cloth that hung from his shoulder pads. "They mean I'm a deputy arbiter, they mean I can do what I want, including access the armory. So if Cooper comes down and wonders where a handful of weapons went, you tell him that Lynn took'em, aight?"
Trent nodded once, eyes locked with what eyes of Lynn's he could see through the mask. Lynn tousled Trent's hair before pushing himself back into a standing position, using Trent's head as ballast. He and his three other Klansmen entered the armory and surveyed their available options. Lynn looked at the guns, neatly arranged along one wall and the blades and other melee weapons that lined the other.
"Have any of you fired a gun before?" Lynn asked his followers, looking back at them.
"Does a crossbow count?" One of them spoke up, stepping forward.
"Sure, we've got a few. What's your name and rank?" Lynn asked as he took a compound crossbow with wooden furniture off the wall.
"Yancy, I'm a hangman sir." Yancy replied, accepting the bow and bolts, which he promptly slung across his back.
"Lord that's a horrible name…you guys, name and rank." Lynn requested, walking to the wall of blades.
"Gil, soldier, sir." Gil said proudly, as Lynn continued to pace the wall.
"Vera, hangman as well." Vera replied, her voice shocking Lynn momentarily, who had not realized she wasn't another man.
"Vera? Shit, maybe the recruits have the right idea not wearing masks. You been a woman this whole time?" Lynn asked, taking two black machetes off the rack of dozens of identical blades.
"My whole life, sir. With these masks I get that question weekly." Vera replied with a small laugh.
"Ha! Know what? I think I like you Vera, real go getter…anyway. I imagine none of you know what mission you've signed up for so here's the short version. We're going into town to get a computer chip out of some jackass's coffee pot. With luck it'll lead us to a much bigger prize. If there are no questions, let's move out," Lynn explained handing the blades to Vera and Gil."Wait, sir, are you going unarmed?" Vera asked, following behind him.
"I'm never unarmed." Lynn replied, flicking his wrists out. With that motion two long, slender blades flipped out of his wrist guards like switch blades and with a small metallic click, locked in place. He relaxed his hands again and the blades rotated quickly back into the bracers, out of sight, locking in place once more.
Lynn's demonstration silenced Trent, who moments before looked as though he had worked up the nerve to tell Lynn off again for entering the armory without written permission. Vera, Yancy, and Gil followed close behind Lynn as he crossed the courtyard once again. The group made quick time through the building, passing by the barracks, where rows and rows of beds built from shipping pallets and grass stuffed sacks were crammed end to end; then by a secondary armory housing only scavenged firearms, sportsmen's hunting rifles and shotguns and pistols made for home defense, along with all the ammunition the Grey Klan could find, whether they had something that could shoot it or not, this ramshackle armory was watched by two unfaltering guards, like the ones who protected Cooper's office; and then by a massive mess hall, with a kitchen in back that used metal sheets fashioned into ovens heated by wood fires. The main room, liked the barracks, was filled with ramshackle furniture, made from repurposed timber and scrap metal.
Finally making it out of the base, they had a view of The Breakers District. Their compound stood alone in a barren field. What had once been a small neighborhood had been
Trent nodded once, eyes locked with what eyes of Lynn's he could see through the mask. Lynn tousled Trent's hair before pushing himself back into a standing position, using Trent's head as ballast. He and his three other Klansmen entered the armory and surveyed their available options. Lynn looked at the guns, neatly arranged along one wall and the blades and other melee weapons that lined the other.
"Have any of you fired a gun before?" Lynn asked his followers, looking back at them.
"Does a crossbow count?" One of them spoke up, stepping forward.
"Sure, we've got a few. What's your name and rank?" Lynn asked as he took a compound crossbow with wooden furniture off the wall.
"Yancy, I'm a hangman sir." Yancy replied, accepting the bow and bolts, which he promptly slung across his back.
"Lord that's a horrible name…you guys, name and rank." Lynn requested, walking to the wall of blades.
"Gil, soldier, sir." Gil said proudly, as Lynn continued to pace the wall.
"Vera, hangman as well." Vera replied, her voice shocking Lynn momentarily, who had not realized she wasn't another man.
"Vera? Shit, maybe the recruits have the right idea not wearing masks. You been a woman this whole time?" Lynn asked, taking two black machetes off the rack of dozens of identical blades.
"My whole life, sir. With these masks I get that question weekly." Vera replied with a small laugh.
"Ha! Know what? I think I like you Vera, real go getter…anyway. I imagine none of you know what mission you've signed up for so here's the short version. We're going into town to get a computer chip out of some jackass's coffee pot. With luck it'll lead us to a much bigger prize. If there are no questions, let's move out," Lynn explained handing the blades to Vera and Gil."Wait, sir, are you going unarmed?" Vera asked, following behind him.
"I'm never unarmed." Lynn replied, flicking his wrists out. With that motion two long, slender blades flipped out of his wrist guards like switch blades and with a small metallic click, locked in place. He relaxed his hands again and the blades rotated quickly back into the bracers, out of sight, locking in place once more.
Lynn's demonstration silenced Trent, who moments before looked as though he had worked up the nerve to tell Lynn off again for entering the armory without written permission. Vera, Yancy, and Gil followed close behind Lynn as he crossed the courtyard once again. The group made quick time through the building, passing by the barracks, where rows and rows of beds built from shipping pallets and grass stuffed sacks were crammed end to end; then by a secondary armory housing only scavenged firearms, sportsmen's hunting rifles and shotguns and pistols made for home defense, along with all the ammunition the Grey Klan could find, whether they had something that could shoot it or not, this ramshackle armory was watched by two unfaltering guards, like the ones who protected Cooper's office; and then by a massive mess hall, with a kitchen in back that used metal sheets fashioned into ovens heated by wood fires. The main room, liked the barracks, was filled with ramshackle furniture, made from repurposed timber and scrap metal.
Finally making it out of the base, they had a view of The Breakers District. Their compound stood alone in a barren field. What had once been a small neighborhood had been
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