have the countenance of someone used to the forest.” She lifts her hair, revealing a long scar down her cheek.

Armin nods, “Sure, couldn’t hurt. Maybe they’ve even got food. I’m starving. What do you say, Rhi?”

Dominique stares at her, “Did you bump your head? We’re in a desert, not a forest. Anyway, doesn’t matter. You seem alright,” She looks between them, “Let’s go see if those strangers can help us.”

Armin and Rhi walk with her toward the campfire. The four figures become clearer; still standing, still unmoving.

Dominique calls out, “Hello! We’re new to the area and hoping you could help us!”

Armin steps closer, baffled by their silence. “Hey there! We’re just passing through, looking for directions. Hello? Anyone?”

He turns to Dominique and Rhi. “What’s this about? It’s like they can’t even hear us.”

The four figures stand with their backs turned, hoods up. Silent.

Dominique’s gut twists. She steps closer, aware that something is very wrong. She reaches out and touches one on the shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her voice trembling. And the figure does not move.
****************************************************
Kival rolls into Empire City just past nightfall, his hovercycle humming beneath him as the town comes into view. It's a small frontier settlement with the bones of an old cowboy outpost. A saloon, a few shops, scattered ranch houses. The kind of quiet place where the dust seems to hold its breath.

He estimates maybe 150 to 250 people live here, which is enough for a community, not enough for anonymity.

He finds a spot to park his hovercycle where he can keep it in sight, using his amplified hearing to make sure he’s not leaving it anywhere suspicious. Satisfied, he slips into his Maverick armor and tucks his weapons into place: two Wilks pistols beneath his coat, a vibro‑blade hidden at his belt.

Most of time, people ignore or steer clear of him, being a grackle-tooth d-bee. Yet, he holds true to his cowboy roots as he heads toward the saloon. His reptilian features tends to frighten the young, especially when they see his teeth and tail.

The wooden porch creaks under his slippers. Every person he passes gets a polite hat‑tip or a friendly “how do ya do,” provided they look decent enough. The rougher types he ignores, but he notes them. First time in town means staying sharp. No sense walking forward in a place that thinks backward.

Inside, the saloon is dim, warm, and worn. Kival heads for the counter, looking for a non‑alcoholic drink while he quietly studies the locals. Maybe there’s a barmaid who knows the town’s secrets. Maybe someone willing to talk. Either way, he’s here to learn.***********************************************************
Armin shudders as the second hooded figure collapses. “What could’ve done this?” he mutters. “It’s not even like they were murdered. They’d be scattered everywhere. But they were just… standing here.” A chill crawls up his spine. “This feels like a disease. Or radiation. Or something worse.” Instinctively, he covers his mouth.

Down by one of the bodies, Dominique gags. “Hey, come look at this!” she calls.

Armin kneels beside her. “What is it?”

Dominique squats next to the figure she knocked over. She uses a stick to push back the hood. The smell hits her hard, forcing another gag. “Seriously, look at this.”

A wave of malice radiates from all four bodies. Dominique feels it like a cold hand on her spine.

Without waiting for anyone, she grabs the corpse’s head, rips it free, and throws it into the fire. Then she moves to the next body. “They’re evil. I’m not letting them come back and kill us. Help me.” She points at Armin, then at the bodies. She turns to Rhianna. “Build another fire. And grab wooden stakes. Quick. If they’re vampires, we’re not taking chances. We burn the bodies and the heads separately.”

Rhianna stiffens at Dominique’s brutality, but the fear in Dominique’s eyes makes her reconsider. She sheathes her sword, scans the area, then joins in, chopping off heads and tossing them into the flames.

“Armin!” she calls. “Firewood. And sticks for stakes!”

Armin stands frozen, face blank. “Uh… heads… in the fire. Yeah. Wood. I’ll get wood.”
Still dazed, he heads to a nearby tree and starts sawing off branches. oO(Some days are just more interesting than others. If it keeps blood‑suckers away…)Oo Soon he returns with logs and sharpened stakes.

A sudden movement catches his eye, a creature lurking at the edge of the firelight. He snaps his rifle up. “Where do you shoot one of those?” He flips the switch. “Maybe the head.” He fires twice.

A creature dives aside, the shots slicing through empty air. It bolts north, running sideways, never taking its eyes off them.

Rhi reacts instantly. She grabs an arrow shaft, thrusts it into the fire, then extinguishes it in the dirt, creating a makeshift stake. She tosses another shaft to Dominique and activates her vibro‑claws.

“Should we go after it?” Dominique asks. She doesn’t hesitate. “I don’t ever want to see it again. But the only way to make sure is to kill it. Or at least question it.” She takes off running and unarmed.

Armin stares. “Go after it? Did you see how fast..." He stops. Dominique is already gone.
She’s going to need weapons, he thinks. He grabs two stakes and runs after her.

Nickie, Dominique's nickname, stops short, dust swirling around her. “Damn. I wanted to catch that thing… but maybe it’s better we didn’t.” She turns to Armin. “What’s the big idea? Did you come to protect me?” She rests a hand on her hip. “Thanks, but I can take care of myself.” She heads back toward Rhianna.

“This place makes my skin crawl,” she mutters. “I’ll help finish up here, then I’m going home.”

Armin watches the creature vanish into the darkness. He’s out of breath by the time he returns, catching the tail end of an argument.

Dominique meets Rhianna’s eyes. She says nothing. She walks to the fire, watching the three burning skulls. She picks up a flaming piece of wood, holds it as though listening to it, then throws it onto the pile of decapitated bodies.

She turns to Rhianna, “If you must, you can call me Nickie,” then she leans in, voice icy. “We all have a secret or two, don’t we, Rhianna.”

She points north, toward where the creature fled. “There’s a town that way. Meet me in the tavern tomorrow at noon. For now, I’m going home.” She begins walking. “Maybe then you can help me pick out my first weapon, huh, Rhi?”

Armin sighs. oO(Whatever. Let ’em argue. I’m just glad to be alive. If it’s not blood‑sucking zombies, it’s crazy women)Oo He calls after her, “We’ll meet you in the next town, Dom.”
****************************************************
“Howdy, stranger,” Jenny drawls in her best John Wayne impression, casually thumbing her blaster. “Stores ain’t open this late. So tell me, what is it you really want? A girl’s gotta be careful out here, what with all the dick‑slingers and butt‑bandits roaming around.”

She saunters toward the bunny‑slippered newcomer, grinning at his footwear. “I’m new in town myself, but I’m sure there’s a few cheap shops around. How ’bout we finish a couple drinks and see what we can dredge outta this place?” She flashes her snaggle‑toothed smile and lights a cigarette.

Kival and Jenny exchange a look.

The barmaid arrives with tequila, a glass, salt, and lemons. Kival pays, generously, while silently cursing the price. He takes a long swig straight from the bottle, leans back, and kicks his legs onto the table. then freezes, “Oops.” He stares at his fuzzy white bunny slippers. “SHIT!” He forgot to change. He's still in his pajamas.

No one in the saloon seems to care. Conversations continue. Kival sighs. “What the hell am I even doing here?” Then he perks up. “Oh yeah, looking for friendly faces.” He spins his chair backward. “Wish they made chairs for grackles,” he mutters, tail thumping the floor. “So… any ideas to pass the time?”

After a while, once Jenny and Kival have warmed up to each other, an obese man with messy gray hair approaches. He asks if they can help find missing townsfolk. He wrings his hands. “I’m sorry, miss. I don’t have much money. Only a hundred credits, and I need it to last.”

Jenny smirks. “A hundred, huh? Well... I’m itchy for some action. Tell me what you know about the disappearances. I’ll help. Maybe later we cut a deal that doesn’t involve money.” Her M.O.M. implants glint in the dim light as she eyes him, “Ugly fellow, I don’t know anything about your friends. But we can help, for the right price. What’re the rumors?”

“They’re my friends,” he insists. “What do you know about the strange disappearances? Can you help?” His breath is awful, teeth missing, but his bright blue eyes hint he was handsome once.

Kival steps in. “Sir, could you point us in the direction you think we should start?”

“I’d check the farms on the outskirts,” the man says.

Nearby, two patrons gossip. “Jeff and Wrecker haven’t been back in days. Hope it’s not another case of sudden dehydration syndrome.”

Jenny and Kival exchange a knowing nod. They head out. Kival starts his hovercycle and motions for her to hop on. “Quick stop at the sheriff’s office, then we’re off. Hope you don’t mind sitting on my tail.”

“Best seat in the house.” She hops on, inappropriately rubbing his tail with zero shame. “Let’s get going... to the sheriff’s office.”

Along the way, Jenny speculates, “If folks are being held hostage, that’s easy money for a rescue,” Jenny says. “And if they’re dead, whatever killed ’em might have loot worth grabbing.”

They arrive at the sheriff’s office. The sheriff, a short man with gray hair, a bushy mustache, cowboy hat, and brown uniform, rants until dawn. The most useful detail: he swears the culprit is some kind of demon.

From the window, Kival and Jenny spot two strangers entering town, a man and a striking woman in green armor, as they stop outside the saloon.

Jenny nods. “Alright, Kival. Sheriff’s not gonna shoot us. Let’s go.” Her eyes stay fixed on the newcomers.

Kival tips his hat politely as he drives past the pair.
*******************************************************
Armin hops off his bike and gives the town a once‑over. It’s smaller than he expected. The kind of place where tumbleweeds probably have voting rights. He pulls out his flask, remembers it’s empty, and sighs toward the saloon.

“Well,” he says to Rhi, “that looks like as good a place as any to wait for Dominique. Maybe I’ll have just a couple…” He starts toward the swinging doors, then pauses. “Can I buy you something?”

Rhi fiddles with something behind her back. A moment later, Armin notices her cloak lying flat instead of bulging like before. “Don’t worry about it,” she says. “I’ll take you up on that drink.”

Nickie spots them heading inside and follows, giving them a moment to settle before pulling up a chair. “Howdy,” she says warmly. “So what’re we drinking?”

“I’ll have a whiskey,” Armin tells the bartender. “And give the young lady whatever she wants.” He glances at Rhi with a grin. “You are old enough, right?” He tosses credits on the counter.

He hears footsteps behind him and turns. An attractive brunette in a leather jacket stands there.

“Hello,” she says. “What are we drinking?”

Armin stammers, caught off guard by a pretty woman actually starting a conversation with him. “Uh… whiskey. Care to join us? We’re waiting for a friend.”

Nickie smiles. “I know.” She leans in. “It’s me, Nickie. Dominique.” She sits back and accepts her drink from the waiter. “Decided I needed a new look. What do you think?” She spreads her hands proudly.

Armin blushes. “You look… well, different. Not bad different... good different. I mean..." He clears his throat. “You look great.” He downs his drink and regains his composure. He leans toward Rhi. “Hey, maybe we should ask the bartender about work. There’s gotta be some way to earn money in this town. Even killing zombies oughta pay something.”

Rhi studies her drink, swirling the amber liquid. “Sure, why not.” She turns to Nickie. “You look good.” Then she extends her hand; a rare gesture from her. “Sorry about yesterday. Long trip. I’d like an ally at my side if I ever get caught off guard.”

Nickie can tell it’s one of Rhi’s rare compliments... and that it means something.**************************************
At the edge of Empire City, Kival slows his hovercycle. The night is still, the town quiet enough to hear dust settle. An elderly woman hobbles along the road, her cane doing most of the work.

Kival tips his hat. “Howdy, ma’am. I’m lookin’ into the disappearances around here.”

The old woman stares at Kival and Jenny with wide, confused eyes. “I… I lost my husband and my son. I don’t know where they are. Can you find them?” Her voice trembles like she’s barely holding herself together.

Jenny glances around, noticing the few townsfolk nearby watch from porches and windows, grim and silent, like they’ve already given up hope.

The old woman grips her cane. “The creature took him… I saw it.”

Jenny leans in. “What’d it look like?”

“Horrible,” the woman whispers. “A shriveled‑up man. He touched Richard… and Richard just… withered away," as tears spill down her cheeks.

Kival sniffs thoughtfully. “Withered to nothing, huh. Well ain’t that somethin’.”

“Please,” she begs, “can you find my son?”

Kival flashes a sharp‑toothed grin meant to be reassuring, though it earns him a few grim stares from the townsfolk. “Sure thing, ma’am. Which way’d the creature run?”

“Toward the wastelands,” she sobs. “It’s fast.”

Jenny pats Kival’s shoulder. “Well, partner, looks like we’re wasteland‑bound.” She hops onto the hovercycle behind him, once again, unabashedly grinding on his tail.

Kival revs the engine. “Hang on.”

They peel out, dust kicking up behind them as the old woman collapses to her knees, crying into the gravel. The townsfolk watch from the shadows, solemn and unmoving.

Fifteen miles later, the wasteland wind howls across the barren ground. Kival slows near a burnt‑out campfire. Three charred, decapitated bodies lie scattered around it.

Jenny whistles low. “Well ain’t this a warm welcome.”

Kival crouches, scanning the scene. “Footprints everywhere… four bodies… all burnt clean to the bone.” He taps one of the skulls with a stick. “Yep. Somethin’ real friendly came through here.”

The wasteland stays silent, maybe too silent, as the two stand over the remains.

Kival and Jenny see that four pairs of tracks lead to the fire, four also leave.
****************************
Armin keeps clumsily flirting with Nickie, who mostly smiles at the short, round man and ignores the worst of his attempts. “We need some action around here,” she says, half teasing, half serious.

Before Armin can respond, Kival’s scaled brow shoots up. “Good gods in hell, how does that happen and when? Can you give us a description?”

An old man shuffles up to Nickie and Rhi, eyes wide and jittery. “Heh… heard you girls are lookin’ for action. This town’s infested with DEEEE‑mons! They nab all the ranchers!”

Nickie stands. “Can you show me where you last saw a demon?”

The old man blinks. “Well… I… I never actually seen one. But folks’ve been disappearing.”

Nickie tilts her head. “When you say ‘disappearing,’ maybe they just ran off.”

He shakes his head. “Doubt fifteen people ran away in a few weeks.”

“How do you know a demon did it?” Nickie presses.

“What else would do that?”

Nickie frowns. “Were the people turned into lifeless husks and left behind?”

“Only one,” the old man whispers. “Shriveled up… like he dried out. No injuries.” His hands tremble.

Nickie plants a hand on her hip. “Thought you said they disappeared. A dead body ain’t exactly a disappearing act. What’s really going on?”

“I said he was the only one found…”

“So what do you want us to do?” Nickie asks. “We can help, but you’ll need to pay for more than a round of drinks.”

“I don’t have much,” he admits. “Ranching’s our income, and that’s scarce now.” Both hands shake.

Nickie shrugs. “Can’t speak for my friends, but if you find me a good weapon, that’s half my price. The other half… you’ll owe me a favor.”

The old man glances at a friend at a nearby table, grabs an odd‑looking laser rifle, and hands it to Nickie. “I can give you this. LR‑30. Got four clips.”

Nickie inspects it. “Well, I don’t know how much damage this’ll do to a demon, but I’ll take it. Who disappeared last?”

“A young feller south of town. Old widow lost her father too. Poor lady.”

Nickie turns to Armin and Rhi. “Let’s go see what they can tell us. Armin, got room on that cycle?”

Armin stammers, “Su... sure! Let’s get going.” The three head toward a farmhouse a mile out of Empire City.

Before they leave, Nickie asks, “Are the missing people only men?”

“No… there was a little girl too,” he says, eyes bloodshot.

Nickie hops onto Armin’s cycle. They ride out. Near the edge of town, they spot an old woman crying by the road. Nickie dismounts and approaches cautiously.

“I heard about your family. I’m sorry. Is there anything you can tell me?”

The woman sobs. “Your friends were here ten minutes ago. They headed that way.” She points toward the direction where Nickie, Rhi, and Armin found the bodies last night.

The trio exchange looks, then head off to reinvestigate the scene of the burnt corpses.

****************************
Kival and Jenny spot two dust trails cutting across the wasteland toward them.

At the old fire site, Nickie, Rhi, and Armin see two figures waiting near the charred remains. Armin squints. “They evil? Hostile? Weirdos?”

Nickie shrugs. “We’re about to find out.”

Rhi narrows her eyes. “Keep that gun ready.”

Armin slows his hovercycle, plasma cannon raised. Nickie points her LR-30 skyward, like she’s expecting trouble to drop out of the clouds.

“Friend or foe?” Nickie calls out.

“What are you two doing here?” Rhi adds, not bothering with pleasantries.

Kival approaches with casual confidence. “Just checking out some strange disappearances. You folks too?”

Armin nods, “Yep. Same mess," taken aback by Kival's bipedal alligator appearance.

Nickie gestures to her group. “We’re doing the same. I’m Dominique. This is Armin, and this is Rhianna.”

Kival nods, his deep voice rumbling. “Hello to you all.”

Jenny grins wide, “Hi! You can call me JJ,” while rubbing knobs protruding from her patchy hair.

Nickie gives a dramatic curtsy. “Most call me Nickie.” Her dark hair and golden eyes catch the light, giving her an oddly elegant look despite the wasteland backdrop.

JJ frowns at the ashes, “Any of you uncover anything about the creature that did this?” She eyes the strangers, sizing up their firepower. Nickie’s got a rifle, Rhi’s got swords, and Armin’s got a hovercycle with a cannon big enough to make a preacher swear.

Armin glances at the burnt bodies, “Any of you figure out what these things are? Lady... Are you okay? Cramps? Pregnant?”

Nickie drops like a sack of potatoes, clutching her stomach.

Kival lights a cigar, unfazed, while Rhi and Armin exchange worried looks.

Dominique’s eyes flicker open. Her vision swims, the light stabbing at her. She sees shapes, four people, but can’t make out faces. The evil from last night still clings to the place like smoke. Being young, her powers slip out of her control.

She gets to her knees, then stands with effort. “Sorry… this place is extra creepy today. Can we please leave and track this demon down?” She grabs her gun and looks around. “This is where we were last night. That thing ran off that way and vanished. I say we head toward those hills. Anyone got a better idea?” She nudges Armin.

Kival swings Queen off her kickstand, dust swirling. “I agree, Dom. Anyone else wanna join, feel free.”

The group heads toward the mountain range. The air cools, the terrain grows jagged. They reach a ledge overlooking a canyon, two hundred yards across, dead silent except for tumbleweeds skittering across orange rock.

Nickie takes a breath. “I don’t like this. We could get trapped easy. Thoughts?”

JJ bursts forward in full MotorMouth mode, “Comeonguysandgals! Thisiskindofexciting! Mysteriouscanyons! Viciousmonsters! IfIknewit’dbethismuchfunIwould’vefixedmyhairandbroughtabiggergun!” She scrambles up a rise, scanning the canyon. “Hmmm… nothing. No plants. No furry critters. All dead. Cool.” She spots something and grins. “Hey guys guys guys—get your tushies over here here here!” She whistles. “I see a cave. Other side of the canyon. Mile and a half away.” A rancid stench rolls over them. “Smell that? Death. Everywhere.”

Kival starts up the hill. “Sounds good. On our way.”

At the canyon floor, they find human tracks. The air is musty, the smell of death thick. Dirt mounds dot the ground like crude graves.

Nickie frowns. “Looks like we found something. Hope the guy ain’t home. This place doesn’t look friendly. Whatever you do, don’t let it touch you.”

Armin signals Kival to stop near a mound. He checks his armor and weapon settings. “I don’t think this was a great idea… one Mississippi, two Mississippi…”

Kival parks, revs once for courage, then dismounts. He draws his plasma cannon, tips his cowboy hat back with the barrel, and murmurs, “In all that’s holy, may we be protected.” He kisses the barrel, grins sharp‑toothed. “You’d be lucky to nail one before me. Keep your worries aside, friend.” He throws on tinted goggles and listens, enhancing his hearing.

“DANGER!” JJ shouts.

Kival whispers, “I hear something laughing in the cave.”

The buried mounds seem to pulse with unease, like something might claw its way out.

JJ backs toward the hovercycle. “Ooookay, I’m not touching the mounds.” She fires a laser blast at one just to be sure.

“Hey guys, why don’t we just make the cave… cave in?” She points her gun at a weak rock above the cave mouth. “If we all shoot the same spot, boom... no monster.”

(OOC: A battle ensues. The creatures escape.)

Nickie clutches her stomach, pain shooting through her. “It got away. Now what?”

Jenny shrugs. “Who cares? They ran. Means they abandoned their shelter. Our chance! Yeehaw!” Her grin is a little too wide. “Sorry, this cowgirl stuff’s gettin’ to me.”

Kival grunts, staring down, “It’s their turf down there. We’ll need light.” He revs the engine. “And definitely some of this.” Plasma ejectors pop out of the hovercycle. “Let’s get this party started.” He slides on a gas mask and creeps toward the cave.

JJ jumps onto the back. “LET’S ROLL!”

Nickie spots extra gas masks. “Hey Kival, toss me one! I’d like to live too! Slow down, guys!” She trips over a pebble pile JJ made.

JJ keeps cheering. “You go girl! Finally someone with cojones!"

"Okay, you smell and I hear. And uh… I had bad chili last night, so don’t smell too hard.” Nickie frowns through some of the pain. She senses evil everywhere and hears something moving deeper in the cave. A shriveled corpse hangs from the ceiling.

The others, except Armin, enter the cave cautiously. “I’ll guard the entrance,” Armin calls out, “Not interested in dying in a cave.”

JJ signals the charge. “They’re running! Let’s get ’em before they regroup!”

Kival peeks out. “Hey Armin, you get the privilege of watchin’ my bike. Don’t let her kill ya if things get hairy.” He tries to swagger back into the cave like a gunslinger.