ACT I
Cassandra could hear the girl’s screams for her father, who lay bleeding in Cassandra’s arms, drowning out to the roar of half a dozen engines. The young warrior looked up and saw the raiders fleeing the battle, their cars and trucks kicking up sand as they sped away in several directions at once. She could not see through the swirling dust clouds which vehicle Zara had been taken by, knowing that a grisly fate awaited her no matter where the raiders took her. Thirsters, the vampire creatures who ruled the wilderness, and their blood-bound servants, known as ghouls, were not known to keep prisoners for long.
She had been patrolling the borders of Las Vegas, working as a bounty killer who brought in the fangs of thirsters, or the heads of well-known bandits. She had seen the smoke in the distance and sped in that direction, assuming that it was yet another refugee caravan fleeing the plague that had destroyed the neighboring city of Reno. The mass exodus had been so swift none of the refugees had been able to take precautions, and hastily assembled caravans crossing the desert were easy prey for the multitudes of thirster gangs. Cassandra did not think of herself as a hero, though if she could save a few lives while scoring a few more bounties it had seemed like a win/win.
The man in Cassandra’s arms groaned in pain, his handsome face obscured with an expression of pain and splattered with blood. She had come here to find the battle and bounty promised by a skirmish with raiders, and yet she had found more. Carnage she had seen, and heroism to, though nothing as selfless as what she had seen this dying man display. Cassandra ran her fingers across the man’s strong jaw line, the touch of skin seemingly electric, and he opened his eyes to stare into hers. In that moment Cassandra did something she had not expected, and she decided to ignore the bounty. She carefully loaded him into her car, and rushed him to the temple of the medicae in Las Vegas, pushing her vehicle to its limits as she tore across the desert. A man who would do for others was rare in this world, and she was overcome with the need to help him. Even if he died soon, which seemed likely given his wounds, she had to try, if not for him, then for his captured daughter, or perhaps even for herself. Once he was safe in the temple, she returned to the wasteland, positive that she could pick up the raider’s trail.
She did not have to search for long, and soon battle was joined again on the open roads.
Cassandra shifted into high gear and fed the throttle with a stomp from her boot, and the car lurched forward, its engine seeming to roar in anticipation of the carnage to come. As she sped onwards several miles behind her lay the burning wreckage of the first truck she had vanquished that day, its occupants dead on the sand and food for the crows. The sound of metallic impact was deafening as she hit the accelerator and slammed her car into the back of another vehicle. She had come around in a wide arc and smashed the rear wheel well of her enemy’s vehicle, and sending the smaller car flipping end over end. The young warrior brushed her long braided hair over her shoulder and corrected her course with one hand as she pulled back the string of her crossbow with the other, locking another bolt into place. Within moments she closed the distance between her vehicle and another ghoul truck, bringing them into range of her mounted weapons.
Cassandra worked alone, so had to compensate or this by rigging her car-mounted weapons with a series of swivels and pulley systems so that she could keep one hand on the wheel and use the other to engage her enemies. As such, her weapons were designed for close range auto-dueling, and in her mind this was how such fighting should be, close and personal. The two ghouls in the back of the truck began taking pot shots at her as she drew near, the hard rounds spanking off the plate armor
Cassandra could hear the girl’s screams for her father, who lay bleeding in Cassandra’s arms, drowning out to the roar of half a dozen engines. The young warrior looked up and saw the raiders fleeing the battle, their cars and trucks kicking up sand as they sped away in several directions at once. She could not see through the swirling dust clouds which vehicle Zara had been taken by, knowing that a grisly fate awaited her no matter where the raiders took her. Thirsters, the vampire creatures who ruled the wilderness, and their blood-bound servants, known as ghouls, were not known to keep prisoners for long.
She had been patrolling the borders of Las Vegas, working as a bounty killer who brought in the fangs of thirsters, or the heads of well-known bandits. She had seen the smoke in the distance and sped in that direction, assuming that it was yet another refugee caravan fleeing the plague that had destroyed the neighboring city of Reno. The mass exodus had been so swift none of the refugees had been able to take precautions, and hastily assembled caravans crossing the desert were easy prey for the multitudes of thirster gangs. Cassandra did not think of herself as a hero, though if she could save a few lives while scoring a few more bounties it had seemed like a win/win.
The man in Cassandra’s arms groaned in pain, his handsome face obscured with an expression of pain and splattered with blood. She had come here to find the battle and bounty promised by a skirmish with raiders, and yet she had found more. Carnage she had seen, and heroism to, though nothing as selfless as what she had seen this dying man display. Cassandra ran her fingers across the man’s strong jaw line, the touch of skin seemingly electric, and he opened his eyes to stare into hers. In that moment Cassandra did something she had not expected, and she decided to ignore the bounty. She carefully loaded him into her car, and rushed him to the temple of the medicae in Las Vegas, pushing her vehicle to its limits as she tore across the desert. A man who would do for others was rare in this world, and she was overcome with the need to help him. Even if he died soon, which seemed likely given his wounds, she had to try, if not for him, then for his captured daughter, or perhaps even for herself. Once he was safe in the temple, she returned to the wasteland, positive that she could pick up the raider’s trail.
She did not have to search for long, and soon battle was joined again on the open roads.
Cassandra shifted into high gear and fed the throttle with a stomp from her boot, and the car lurched forward, its engine seeming to roar in anticipation of the carnage to come. As she sped onwards several miles behind her lay the burning wreckage of the first truck she had vanquished that day, its occupants dead on the sand and food for the crows. The sound of metallic impact was deafening as she hit the accelerator and slammed her car into the back of another vehicle. She had come around in a wide arc and smashed the rear wheel well of her enemy’s vehicle, and sending the smaller car flipping end over end. The young warrior brushed her long braided hair over her shoulder and corrected her course with one hand as she pulled back the string of her crossbow with the other, locking another bolt into place. Within moments she closed the distance between her vehicle and another ghoul truck, bringing them into range of her mounted weapons.
Cassandra worked alone, so had to compensate or this by rigging her car-mounted weapons with a series of swivels and pulley systems so that she could keep one hand on the wheel and use the other to engage her enemies. As such, her weapons were designed for close range auto-dueling, and in her mind this was how such fighting should be, close and personal. The two ghouls in the back of the truck began taking pot shots at her as she drew near, the hard rounds spanking off the plate armor
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