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Fallout: Arkansas - Chapter 2

Location: Batesville, Arkansas, At the old Piggly Wiggle Building

Time: 11:32am

Date: December 18th, 2102

Situation: Unknown


The lawmen on arrival to the town found it in much the same as he had been since the war, shattered and desolate with some signs of life. While many of the towns buildings were hulks of their former selves many still stood as if they had never been touched, a testament to the technology of the american people prior to the war. Wilson frowned as he spotted a feral ghoul skitter from under a overturned truck. He sighed a cocked the hammer back on his 45. and fired, the gunshot rang out loudly as the ghoul fell dead. "I still cant get over those things." Trooper Patrick Kirkland remarked as he holstered his own 10mm. The old trooper had a grim look on his face as he slid off his horse and walked to the ghoul. The ghoul still wore its uniform, the faded blue marked him as a police officer, the badge stained still shown silver. Patrick plucked the badge off and then tossed it to a younger man behind him, Officer Derek Carr, the only live Batesville Police Officer. "I believe that belongs to you now." Carr nodded and slipped the badge into his pack, shame to see his old comrades this way.


"Lets get back to it." Wilson waited until Patrick was back in the saddle before moving on. The group was certainly something to see, a Jonesboro Police Captain, a State Trooper, a Allied Universal Security Guard and a Batesvillie Police Officer still in their uniforms must have looked out of place in the ruins, Wilson had long noted the scavengers on the buildings around them, he smirked as he heard one mouth the word lawmen. Atleast the scavs knew better than fuck with them. The group came around the corner, the city's ramshackle settlement coming into view. The old Super Duper Mart came into view and Wilson noted the long line of tents and shacks that formed New Batesville were still around it, he scanned the many faces briefly, no one challenged their arrival, which was good. "Officer Watson, if you could be so kind as to watch the horses me and Trooper Kirkland will be inside, Officer Carr go and find the Fire Chief and tell him Im about. His men nodded and scattered to do his bidding. Wilson was referring to the Batesville Fire Chief, the sole remaining city official, he was the acting mayor, really the de-facto mayor at this point as no one had challenged his title in over ten years. Wilson knew his firefighters kept the peace with the other lawmen he had assigned, but the big man was in things way more than anyone gave him credit for, he would know something. Wilson slid from the saddle and crossed the street with Patrick, the Piggly Wiggly was lively as ever as the merchants peddled their wares from stalls or blankets. You could get just about anything here, food, medicine, weapons you name it the piggy as it was called had it. Wilson wasn't interested in anything in particular, he wanted to find hanks shack and get on with the business but he had to give the appearance that he wasn't on a case. He stopped at a stall that had weapons on display.


"Anything interest you cap'n?" The old man sitting on the stool knew who he was just like anyone else, but that didnt stop him from trying to make a cap or two. "How much for those two boxes of 45. rounds." The old mans eyes lit up. "30 caps." Not a bad deal, he handed the caps over and took the boxes. He moved on eyeing the other stalls and carts in the area, nothing jumped out to him. He looked around for Patrick and spotted him at a stall selling nuka-cola, he wandered over and took a bottle himself, for 25 caps which to him was robbery but whatever. The two men moved off to Hanks after that, the Piggly Wiggly still had its fusion reactor in operation, and as Hank had the largest shack in the lot had lights, so it wasn't to hard to find the neon that proclaimed the best beer in the region, Wilson and Patrick made their entrance and the bar flies looked them over as the came into the room. Most looked away so as to not get the scorn of Wilson, he was a fair man, but he had zero tolerance for stupid. Hank Sims however wans't afraid of anyone, and he had the brains and brawn to back it up, as it was he didn't start nothing either. Hank was in his forties, his hair line receding, he wore his trade mark bar keepers garb, apron and slacks with a white button up, his name tag said "Boss" so anyone who didn't know could figure just who they were dealing with. Wilson took a seat at the end of the bar where he could watch the door, Patrick beside him. Hank wasnt stupid, he knew Wilson or Patrick wernt here for a drink, but the asshats at the other end of the bar didn't know that.


He slid down their way after a few minutes. "Your normal cap." He slid Wilson a shot glass, fine whiskey being another of Wilson's vices, he slammed it and nodded his thanks as he handed over his caps. Patrick sipped his nuka-cola signaling his intentions. Hank took a glass from the bar and took a rag to it. "What brings you to my humble bar cap." Wilson placed a beer can on the bar, the dim lighting would keep wandering eyes from seeing it. Hank grunted. "I see." The man held the glass up the light and frowned at a spec in the glass which he went to cleaning. "I sell lots of beer cap." Wilson nodded. "Yea, but since when have you had Old Possum ." Hank grunted. "Its an acquired taste not many people ask for it." Wilson nodded. "So then you would know who's asked for it recently then." Hank eyed Wilson for a moment. "Maybe I do, maybe I dont. Memory's...." He trailed off as Wilson placed more caps on the bar. "Ah yes, you know the Statler Brothers I guess?"


Wilson knew them alright, a hellva group from out of Missouri. They were actual brothers from what he knew, but he also knew they were responsible for burning four or five homesteads, raiding a couple of settlements, several counts of kidnap and rape, and dozens of murders. Wilson and his lawmen had been looking for them for ages, damn bastards always seemed to be a few steps ahead. He had a few contacts up that way, not much of lower Missouri was habitable thanks to the fallout and the resulting madness, the woods that way teamed with creatures born of the fallout and Wilson had heard enough not to send any of his forces that way. But he had also heard of some groups out their making a living. The Statler brothers were supposedly a product of that lifestyle. "So you just sold them beer and didn't think to call someone?" Hank eyed him for a long moment. "Who says I didn't." Wilson felt a deep pit form in his stomach. "Lieutenant Woods and his squad?" Wilson referring to the lawmen he had in the town, only five men but good officers. "Dale, Jeffries and Lanton are dead. Last I heard Woods and Dodson were were on heading towards Mountain View after those bastards, I did send a rider to Cave City to tell ya what was going on." Wilson stood. "Keep the change Hank, thanks for your time." The bar man nodded as Wilson and Patrick made their exit.

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