Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Supply Run

The tyranny of a prince in an oligarchy is not so dangerous to the public welfare as the apathy of a citizen in a democracy. -Montesquieu

I carefully extracted myself from her, while looking at her face in shock. She stared at me blankly, before bolting, red-faced to the panic room. I willfully suppressed the desire burning in me, and chalked the experience to the GSA affect. I mused on this as I walked out of the house, I had only been home for 6 months, and living with them for 3. As these thoughts percolated through my mind I climbed onto my motorcycle and looked back upon the strange house my grandfather built. 

Built during the Cold War it was designed to be able to withstand an indirect hit from any nearby nuclear or subnuclear blast. I drove out towards town allowing my mind to blank, sliding into a flow state. Half an hour later I arrived at my first destination, an old car showroom along the highway, after hiding my bike, I sound my rifle and drew my pistol as the smell of smoke from the near distance floated into my nose. I carefully pushed the door open scanning for trouble, when I saw none I slid quietly towards the office where I came across the dead body of the establishment's owner. He was draped unceremoniously back across his chair, back of his skull completely gone, hanging from his hand was a .45. I carefully searched him for his wallet as I figured he probably had more guns at home, knowing his address would make my task easier. Sitting right behind his license was a picture of his wife and new born daughter. After pocketing the wallet I began rifling though his office for the registration of a particular truck he had in stock, the truck in question being a '62 WC 6X6. After finding it I quickly forged a fake bill of sale and retrieved the keys. 

As I got ready to leave, I noticed the truck's fuel tank was near empty, so with my bike in the back I drove to a nearby gas station, luckily it sold diesel. I slipped into the store with my duffle bag I retrieved from my bike's saddle compartment and began to check for hostiles. After looting everything that was valuable or non perishable I manipulated the cash till to allow the pumps to flow, I couldn't help but be thankful for the first 3 months home when I worked at another gas station. While I was filling up the truck I felt motion to my left, before I could pull my knife I was tackled by a guy wearing a suit.

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