Shadows of JiangXi

[arvg]

Hauling the Jeep up and out of the ditch, Alvarez cut it up onto the broken and cracked highway that ran along the canal, passing the speed boat that was heading in the opposite direction. They weren't showing any signs of stopping, which meant their intention was to bypass checkpoint Alpha and head directly to the coast.

Alvarez shrugged as he drove, it didn't bother him...

Now what did bother him was on the far shore of the canal, the leaping and bounding mechanized death machine that was still several miles back, heading after the boat. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see that Colonel Gonzales was mad, and was looking to get a little payback.

Given a day or two, she might actually catch them...

He leaned on the steering wheel, shaking his head, chaos... but that was survival training on JiangXi, pure chaos unleashed.

He gunned the engine turning back towards the city of New HangZhou, driving steadily through the forgotten and desolate wasteland that had once been the heart of the planet. Broken pavement, overgrown rice fields, and downed powerlines...

JiangXi was a land of ghosts, powerful and loud ghosts. The ghosts of the Coalition's arrogance, of its failure to protect it's most important asset; it's people. A hard lesson that had driven the people towards Katz, and the hope of something much better on the horizon.

He passed a battered and worn looking vehicle with one of the recruits in it, and didn't stop, they were on the right track for Checkpoint Alpha, and that was sufficient. He crested a hill, and like a shocked scar upon the horizon was the city. He'd heard tell of it, but he'd never actually seen it before. Not from the ground, and certainly not so personal.

It was a gaping wound, radioactive, sick and poisoned. Overrun by the dregs of a society driven by the purest of instincts survival. For all the progress they had made, there was still so far to go.

He swept the Jeep down the highway, rolling to a stop beside the first figure limping up the road. Colonel Gonzales' gunner, Mickie. Alvarez stopping long enough to let the weary and battered looking man clamber gratefully into the jeep, before he pressed on, heading for the next lonely figure, further up the road.

Petko looked worse for wear, as Alaverz rolled up beside him, tired and beaten. And the young Hispanic Captain smiled warmly, "Eh, you look like you could use a ride, si?"

As soon as the Dimitriov had climbed into the passenger seat, Alvarez spun the wheel, accelerating back the way he had come, towards the Social Credit.

"You two look like you could use some Vodka," he chipped cheerily, nodding to the glove compartment. "AKDOVODKA best in Sirius!"

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