Once I was Seven Years Old

"Me neither," mused Ansell as he left his gun cradled, not even making an attempt to shoulder it. Yup, he wasn't about to shoot some kid for being sassy. "But who knows, wastelands make animals of men, out there no one cares who you are. How old, or where you came from. Lucky you found some decent folks, I've seen far worse from people in my home country when the crisis was happening. I wasn't too much older than you either." He sighed.

Ansell gave a shrug. "Oh probably, the AR-15 Platform has the lowest recoil of any similar classed weapon, if a girl can fire it, a man with splints holding him up should be able to, but I don't really intend to shoot you," he said with a bit of a laugh. The radiation got to them all in one way or another. "Like I said, a gutting would be the least of my worries these days." He shrugged his bag on a bit more comfortable. "It's a pleasure to meet you sir, ma'am;" He started off towards the open dirt.

"Mmm doesn't it? Probably explains a lot of things," he said with another laugh. "Come on then, I promise you're gonna like this. Not like there's anyone guarding them anymore. Men high tailed and ran like cowards. I'm sure all of them dead now."

This guy really did like to hear himself talk. But at least while he was talking he wasn't trying to shoot them all, and if it meant that they were about to hit the mother-lode, he could let the guy talk.

"Good. Easier for the rest of us." he said when told the place would be unguarded. He had no qualms about fighting into something if he had to, but why if there was an easier way?

He let the others go ahead of him, bringing up the rear of the small party as they set out across the wasteland.

He kept his eye on the official looking fellow, Ansell did he say? As they walked, snorting softly, "yeh yeh, people suck an' th' world is a shitty place." There was a sarcastic drone to his voice as he spoke, clearly done with all this talk for how much people sucked and the nature of man, "hell's just begun in this shit 'ole. But I ain't lettin' no one take me down." There was no way he would lay down and die in this wasteland, and if he had to become a monster to do it, then what choice did he really have?

He didn't seem impressed by the man's assurance that he could fire his weapon, good to know if they got into trouble, but it felt more like bragging, "good. Don't much feel like bein' shot today...I've 'ad quite enough misfortune for a little bit." Though he knew he wasn't done with it completely by a long shot, at least he wasn't alone anymore. He tried to keep up to the other three as they walked, not wanting to complain and look like a weakling, "Sam...Is th' whole Outback like this?" He looked up at the man as he spoke, a curious glint in his eyes, "'ow did you two survive?" He'd heard how Ansell had made it out of the blast, he was curious about these two though.

The thought of radiation wasn't settling right with him, and he chewed his lip, looking worried, "will I die? Like...Radiation exposure is bad, right? Really bad?" It was a pretty innocent question to come from a kid, he knew very little about the subject after all.

Ansell chcukled. "Good, you have the right attitude little Jamison, you will make it just fine;" His tone softened up, as he slung his rifle over his shoulder, tapping his visor a few times. There we go, waypoint showed where the first cache was. Should be plenty to eat there. That'd keep these scavengers happy and this scrawny kid could probably use the food. "If you stick around scrappy critters like me and these folk, sure you'll learn how to make short work of this wasteland." He motioned vaguely to Sam and his companion.

"Haha me neither, almost bit by a few snakes, gettin shot'd really be the dumps;" He sighed as he shook his head. "Eh the outback folk more hardy than they look. who else has to check their shoes for instant death?" Not many.

"Ah sure it's pretty bad, but what gramp always said, what doesn't kill ya makes ya strongers..." His accent was so very strange. "Hey, you might forget things here and there, might feel sick, or funny, you tell me if you feel sick. I got something for that. See the radiation out this far aint so bad. closer the city where I was real bad. Just don't drink the ground water or eat anything growing for a while."

"I don't know if the whole place is like this. But enough of it is." He answered grimly, looking around.

"I got underground, managed to avoid the worst of it." Like so many he had access to bunkers and the like, it seemed the concern a lot of people had had to construct such places had paid off. "Don't know about her. Found her wandering around out here kinda like you. Seems kinda fucked in the head, but she's quick and she's good at finding things." He indicated his companion who tilted her head over to seemingly look at them, but still said nothing.

"Bit of radiation won't kill you. Too much will, but you're probably still going to be fine." He nodded his head up to Ansell. "What he said, there's things for you if you're feeling off."

He kept hearing people tell him he would make it, that he would be fine, and he wanted to believe that. He sighed softly, but he was still just a seven year old kid, he might make it, but not alone, "yeh. Well I wouldn't 'ave lasted much longer if I 'adn't found yew lot." He shook his head and sighed, looking between the three of them before shoving his hands in his pockets, fiddling with the closed pocket knife he still had, "I 'ope so. Don't want to 'ave to depend on everyone else forever." The thought of being so dependent on people who may or may not stab him in the back was scary to say the least. He remembered being told not to trust strangers, but what else could he do when the world was no longer anything but?

But at Ansell's next words, he brightened to and laughed, grinning wide, "Ha! Yew bet yer fuckin' ass!" His mouth was more colorful than he realized, he gave him a firey grin, "only thing that kin' take an Aussie down is death 'imself!" He snickered and pulled out his little knife, "an' we'd probably fight 'im t'the death to!" He actually felt better waffling like that, it was a confidence boost and made him feel less bleak.

His attention was drawn, however, to the other man when he began to speak, listening intently, "yeh? Guess everyone puttin' them bunkers in th'ground was a good idea." He had a very vague and washed out memory of his mother thinking it was dumb, he rubbed his aching head, "off...That's putting it mildly. I been seein things, hearin' things...I've lost days...I feel like I'm goin' insane." Though he wasn't sure how much of that was his body telling him he was going into starvation mode, and how much of that was just the solitude settling in. At least he wasn't lonely now.

The former military man gave a shrug. "Well than lucks really been a lady for ya," he said with a nod. Out here running into more than one person was a 1 in a million chance. Especially people who didn't shoot on sight. He took a breath. "Learn what ya can, leave when ya need, you're the only real thing you can trust when the world falls apart. Depending on technology, depending on others, ye just get let down, left to fall when they do. No reason to get too attached like that." Rather dark way of looking at it despite his chipper tone.

A smile on Ansell's face as he listened to the boy call out how proud he was. Good thing, pride and wearwithall. "That we would," he mused. "Tooth and nail, nothing tougher than the people of the outback." He sighed as continued along. "Never lose that fire Jamison." He limped to a stop for a moment looking around. Something fishy about this area, the corpses didn't stink, they hadn't been here that long. Hmm. Bleeding instead of burned or exposure. Someone or something had killed these people.

"...Here," he said as he dug around and found a protein bar. "Why don't you nibble on this? Hunger and fatigue will do that to you; and stick close behind us okay?" He pulled his rifle off his shoulder hooking it around his hip to stabalize it should he need to fire. "Eyes up yeah?" He nodded. Something put him on edge.

Sam noticed something was off too and his manner grew overly cautious again. He waved a hand to hush Jamison, stepping a little closer to one of the bodies.

"This was recent." He lowered his voice t include just them. Or at least more recent than most of the carnage he'd seen lately. Whoever...or whatever...had done this might still be around.

The handgun appeared at the ready again as he moved forward very carefully, looking around as he did. Even with the small group of them, he didn't like the possibility of being jumped out here.

He didn't completely agree with Ansell's outlook, maybe as an adult he would have, but he was a child and he knew that, "I ain't old enough t'be fending completely solo mate. I'm hardy but I ain't stupid. I know my limits." And he felt that that would save him more than any foolhardy bravery ever could. He was well aware that this outlook would likely shift, growing up in this environment, but for right now he would be dependent wherever he could if it meant food, water, and shelter.

He shut his trap immediately when the other three seemed to become very tense, it put him on edge and he responded by flicking open the knife he'd brought with him, there was anxiety sparking in his gut now that was making his head fuzzy, but he forced himself to focus as he crept closer to one of the bodies to inspect it, "fresh bullet wounds. Buckshot of some kind...Yew kin tell by the messy 'ole, an' th'little tears." He recognized these kinds of hole patterns, calling forwards a vague, faraway memory of his father showing him one. He'd grown up a survivalist, and despite his young age still knew a thing or two.

He slipped the protein bar he'd been nibbling on into his bag as he knelt down closer, poking his tongue out as he began to use his little knife to dig at one of the wounds, it was disgusting and sickening, but he figured seeing one of the shells might give them a clue, "yer right. These guys ain't that long dead." He held the shell out when he finally freed it, holding it out to the two men, "I ain't terribly gun savvy, but whoever shot these poor blokes meant business. These ain't warnin' shots." His voice was low enough that only the other three could hear him, he knew a thing or two, but he was still relatively defenseless. Being ambushed was the last thing he wanted.

Ansell brought his rifle to his mouth and used his teeth to initiate the action, right, well he'd need to shoot someone. Not something he hasn't done before. 20 years old at least 5 wounded and 2 confirmed kills. Wasn't bad at all, he was young yet, there was time to get that record up. He took a deep breath and went very still and very quiet. 'How do you hunt a deer, pap?' he'd always ask. 'You listen, and listen well.' Tromp...jangle. He adjust his aim over northernly.

"Buckshot, but no deer around, probably wanted their things, we should move out of her quickly they're headed away from us," he said. And because he was a one armed broken legged man, Jamison was a 7 year old and this woman seemed a bit daft, perhaps it was best they didn't get in a fight with people who seemed very capable. "Think you can manage a quick step kid?" A swift movement was necessary if these guys were prowling the area, it'd be nice to have a defensible position. A Bunker would be perfect.

"At least we know they won't have a shot at us long range, buck shot means shotguns, useless after 30 feet; no deer slugs mean we should be fine," he mused as he made sure he kept an ear out, considering he only had one shouldn't be hard. "Won't be caught unaware." He set his Tac Visor to motion sensing, at least it'd have some vague idea.

Sam leaned closer to take a look at the piece of buckshot Jamison held out. It was possible these people had been the dangerous, crazy ones. More likely they'd been gunned down by people seeing an opportunity to take their things.

Skitter meanwhile had moved to one of the bodies that Jamison hadn't been working on, and seemed to be methodically going through pockets, bags, anything left. It wasn't much, but a few things got held up for closer inspection, before disappearing into some pocket or bag inside her clothes.

"Not much long range means it'll be harder to sneak up on us. But I still don't like it. Let's move." Sam turned to Ansell. "This bunker close? Sooner we get there the better."

He glanced up at Ansell and nodded, "I can manage a quicker step'n yew I reckon. Let's jus' go." His voice was urgent as he spoke, he wasn't scared, not really anyway, but they were in a seriously disadvantaged position given the makeup of their little team, they wouldn't make it far in any fight. He nodded at the man's comment about the range, "yeh. Lucky us, 'least if they shoot us we'll get a good view of 'em coming first." His tone was dripping with sarcasm, he'd been seeing things moving out of the corners of his eyes all day, whether they were actually there or just hallucinations, he hadn't figured that out yet.

His eyes glanced to Sam as he spoke and he nodded, then inspected Skitter and went to kneel beside her, his voice getting a bit less biting and a bit soft, "hey, yew okay t'go? Yer like me mate, collectin' everythin'...'ad a ridiculous collection of useless things back 'ome I think. We'll be alright, but we need to move." He could tell she wasn't in the best state mentally at the moment, but that was no reason to not be kind, even in this situation. It never hurt, she was still a person after all. He got to his feet after a moment and looked back at Sam, "less time out 'ere th'better."

"Bunker is a good mile yet, 15 minutes we'll be there, it's good for fortification," Ansell replied and smiled at Junkrat. "All things heal, I'm hoping to find a biotic field stash somewhere, one of these bunkers was supposed to be Overwatch." He chuckled as he limped along quick as he could. It was awful, painful, felt like he was walking on glass but he kept smiling away. "Well, kid then hustle up, fall in, hup to." He gave a chuckle as he moved forward, gun at his hip incase they needed to have a bit of a shoot out. He heard the faintest sound of a shotgun blast far off. "Still north, about 2 miles, they probably won't be back this way. Though going into the heart of the Outback now is suicide, maybe they've gone crazy." He hummed.

Ansell chuckled. "Just like hunting, you know? Listen, always listen, smell, taste, feel; gotta be sharp," he mused as he kept his posture low, using the brush that remained for what little cover it provided. Most everything else had turned to ash or glass. The bunker was marked by a solitary shed, that stood up resiliently against the elements. Made of poured concrete. The man smirked. "There we are fellas, good old home sweet bunker." He chuckled. "Should be good and stocked I haven't raided this one yet."