James note: So, short of supplies and beset by enemies, you guys decided to go for the loot. You find some good stuff, but the fight might not be over yet.
You slump against your Jeep. Part of you wants to go stop the woman who almost got you killed. Part of you just wants to clear the road and get the hell out of here. All of you just wants a nap, and maybe a beer.
You take a deep breath and sigh. You’re stuck in what amounts to enemy territory, with limited supplies and no way to replenish them. Wearier than you’ve ever felt in your life, you head back into the woods. Those guys seem to have some good supplies and it’s not like they’re going to need them anymore.
You snag some rubber gloves from your medkit on the way. You don’t know what kind of diseases these guys might have had and there’s a reason ancient peoples always had taboos against handling the dead.
You go to roll your first guy over and most of his brain matter spills out of his shattered skull. You gag hard, but manage not to throw up. You feel pretty proud of yourself.
By the time you’re done loading the corpses, You Come Away with one revolver, a shotgun, and a couple of Glock 9mms. You find a couple dozen rounds each for the revolver in shotgun, ecstatic to find that the Glock guy had six fully loaded clips on him, not counting the two in the weapons themselves.
You also pick up the knife the guy stabbed into your arm. He stabbed you with it, you figure that makes it yours.
A couple of Bic lighters, two pairs of handcuffs, and a couple rolls of duct tape round out your haul.
Feeling pretty good about yourself, you head back to the Jeep and put away your Spoils of War. You keep one of the clocks on you, just in case.
Turning your attention to getting back on the road, you start trying to clear away the cars that block your path.
Between some good old-fashioned elbow grease and the winch on the front of your Jeep, you manage to make a hole big enough to drive through.
Just as you’re putting this whole debacle in your rearview mirror, you here engines roaring up the road behind you.
“Fuck my life…”
You think back on the woman you let escape and have a bad feeling that the vehicles coming up on you fast are not unrelated.
What do you do?