Ficlets

Cross Country

“5 men, 4 miles ahead.” Jim grunted, peering into the little display.

“So, are we gonna kill them?” Kurt asked.

I liked these two, they were blunt, but they didn't waste words."Scanners picking up weapons." I informed them.

We’d met 3 weeks ago, in a bar on the east coast, I could tell they were like me. They had the look, the look all men get from traveling between habitable cities. Traders they call us, but we don’t trade that much.

We talked over drinks and it decided it might be mutually beneficial to travel together. At first we didn’t trust each other, but I figure if you’re gonna rob or kill someone you’d do it in the first week, so we all slept easier these days.

Besides we fitted together well, Jim had his rifle and spy plane, Kurt his pistols and grenades and I had my machine gun and my scanners.

“lets vote on it.” We voted on everything, I wouldn’t come this close to The Waste normally, it’s not safe, even for men like us.

We were about to vote on whether 5 people lived or died.

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