Party

"Don't try it. You shouldn't even think about it." Tylor breathed out while still relaxing in his seat with gis legs laying on the dash board.

In the drivers seat a grimacing nomad focused back at driving. Just a second ago he actually tried to take his gun back.

But Tylor was obviously not just going to dooze off. Not with an unhappy and ungrateful guy sitting near him.

Though he would like to take a mental breather. Staying on alert all the time they are driving is taxing.

And getting enough sleep and downtime is actually important to someone as heavily augmented as he was now.

But truth be told, he had enough time to rummage through the data that was cramped into his head now.

And boy was that a lot of stuff to digest. He was lucky to have several memory upgrades helping in his cognetive ability.

"How come you are drivin' alone anyway? I thought nomads always come in packs?" He had enough with rummaging though. Could as well start a conversation.

The nomad looked at him. "What would you even know about us nomads. Clearly you are some rich ass city kid."

"Kid? Do I still look that young to you?" Tylor raised a brow now. From his image in the mirror he looked like someone from his mid thirties by now - so around 23 to 25.

"Who knows." The nomad took a closer and longer look. "With all the chrome its hard to tell sometimes. But you're younger than me by a margin for sure."

"Well, thanks for the compliment, gramps." Tylor scoffed a little.

"Oi, I didn't say I'm a geezer." The guy said back with a grunt.

"And yet you implied it. Better choose your words next time. So, about my question?"

"I'm not going to tell ya." And after that he really remained silent.

Tylor took a long look at him. His socializer was running analytics. There was clear discomfort written over his face. Sadness and guilt for something when mentioning the words of being alone.

"I see..." He looked away from him. Tylor could make his own assumptions that this guy propably lost his clan or was a banished.

"I guess those guys following us are bot yours then." His gaze went to the rear mirror seeing small dust clouds rising from other vehicles.

"What!? Fuck, this is still chupacabra territory. Those guys are freaks." The guy took a look at the back as well. "One fucking thing after the other. Have I sinned so much that I get thrown into hell?"

"Ever heard about the saying that there is no rest for the wicked?" Tylor then repositioned himself and rolled the sidewindow down. "You got something for long range?"

The nomad looked at him and then glanced to the rear mirror.

"Behind your seat is a sniper rifle..." He sighed and gave him information that he probably didn't want to.

"Good, keep driving. When they get too close you can grab the shotgun." Tylor then grabed the rifle stashed behind him and crawled out the passenger window taking a comfortable sit on the doorframe while aiming at the apptoaching threat.

His arms started to readjust stability and the first pull of the trigger was a little messy. It only hit a guy that was in the same position as him.

But Tylor did aim at the driver in that car.

"Hmm." nocking another round into the chamber of the bolt action rifle he started aiming again.

He got a feel for the bumpy road now. But the guys spreading and driving irrational now made it still a challenge to hit them.

But who was he? A former sharpshooter, so there was no way in hell he would miss that badly again.

And true to his thoughts, he hit the same car but this time around it was the driver. Now there were another 4 cars left.

With each shot, he slowly decimated the pursuers.

Well, one of them was shot by slug ammo because they tried to ram them.

The nomad grinned from one ear to the other when he got that last car.

That is only for him to feel a cold silencer presser near his head when he came looking back.

With a defeated sigh he gave back the shotgun to Tylor who made himself comfortable again.