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Message: <blockquote data-quote="johndaw16" data-source="post: 3405215" data-attributes="member: 12033">DanielI give the woman a serious look, kind of squint like I'm sizing up the distance, and turn back to Riko. Nah, she'd have to at least move a few more feet this side of that trash barrel; I'm not that great a shot. I break out a grin. Yeah, I gotta go with Riko on this one. It's easy to let this kinda sh-t make you paranoid. Lady's probably just curious or something. Best we try to act as normal as we can, and not go stirring up business with people got nothing to do with us.Anyhow, everything's cool with the Captain over there. Didn't need a h-ll of a lot of convincing. You know what they say, a crumpled hundred is worth a thousand words, right? I smile.---The woman that is watching seems to lose interest as you three talk amongst yourselves. She turns and walks away even as Riko and Daniel are dismissing the idea of capping her -ss. Amadeus stuffs the offered hundred into the crotch of his pants. Settle on in, you can put your bags in the bow stowaway. We'll be gone in just a moment. As the captain speaks over his shoulder to you, he moves about the small boat nimbly untieing lines and checking things over. True to his word the sleek boat is running up the Bay in less than five minutes. Tull sullenly sits in the bow, grudgingly giving the aft of the boat over to the three of you. Amadeus sits at the wheel and pays you three no mind, he figures you've paid for a bit of privacy. You all can look forward to a calm hour on the water and a beautiful sunset before the boat will reach the edge of the Potomac Industrial Zone.---As Amadeus pilots his boat closer to shore, the entirety of the Corr looms over you. The docks of the PZI rise to dizzying heights above you, over a hundred feet of sheer concrete wall plunging to meet the dirty waters of the Bay. One of the super-cargo ships rests at its berth a quarter mile away or so, non-descript rectangular containers filing out from the bowels of the ship in an endless line. Amadeus slowly pulls his skiff to the foundations of the PZI, solid concrete footings buried into the bottom of the Bay. The PZI casts a long shadow over you, and twilight has already descended down here. The captain lets you off on a spur of the concrete foundation that thrust farther out into the Bay. Amadeus points to a twisted rusted serpent of pipes, electrical conduits, and access stairs. There's the way up to Zone, its another score of miles before you're in the Corr though. You should be able to jump on one of the industrial carriers on their way into the Corr though so don't fret for your feet. As the small boat pulls away into the deepening gloom, Amadeus calls out over his shoulder, If y'all be needing to return the same way ya came, page me. Before you can ask how you can do that without a number, he points to a dozen luminescent numbers painted across the aft of the boat, just barely visible.---GrandbanksSh-t. can't remember that many numbers. anybody bring a pen?I watch the boat get farther off, and I'm lookin forward to the climb after sitting still that long, but I'm not liking this place much. Bout any wall in the Stilts you could knock down if you kicked hard enough, an get through to air and the bay, but not these. Maybe somethin cool up top, after we get outta the concrete and dark.---RikoI say the numbers over a few times under my breath. I think I can remember them. Besides, we could always get another boat. Might be better that way. I sling my backpack over my shoulders and start walking towards the junky pile of metal reaching up the concrete barrier. I push Daniel's gun into a more comfortable position in my coat, partially just to remind myself it's there. There's no reason for anyone to be down here, but then again that might be a good reason by itself for the wrong sort of person. I look over my shoulder to make sure the boys are coming along too. Once we get up there hopefully we can find an auto-transport or something to hop on.---DanielI give up my own rushed try at sticking the numbers in my head when Riko mentions that it will probably be better to take a different boat back. That definitely is true. There's a ton of boats anyway. The captain probably just wanted to drop a line in for another hundred for himself. Can't blame him.I smile at Grandbanks and turn to follow Riko. Yeah I doubt we'll have any trouble finding somebody to hitch on with. F-ck, that twenty miles looks a lot longer without a bike under me. Guess it's nice not to be constantly getting my -ss into knots worrying about the damn thing breaking down though. Let someone else do the driving, it'll be a luxury ride. Right.---The climb up the side of the concrete is treacherous. Many of the metal supports that hold everything together along the way are nearly rusted through. More than once one of you stumbles as a rusted piece of metal gives under your weight. Handholds and footholds have been crudely chiseled out of the concrete and without them you doubt that the climb would possible. The state of things keeps your pace slow, and it takes you close to a half an hour to get halfway up the side of the docks. You decide to take a few moments rest on the remnants of a staircase landing that clings to the face of the concrete. The view of the Bay from there is spectacular, better than anything you could get from the Stilts.  The  In the quickly fading light you can just barely make out the glistening top of the Seawall to the East. You all get ready to move, so that you won't be climbing in complete darkness, when a voice calls out to you from the gloom.D'er be a toll, to climb our wall. Another voice calls out from directly above you, Teh smell to me. A third voice add its chorus to the discussion from the darkness below, Hoi, mayhaps best to term 'em. Let the Sweepers 'ave 'em. A quick look about reveals no one to your eyes, whoever they are they must be hiding in the twilight or under cover.</blockquote>

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