West of the Mendez River

September 24th, 1998
Around 8:00 PM

---

The 1990 Toyota Hilux SR5 4×4 diesel crew cab (OOC: GOD DAMN that is a mouthful!) rode up the path, using the old hiking trail Jack and his father took up towards the Raccoon Dam.



The vehicle was an import, but it served very well in off road conditions and mud given it was built for the Australian outback. The flood lights allowed him perfect sight on the road ahead, and since he dropped off his mother at the train station earlier this morning for her convention in Chicago, he's been planning to camp up by the reservoir and dam for the next three days- enough time for him to really search for his pa's remains. The elder, Jack Cavanaugh Senior, was viciously attacked and dragged off by a pack of wild dogs in mid may of this year, only four months ago. It still hurt, and he was determined to find the man's body even if it killed him. He'd gotten the next three days off from work to do this, and he'd be in the higher elevations so he'd have a great view of the city while he was up here, looking for his dad's body.

He closed his blue eyes, and could hear his dad screaming bloody murder, as the ravenous beasts tore him apart...! He shook his head and blinked his eyes, wiping them as he tried to keep his concentration on what little road there was ahead of him. The mud kicked up, but did not threaten to sink the tank which was Jack Sr's pride and joy of an off road 4x4. He bounced about in his seat, and turned his head when he heard the long aluminum case fall from the back seat behind him onto the floor. He ignored it for now, he'd deal with that when it was time.

After some time driving in the relative darkness, he came upon the clearing he was familiar with. He saw it every waking moment, and when he slept, it was where he'd been having his nightmares. We're here... now time to set up camp. He thought, and put the vehicle into park.

It was a very pleasant view of the Mendez River, which combined with the Circular river down stream towards Victory park south east from here. If he drove for another half hour to an hour, he'd be at the edge of the massive man-made lake known as Victory Lake which was also connected to the Raccoon City Reservoir. He liked this place growing up, a good place to fish for pike and large mouth bass, but these days... he's been hunting- hunting for whatever trace of his father there was left on this earth.



He stepped out of the vehicle, 5'9 in height, he looked like he was some sort of prepper with his military fatigues, combat boots, the dropleg holster and vest, combat gloves, all things he had grabbed from Kendo's before making his way here. If he was going to find his father, he knew the chances of running into those wild dogs were a high probability as well. He didn't want to take any chances.

He grabbed a smaller plastic case and used a key on his car key ring to unlock it, brandishing a M92FS Centurion with wood grips.



He racked the slide and pushed up the slide lock, loaded the civilian, 10 round magazine into the frame, and then pushed the slide lock back down, causing the slide to push forwards and into position with a click! with a round in the chamber and 9 rounds in the magazine, he flicks the safety on and slid it into the holster and then grabbed the large aluminum case that had fallen to the floor of the cabin. He put it back on the rear seats, given he wasn't entertaining anyone this evening... or anyone for that matter these days. He unlocked, and unlatched the case, pulling up the lid to reveal his father's AR-15 A2:



A Colt AR-15 Delta H-BAR, .223 Remington with several 20 round mags despite their... illegal nature, enough to blast away an entire group of wild dogs with ease if it came to it. Semi-automatic, ergonomic and accurate, the weapon would do him well should the need arise. He loaded the weapon and made sure the rifle was set to safe, before slinging it over his shoulder. I'll have a hell of a time explaining I'm not trying to poach deer out of season if fish and game come up here... may as well just get the lantern and sit on the tailgate for now. Start a fire, and the Sheriff's Department will know I'm up here again. He thought, as the sun was beginning to truly set. From here, he could see the cityscape in the distance, and with a heavy flannel blanket wrapped around himself, he sits in the back, lantern at his side, and observes the skies for now... tomorrow he'd begin his search in earnest.

Cu the Hellhound wrote:

Cu the Hellhound wrote:
"ROAAAAAAAOW-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The sound of a deep, almost demonic howl could be heard for miles throughout the woodland and mountain range...

"Jesus!" Jack shot up from his seat, as he was taking out a thermos filled with hot cocoa. He spilled the contents onto the bed of the truck. He stood up, rifle slung on his shoulder yet as he swerved his head around. He didn't see any eye shine, in fact... the forest became eerily quiet after that.

What the hell was that...? He asked himself. He'd been hunting these woods with his father for many years, but he never heard a howl so dark and menacing. It was also distant, because, he couldn't tell exactly where it came from. Maybe from the West? It was so loud though... he couldn't imagine hearing it from the beast itself if he was within sight of it...

Unnerved, but stubborn, he slowly sits back down and unslings the rifle, leaning it across his lap in case he had to use it.

A garbled, static ridden message came through on Jack Cavanagh's dash mounted radio, that Jack Senior used to use to keep in touch with the Kendos when in the Arklay Mountains or forests where cell reception was at its worst.

"Kid, kid! I know you're out there..." Robert spoke into the ham radio, trying to reach Jack Cavanagh, one of his employees and the son of Jack Senior, an old friend of his and Joe's. "Something's wacky with the long-range radios, but if you hear this, you gotta listen, and trust me if you're still up where I think you are." He says, referring to where the kid's father was killed by dogs four months ago. "The city, it's a fucking mess, I'm not sure if you can hear it out there, but its a God damn war zone. People are rioting, eating people alive, there's all sorts of monsters lurking about. I'm fuckin' serious!" he paused, and saw one of those zombie fucks shambling outside, towards one of the officers, but the officers shot it with repetitive handgun fire. "If you can't hear that through this, then you gotta be deaf, buddy!" He paused again. "If you can hear me, you gotta get Rin. She's still up at the campus, and half the roads are inaccessible, or they will be soon. Take Raven's Gate Bridge up to the station. Get her there, be safe, and make sure your packing heat, because as I said-" he winced as shotgun shells were being fired outside, hurting his ears. "...its a Goddamn warzone!"

Jack jumped again, this time from the radio mounted to his dash inside the cabin. Sighing, knowing the voice of Robert Kendo, one of his bosses, he slung the rifle onto his shoulder and descended the bed of the truck over the side to check the handset. He could just barely make out Robert through the garbled mess of static and what sounded like interference from a stronger radio signal. "Robert... Robert, I can't hear you-" he says through the radio handset, when he hears the distant explosions. He paused, turning to the city, noting the plumes of fire when he could make out Kendo saying 'its a warzone'. "Jesus Christ..." he says under his breath, knowing that something big just exploded when he could still make out the plume of fire and flame rising into the air in the distance!

He turned to the radio again. "Robert... Robert? Can you read me?" He says, but Robert seemed to be ignoring him. He can't hear me... what the hell is going on? He thought to himself, when he also clearly hears to pick up Rin. "Shit, right, she's still at the campus... fuck, well, that's at least on the way." He says when he heard the gunfire through the radio. "Shit, what the hell is going on down there?" He says to himself, and slips into the driver's seat once more, setting his rifle on a rack behind the driver's seat. Always a hit with the ladies, brings out the Deliverance side of things. He thought pessimistically, but wasn't going to be ungrateful for its existence now that it had an actual use. He started the engine, and flicked on the flood lights. "Robert," he says into the radio handset. "If you can hear this," he begins. "I'm on my way. You're niece will be safe, trust me old man!" He then put the truck into reverse, almost rolled back into the river, before shifting into drive and headed back down the way he came.

(to here)