Chapter 1 - The Loose Hammer

The Axis and the Allied forces remained in war for 72 years until every country involved ran out of resources or was toppled by the enemy or revolts from inside. Over the span of 72 years every country either joined a side in the war or was absorbed into a different country. By the year 2010 every country but The United States and Germany had fallen from power. But the last two superpowers eventually fell in 2011 due to corruption and citizen militia uprisings. The massive power vacuum this created led to private military companies and militias taking over large areas.

Seven-six-two lowers her goggles and opens the fabric door of her home. Behind her she carries a sled with a banged up motorcycle on it. Being on the border of what was once Canada, her surroundings are less desolate than the most of the world. "Finally going to finish my ride. Three-Fifty-Seven will be so jealous." 7.62 brags to herself as she begins to make the trek to where she scouted a weapons cache. After walking about 10 miles she reaches a cliff overlooking the weapons cache.

"Hmm, a cloud of dust 2 miles out. I have to make this quick or I will get lost in the winds." 7.62 notes to herself.

She moves down to the base of the cliff and makes her way to the large shipping crate. On either side of the biggest crate there are smaller boxes piled up. 7.62 takes off the rope that she was using to pull the sled and begins to rummage through the smaller boxes.

"Fuck yeah! They have the final parts I need, or rather, I can make these into what I need!" 7.62 cheers, but when she looks up she notes "That dust cloud is far closer than it should be… oh… Oh… OH! I'm a dumbass! It's not wind, It's people on vehicles! Shit!" 7.62 has this realization while scrambling to throw all of the parts onto her motorcycle.

She quickly starts hammering things in place just making sure the bare minimums are met for it to work. After confirming that it (should) work, she starts rapidly throwing ammo out of the crates but as soon as she realizes that she is not going to get away in time, she hides her motorcycle in the shipping container as well as stocking away the stolen ammo. She hides herself behind some of the smaller crates.

A small gang of people on motorcycles and one semi truck parks 30 feet away from the weapons cache.

"You really think you are slick, doncha?" a voice calls out.

7.62 almost responds with a brag but reasons that it is probably not a good idea to expose her position.

"We can see your sled tracks, you know." the voice calls out again.

"Shit!"

7.62 unholsters her hammer and grabs one round of 7.62x39 from her belt. She throws up the round of ammunition, she jumps up. Its almost as if time slows down. Her target becomes clear. She brings back her hammer, and swings it with perfect precision as to strike the primer of the round and send the bullet with a bang right between the eyes of the man who spoke first.

7.62's hammer has a 2 foot long handle with a leather wrapping. The hammer's head is double sided, one end is a blunt force tool, the other end is a sharp point. On the blunt end of the hammer 7.62 drew on a crude crosshair. When she strikes bullets with her hammer, she replicates the action that would be made by a firing pin. The hammer itself is made entirely of AR500 steel.

7.62 barely dodges a barrage of gunfire sent from the 4 other gang members She ducks back behind the crates and rushes to the other side.

"This is our property! And our score!" one of the gunman shouts.

"Requesting backup, we have a hostile at the cache!" One of the gunmen yells into his walkie talkie.

"Back up will be here in roughly five minutes!"

"Five minutes to deal with these clowns and get the hell out of here!"

As the 4 gunmen continue to shoot where 7.62 used to be, she readies another round and strikes it. The gunman closest to the right, drops to the ground, his weapon still spraying. A cloud of dust is formed as the bullets kick up the ground.

7.62 seeing an opportunity starts to flank to the right of the 3 remaining gunmen. She gets right behind one of them and cracks them right in the temple with her hammer. The body drops and stains the earth with blood. She quickly gets behind the next gunman and wraps her right arm around their neck. Right as she finished this the dust settles completely.

"Help me! Dickhead!" the gunman shouts.

Dickhead turns and is immediately hit with the body of the other gunman.

"Hey Dickhead, Catch!" 7.62 shouts as she throws the body at Dickhead.

7.62 pushes the body out of his arms. She grabs Dickhead's outstretched left arm and around his neck. She plants her right foot behind his left and with a slight amount of force, topples him to the ground. 7.62 places her right leg over his ribcage and across his body. She plants her other shin into the neck of Dickhead. She brings both of her knees together with his arm in between them. 7.62 raises her hips slightly and Dickhead's elbow contorts with a snap as his elbow twists in the wrong direction. Shrieks of pain slip from Dickhead's mouth. The screaming stops when he faints from the pain.

"Only a minute until more of these guys arrive" 7.62 estimates while running for her motorcycle and ammo. She slides her motorcycle out of the shipping crate and fills the bags hanging off of the motorcycle with the stolen ammo. She hops onto her motorcycle and turns the key. The engine begins to hum.

"That's what I like to hear! Yeah!" 7.62 cheers.

She lowers her goggles and with an ear to ear grin speeds off for the first time.

"If I go straight home then they will follow me, let's lead em on a wild goose chase!" 7.62 thinks this while reaching for one of the bags on her motorcycle.

She unclips the bag and reclips it to a clip on the front of the motorcycle. She unzips the bag to reveal throwing knives. She checks behind her to see a gang of six gunmen all on motorcycles. One motorcycle in particular is far larger than the rest. It has massive exhaust pipes that reach almost 7 feet high. The person riding the motorcycle is wearing a gasmask with several patterns and designs. They themself are tattooed every place you can see their skin.

"Do you really think that you can run from us?" The man called out.

"And next you are going to shout "Do you even know who we are?" Honestly you cliche ridden bastards should come up with something better!" 7.62 mockingly shouts back.

"You fuckin bitch!" the Fat Bastard shouts in return.

"I would never fuck your rotten ass, Fat Bastard!" with that 7.62 sticks her middle finger in the air.

7.62 is suddenly blinded by a bright flash. Her eyes slowly readjust to see a reprogrammed drone that the United States used to use in the fight against Germany. She quickly grabs one of her knives and stabs it into the drone taking it out of commission. She also dispenses of two of the gunmen by throwing knives into the paths of their tires. The two motorcycles spin out of control and crash into each other.

One of the gunmen speeds up to be right next to 7.62. She quickly unsheathes her hammer and cracks his right in the skull. A small splatter of blood is followed by the subsequent crash and explosion of the motorcycle. The last two normal motorcycles speed up to keep pace with 7.62. They both slam into 7.62's bike in an attempt to pin her. She squeezes the brakes and falls behind the two leading them to crash into each other. Shrieks of pain ring out as their bones are crushed by their own motorcycles.

"Incompentent pieces of shit!" Fat Bastard shouts having run out of minions.

He begins to crank a lever connected to a harpoon on his motorcycle.

"I'm going to get you now bitch." He mutters under his breath as he lines up the shot.

Fat bastard pulls the trigger and the harpoon is sent flying at 7.62. Hearing the sound she quickly engages the brake coming to a sudden halt, now her bike perpendicular to Fat Bastard's. The harpoon nearly misses, had 7.62 not moved it would have cleaved through her skull. Fat Bastard continues to race at 7.62. She revs the engine and races full speed at Fat Bastard. Both speed at each other knowing that the other will have to chicken out. At the last possible moment the two swerve. 7.62 hears a scream then a crash, followed by an explosion. She hit Fat Bastard's front tire with three knives a second before they swerved.

7.62 kicks down the kickstand and steps off of her bike. She walks over to the crash site and finds Fat Bastard still alive. He is covered in burns and both of his legs are mangled.

"You are… one fuckin bitch." Fat Bastard chokes out between belated breaths.

"I'm the baddest bitch you've ever seen!"

"You really should have listened to what I said earlier. Killing me is the worst mistake you could make. You will be hunted to the ends of the earth. I've already signaled for your bounty. You will never be a free woman again bitc-"

Fat Bastard is silenced by a bullet piercing his skull.

"That idiot would really think I would believe that, ha what a dumbass" 7.62 laughs to herself as she walks back to her motorcycle.

She drives through the land keeping her head on swivel making sure no one was tailing her. After driving around in random directions for thirty minutes she starts to head to her destination. She rides for another thirty minutes until she reaches a tavern/gunshop called "Tavern". She parks her bike in the back and heads to the front and pushes the door open. The usual smell of alcohol and cigars hits in the face and all she can think of is "The smell of home." Although she sees someone who she hasn't seen before. He is a bit short at 5 foot 5 inches with short shaggy brown hair. He has freckles peppered all over his face and arms. He was working behind the counter and fumbling with the beer spouts.

"Who are you?" 7.62 askes rather aggressively.

"Oh, uh.. Uhm, my name is uh Junior." Junior seems flustered with his current situation.

"So Junior, where is Three Fifty Seven?"

"Oh he is in the ba-" Junior is cut of by

"What the Hell did you do?!" .357 shouts as he storms out of the back room.

"I what?" 7.62 replies with confusion.

"You, named the "Loose Hammer" have a bounty of 200,000 50bmg. What the Fuck did you do?!" .357 shouts.

"Shit"