[ This place got shredded once. Carver and Sam walk through the damage, familiar - he imagines - to both of them. But the ground hasn't been stained black by napalm, and in that there rests a line. These people weren't burned, not like back home.
Not yet, anyway.
Carver just shrugs at that, watching the corners, watching Sam. He's thinking about Sam's rifle and whether he wants to take it. The cost benefit analysis of drawing his pistol and shooting Sam in the back of the skull. There's no honor in the scrum, not really, not like he thought when he was green. And a good, working rifle is worth more than a man's life these days.
It'd be trouble, though. More than he wants just yet. Maybe later. He supposes Sam's making a similar equation about the body armor, about the resources that Carver's taken from the group. Food, clean water, ammunition. It all adds up. ]
Contractor, [ he replies blandly. ] And then the world ended.
no subject
Not yet, anyway.
Carver just shrugs at that, watching the corners, watching Sam. He's thinking about Sam's rifle and whether he wants to take it. The cost benefit analysis of drawing his pistol and shooting Sam in the back of the skull. There's no honor in the scrum, not really, not like he thought when he was green. And a good, working rifle is worth more than a man's life these days.
It'd be trouble, though. More than he wants just yet. Maybe later. He supposes Sam's making a similar equation about the body armor, about the resources that Carver's taken from the group. Food, clean water, ammunition. It all adds up. ]
Contractor, [ he replies blandly. ] And then the world ended.
[ So it goes. ]