Cinch, This takes place after the kerfuffle out in the Ruins. Once Clarity was dropped back off in Monroe, and everyone got sorted, your gas gauge reminded you your Jeep needs to be fed — only you know how long you can push your Jeep on fumes, but this scene takes place in Whitehall: the small settlement where the brothers Ford and Dodge run their gas stop.
It's an overcast day, with a cool drizzle tapping on your windshield as you pull in. Dodge is outside working on an old Neon he's hoping to revive. Ford is off to the side, drinking a beer and chatting with Goaway — a young lady who frequents their shop, because she loves the cars that come through here. Ford raises his beer and cheers when he sees your Jeep pull in.
"Mornin' Cinch!" He always says that, regardless of whether it's morning,
"you're just in time to see Dodge not turn over his Neon for the fourth time today!"You hear Dodge yell back from under the hood,
"HEY! It turned over last time ... Once ..."Goaway looks over to you and nods, but quickly peers back over Dodge's shoulder into the engine again. How do you two get along?
Here's the station:
Here's Goaway:
And here are the brothers Ford and Dodge (left to right):
Comments
"Mornin, Ford!" I chirp back, leaning an elbow out the window as I roll to a stop. The misty rain feels good and I've been ridin' with the windows half-open. Helps me forget.
I roll to a stop, kick the door open and swing down with a hand on the door, as I do. A nod to Goaway then I answer them, "well that sounds thrillin' as hell!" I say, only half-joking.
I walk over to the open hood where the boys consult, pulling off my gloves to stick 'em in a pocket. "how'd she get broken in the first place, Dodge?" I smile, wondering what trouble the boys have been getting into.
Oh yeah, I get along fine with Goaway, maybe she doesn't like how much attention the boys give me, but she does like when I give her a ride. Had her on the guns one time, too, when I had a last minute delivery through parts unknown.
She's tough to read.
Goaway slaps his hand when he goes to over-torque a bolt, and Ford slips around next to you – much to Goaway's chagrin. "What brings you our way, pretty lady?"
My face shows a little concern when he talks of cannibalizing the Neon. Messing up a working vehicle is pretty rough, there ain't so many these days. But they're fixing her... good. I lay a hand on the fender and run it along as I walk closer.
Ford gets the tiniest of smiles out of me with the compliment as he slips in next. Sorry Goaway, they just dig a girl who knows how to drive, I guess.
"Need gas," I say, like it's not obvious. "and work... not been great times for the bottom line." A little good-natured shrug. Sometimes they have work for me, sometimes not. I pat my pocket... which is where people used to keep their money, and their car keys.
Oh yeah. I still do.
Ford puffs up his chest and takes one last swig of his beer before tossing the empty can off into the distance. "Well, you came to the right place! We got lotsa that! Just made a fresh run out west and filled up our truck!" He brings you over to the enormous tanker truck they keep their gas in, and grabs a red jerry can to fill up. After fussing about with the interlocking valves, he finally gets the gas flowing. "Work... Well, there ain't much, but that fella came in with the scrap may need a delivery, if you're up to take on a passenger or two. He said he'd be back some time today... You know you're always welcome here, pretty lady!"
Now he's just pushing his luck. The confidence of youth.
I nibble my lip a bit at the compliments and follow him to the truck. Yeah, he's sweet on me or somethin' like. But I try and keep it casual, but not too close.
"Delivery? Always good with that... ain't nowhere I cant go, right?" Anywhere I can't get, nobody would want to... that's pretty much true. "I need full tanks... can settle up after the job?"
I look at the scrap guy, wonder who he needs where.
Ford hems and haws when you ask about settling up after the job. "I know you're good for it, but we gotta make a run out to Goaway's dad's place for some food, you know? We're already a little behind on that..." He smirks, "it does pain me to have to say no to ya though, Cinch... You bein' such a great gal' and all..." You know Ford normally would let you ride out and pay later. He must actually be behind.
What do you do?
Well that's slightly deflating. Was hoping for a break.
"All right," I say, a bit defeated, "it's not like I can drive without gas... I gotta have something left to pay ya.... something..."
I head over to the jeep. I have one Jingle left, doesn't really matter what is is I guess, but it's my last easily-tradeable goods. Rainy day fund I guess. I pull the worn cardboard box out of the back and bring it by.
"Even trade for full tanks, we square?"
What do you do?
I hand it over and take the can, "do I talk about much other than cars?" I stop and have a little laugh. I guess it's relative.
He makes his offer. I stop and face him, jerry can at my side. "Now that is a deal, Ford!" I punctuate with a snap of my fingers. "Just lemme get her gassed up... drink after."
I do it, get the Jeep loaded, tanks topped, cans full. Enough gas to last me a few jobs at least. Should work out.
He hops in, cool. I smile at the guy, you know, a couple hours of sponsored-fuel burning sounds great. I can let loose and he'll top me off when we get back.
You don't want to be caught out near Glen's Falls. The whole area is crawling with aggressive raiders, drag everything back to whoever their current leader is... they seem to change a lot depending on who's got the biggest guns. I'm prey that can bite back, though, so I'm not too afraid to pass by. But if you didn't know, it's like wandering too close to a hornet's nest and you don't want to stir it up.
What's worth seeing? The North end of Lake George is still swimmable. Remote enough to almost be safe and it's pretty as hell. Only been up there a couple of times... but it's good. Though you gotta keep out of Ticonderoga, whole town looks like there must have been a hell of a fight years ago. Cratered up... unstable. Just keep out of there.
"How far North have you been, Ford?" I start rolling, turning onto old Twenty-two and heading North. "Let's keep our distance from Glen's Falls... good? Wanna hit the lake? Do a little skinny dippin?"
I wink, kind of kidding... but kind of not.
He buckles up once you hit the 22, and says, "what 'bout you?" How do you pass the time on roadtrips like this anyway?
"Mostly talkin' to myself," I answer. True enough, I do go on sometimes in my own head and sometimes out loud. I know what he means about up North... I ain't spent too much time up there but there was a family lived nearby in the mountains growing up. Couldn't speak a word with 'em.
"Civics? Ain't seen a runnin' one in somethin' like half'of forever..." sometimes cars come through Monroe, mostly pickups, trucks, utility vehicles. Very few people just traveling around for the pleasure of it... small cars are pretty much useless for scav' work, bad for off-road... though they do burn less gas. But they have good engines, they get repurposed a lot.
I get up to a good speed, the road up here's wide open for a stretch and I ain't had a joyride for a long time. Gets my juices going, the engine roaring, the feel of the road passing.
"Whaddya think happened to Ticonderoga?" I ask, curious if he knows anything. "I heard they blew the place up from space... however that works."
I tap the roof of the Jeep, the closed sunroof that is.
He looks over to you. "You ever been as far out west as Buffalo? I aughta introduce you to my boys out there!"
[Cinch]
"Pfft" I scoff playfully, "I been everywhere..." Not really, but I been closer to it than most people. But always good to network. "Love to meet your buddies, though... anything like you guys they gotta be decent."
I think about Ticonderoga as we grow closer, "we'll stay clear of Ticonderoga town... I ain't heard of nobody gettin' sick though. You sure about that tank?" I adjust my grip on the wheel. That almost sounds like a dare.
He nods, "unless it got blown up... It was one of my sources. Just north on a 22, three exits after the next one. Then east towards Ticonderoga about 10 minutes? ... Well, 5 minutes at this speed. Wrong way if you wanna go swimmin' though. You wanna do that first? Hit it up on the way back?" There's a hopeful look in his eyes.
I smile a crooked little smile at him, the excitement of pulling something like this off is pretty intoxicating. But... practical.
"Hey I ain't going swimming with who-the-heck-ever 'Roga gang on my six... naaaw, let's hit the lake." I look at him for a second, yeah I wanna go swimmin! And it's a good fifteen seconds before I continue my thought.
"And if we ain't come to our senses by then... yeah. Let's find that tank."
Ok, so tell me a bit about what happened down at the lake. As you can probably imagine, Ford was more than happy to strip down and join you in the lake. He was never far away, often hoping to lure you into a bear hug, or display some form of his superior masculinity. You could tell he wanted sex... He was practically begging for it. The question is, did you oblige?
Let's pick up just as you're pulling into Ticonderoga's outskirts. It's creepy as all get out here... The trees surrounding the city have all died, and there isn't much in the way of life to speak of. The ground is unnaturally damp, like it suddenly became a swamp since the last time you came. Ford, regardless of what went down at the lake, is being touchy-feely. "It's just down this road. Old fella by the name of Pirelli held the place down. Real well off... Just ahead there, on the right."
The road you're on is lined with old workshops and businesses. Garages, lumber yards, car dealerships all scrounged dry... The place you're looking for is easily picked out from the rest when a series of huge white tanks, rusting and labelled various things you've seen before, come into view. Diesel, Gasoline, Propane... This place must have been a driver's dream.
What do you do?
Hey we're adults here, and he is a pretty good looking guy... thing is I don't go with may guys... not all the way to bed. But yeah, I get naked, spend the first few minutes just getting days of road dirt off of me, getting clean as I can in the water. Use a bit of soap and wash my hair... yeah he can watch, whatever... I'm keeping waist-deep at least, though...
I kiss him, let him hold me... feel him against me... but I don't want to go all the way to sex... keep it on the outside, you know? Wet bodies against each other in the lake.. yeah, that's pretty awesome. And I'll help him get off... hand or mouth or both... but I don't open my legs for pretty much anyone. Not unless I got real feelings, and Ford... I don't think either of us feel that way. We're just blowing off steam and feeling good here.
Give him just enough to satisfy him... hell, and me... but that's enough. Enough.
---
But then we're on the road again. Hair clean and damp, body feeling good... a perpetual little smile on my face. Nice.
Once we near the city, though, my smile remains but you can sense that I'm all business. Eyes sharp, body looks and flowing with the road... I keep to one side or the other, always eyeing the corners, the roof-lines... always know where my next bit of cover is, an which ways might get us out of here.
"So this place abandoned now? Pirelli? He still around? Thought we might find that petrol for the taking..."
If there's sign of trouble I'll be reading the sitch.
Ford's got his arm over the back of your seat, "The city's abandoned... Pirelli ain't never gunna leave, you know? He'd never give up his stash. My boys from Buffalo said he wasn't lookin' too good... But Pirelli's a tough guy. He'll pull through." He points out the shack by the tanks, and adds, "he'd be up in there. Just pull up, 'n we can check on him."
I'm not gunna lie, it might be a good idea to read the sitch here.
Yeah, where there's gas, valuables, people get on edge.
Little bothered by Ford not telling me the place was occupied until we're at the doorstep, but maybe I shoulda known. Sure... let's check on him.
But I'm keeping my eyes alert, hell yes I am.
Read the sitch:
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 6, 6. Total: 14)
What should I be on the lookout for?
If that mentions some hostile persons then the following:
Who is the biggest threat?
And
What is my best way out?
Ford scampers on ahead to the shack, and swings the door open wide — only to take two rushed steps back, throwing an arm up to his nose, "Holy shit! ... Pirelli? You ... You alright?" He slowly takes a few steps in. You don't hear Pirelli respond. You start looking for a way out of here. Your best bet? The high ground. You can see a dry stretch of dirt up the road a bit, towards the city proper. If you can ride it back out to the highway, it'd be your best bet.
Ford comes out for air after a second, looking worried... "This place," he whispers to you, "gives me the fuckin' heebee-geebees, you know? I feel all weird."
What do you do?
I slow to a near-stop as Ford jumps out to check on Pirelli.... the whole place feels off. Like the air is broken... my tires don't make enough sound on the broken-wet pavement. The air feels heavy and it makes me want to whisper.
"Ford... let's get your buddy 'P and get outta here... something ain't right," just a loud whisper out the door as I stop and hold the door open.
I eye that stretch of high ground, planning ahead exactly where to put my tires on the way. Something makes me put a had on my pistol, even though the air feels so dead around me.
I slip out the door, taking the pistol with me as I hurry to catch up... let's grab the old man and get the hell out of here.
Ford gets over to Pirelli's top side, and reaches for the old man's armpits. Pirelli's fights for a minute, unsuccessfully getting Ford off of him. You get the impression Pirelli's doesn't know what's going on. "No!" he moans weakly, "No, mine! Get the fuck off me you thievin' kids! I said you can't. I said it!"
He doesn't put up much of a real fight though, at least for you. You manage to get him out to the Jeep without trouble. You're pretty sure you spot a guy get up and bolt into the alleyway across the street...
What do you do?
Damn it, and just when I was smellin' sweet... all right. What needs doin' needs doin' right?
I help with the old man, Ford can easily pick him, but I'll take his gun for him, get a hand on his arm and the other free to open up the back door for him. Get him inside.
I see that guy take off and I keep an eye in that direction, but ain't stopping. Get him in, close the door quickly but quiet. Hand on the door jamb and swing myself back up into the seat, hit the gas as I pull out, let the momentum close my door.
Eyes on the mirrors and on the roofline... follow the path I laid out for myself earlier.
We drive.
The terrain here is almost exactly like shit in some places... Missing the strength to hold up the tires of the Jeep. Staying on the dry path is proving to be difficult. Give me an Act Under Fire to get out of here before trouble finds you.
If I catch Ford's eye in the rear-view for a second, I try to project calm. I'm at the wheel here, my stomach's all jitters but this is where I belong.
"I got'cha Pirelli...we're on your side here. Ford, hold onto somethin!"
Wheels spin in the mud for a second, kicking a trail out behind us as I get us out of here. I aim the Jeep up the path I laid out, of course... if the path sucks then forget it. I can improvise.
Acting under fire:
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 5, 6. Total: 14)
Assuming my read the sitch roll helps me find the way out. If not, then take -1 to this roll.
Where to Cinch?
I push hard, putting some distance between us and whatever anomaly has poisoned Ticonderoga. Once back out on the highway I find a good place to pull over... always out of sight of the road. Couple miles south on 22 there's a big abandoned (last I checked) farm house on the right.
I pull in behind the collapsing building and roll to a gentle stop so we can check on Pirelli.
"How's he doing?"
https://www.google.com/maps/place/Ticonderoga,+NY+12883/@43.8208914,-73.4026008,127m/data=!3m1!1e3!4m2!3m1!1s0x4cb555f8194d2da3:0x30dd863f73829cd8
Pirelli, in all his glory:
I turn back to face front, falling back into my seat. I say cooly, like I gotta say something about it. "There was some guy hangin' round Pirelli's place... spooked him when we pulled up..." I catch Ford's eye on the mirror.
"But... man we gotta get him some help... our doc's good but... this might be too much..." my voice is small by the end, like I don't want to admit it.
I put the Jeep in gear but don't roll yet, "let's get him to Monroe... get away from Ticonderoga... that place ain't right to live in."
I pull out gently to the road before giving it some gas.
Heading straight for Monroe? No stops?
Yeah no stops. Got plenty of gas (for once) so no holding back.