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Wolffe

Markus Hawking | Chapter One: Banners

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"Light will lead the way, will set you free..."

"...Cause I'm only looking for a little peace."

"And when the night falls, oh call on me..."

"...Just don't forget to show me some mercy..."

The music slowly started playing on Markus's earbuds as he slept through the trip. Everyone was silent inside the big blue bus, that showed no signs of reliability, but they couldn't choose what to move in at that point. The vehicle made sounds of metal clinking with every slight bump in the road, and it felt like it was just about to tear itself apart any moment. He was on the window side seat, with his head leaned on the glass, mouth open, almost dripping. He hadn't had a single moment of sleep on the past two days, helping the camp's staff load the supplies that were left into boxes, and these boxes into trucks, alongside most male survivors that were living there before it was raided. He used that two hour trip to get himself some well deserved sleep, but it sure wasn't enough.

The bus was filled with twenty survivors, not counting the driver and the three security members. Other integrants of the civilian, and staff side, were all in the two trucks in front of the bus, being escorted by a single UAZ with a mounted .50 cal on top. The resources were scarce, but their duty with the civilians were the only thing keeping them on a forward march towards a 'brighter' future, or at least, one with more safety than the average group of humans you'd find in Chernarus.

 "AY, EVERYONE!"  Shouted the security member by the front of the bus, rapidly waking Markus up from his deepest of dreams  "We're here"

Markus looked outside of the window, being greeted by a sight of hope. The new camp was just as big as the old one, but with double the population since they were now joining it. There was no guarantee of how the new members would adapt to the new environment, specially with the amount of people in such a space, but there was no choice. The raiders destroyed the old camp entirely, to the point where the survivors had to sleep on the cold ground, since all the wooden houses and tents were burnt down. That was better than nothing in Markus's head, and after all, more brains thinking togheter should offer a better situation for all people in the mix.

The bus came to a slow stop in front of the camp's gate. The compound itself was surrounded by metal and wooden fences from the nearby village, and was built around an already existing group of small houses in the middle of a small valley, west of Myshkino.

 "So here's the drill. Behave, don't touch anything you're not supposed to, and by the love of god Ronny"  He pointed at a slightly over-weight man already on his thirthies   "Don't get anyone angry at you like you did with Xavier back there, alright? Alright. Let's go."

Markus stepped down from the bus steps, overlooking the three meter high chain fence gate. To both sides of it, two big green and white banners, and two small improvised look-out tower with one guard on each, both holding assault rifles, that constantly overwatched the newcomers and the surrounding areas. A huge comotion formed, as people entered through the gates, other came to fetch the boxes filled with the old camp's supplies, and as the members of both camps greeted themselves. It was a great day for both groups.

"Oi, Hawks!" – Shouted a man, with a distinguishable Irish accent, next to the UAZ escort, holding a AK-47 on his left hand, and waving to Markus with his right "Come 'ere for a second!"

He approached the armed man with a smile on his face, holding his hand up for a handshake.

"Always nice to see a familiar face, O'Brian."

"Sure is buddy." He answered the handshake accordingly – "Tell me, how you've been doing there with all that banditry bullshit and all, eh?"

"Least we got out alive, you know. Those fuckers got every piece of weaponry we had, except the ones Mason put on the secret stash. Thank god he's in charge."

"Smart man, isn't he?"

"Sure is." He looked at O'Brian's weapon and got curious – "So, where you headin'?"

"That's why I called ya." He pulled a handgun from his back-pocket. A simple Makarov – "We're hitting up the radio broadcast center east of here. Want'd to know if you interested in'it."

Markus thought on it for a second of two, right before picking up the gun from his friend's hand and sliding it inside his right pocket.

"What's the reason behind it?"

"Mason got out to good ol' Reys and they thought it would be a nice idea to put out the word that we're needing some supplies."

"Well, well, well... So he finally got the guts to do it?"

"Pride's not higher than need, mate."

"Fair enough to me." Both of them entered the UAZ, alongside two other members of the new camp "So where's the place?"

The driver acelerated the car. O'Brian sat on the passenger seat, with Markus right behind between him and the gunner, that stood up, lowering the .50 cal's barrel.

"North of Novy Sobor. Locals call it Altar Radio Station or something."

"Any troublesome folk around?"

"Guess we're finding out soon enough."

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