Night Walkers and the American Way

As Nolan and the Overlord stacked by the door, a howl screeched across the quiet lands. Nolan kicked the door open and unloaded his pistol into the creature skulking around the property. The Overlord rounded the corner to see a being towering over the house, it's face a horror like never imagined before. It shrieked and raised it's arms when a legion of F-80's punched through the darkness and opened fire at the being. The BPA-100 was flying alongside them and dropped out of formation and landed in front of the creature. Bash, operating the BPA-100, activated the fire-cyclone ability of the armor and began to cook the being. 

However, it wasn't just the F-80's. The entire legion under Bubba's command had arrived in the United States. Bubba was leading the ground assault in one of the most unique tanks of World War Two, the Sherman Crab. The barbed wire flail ripping eldritch horrors into bloody chunks. As the heavy armor of the ORSF began their attacks, the creatures began to flee. As Bubba opened the hatch of the Sherman Crab, he laughed as the creatures bolted away from them. 

Good timing Bubba!

Thanks to that recovery beacon, you both got lucky Overlord.

What's our next move?

Load up, we're making our way to Ottawa. The F-80's will continue to rain havoc as we press forwards. We have a Sherman Crab for you two.

Thanks Bubba.

Nolan, and the Overlord board the Sherman Carb and begin following the convoy towards Ottawa.

Eldritch horrors begin trying to run them down, Specimen Z zombies get shredded by the flails as rush the convoy.

ALRIGHT EVERYONE! FLAILS TO MAXIMUN POWER! AS WE GET CLOSER TO THE DARKER AREAS SHIT WILL GET DICEY!

ROGER THAT SIR!

As the convoy enters the "Dark Zone" Skinwalkers and other cryptids begin rushing the convoy. The convoy was completely sealed into their vehicles as the hordes descended upon them. They went even as far to build a jungle cutter dozer that was front and center ripping apart anything that tried to reach the convoy. The massive convoy was slow moving but had plenty of armor to keep them safe. 

This convoy hadn't gone unnoticed by the Cryptid Nazis. They launched everything they had at the United States, but nothing was making it past the F-80's nor the AC-130 gunship keeping the US Airspace clear. As the convoy reached the Mississippi River separating Iowa from Illinois, the Convoy pushed through Davenport and across the bridge. The flails splattered blood all over as cryptids and zombies were ripped to shreds.

Nothing beats Midwestern Hospitality to foreign invaders am I right?

Bubba, that shit is demented.

Only if you're a non-human entity trying to murder us. If you ask me, they got too comfortable.

Bash shook his head as he listened over the comms. As the convoy reached the Illinois side of the bridge, field dwellers, a kind of cryptid all Illinoisans were familiar with, decided they wanted a peace of the action. They began charging convoy from the sides, where ORSF member pumped them full of lead as they approached the convoy. 

Aye Bubba, we'll get over run if we don't pick up the pace.

Copy that, all units let's put some horses to the pavement!  

As the convoy increased speed, an O-60 tank was thrown out of formation by a singular wendigo. 

FUCK! ALL GUNNERS TARGET THAT WENDIGO! INCREASE SPEED AS WELL!

NAH! FOCUS ON THE ONES BLOCKING OUR PATH! I'VE GOT THIS!

Bash jumped into action and tackled the Wendigo to the ground. He fire-cycloned the wendigo causing it to screech and cry. It's small hand retracted and it tried to bite down on the BPA-100, but Bash dodge it, pulling himself into the air as he then unloaded a solid stream of bullets into it. The wendigo crept back away from the bullets but remained on the prowl, awaiting the perfect time to strike. Bash, knowing he was waiting, pulled the bazooka off of his chest plate and fired at the wendigo, knocking it off the bridge into the Mississippi below. 

WENDIGO IS OFF THE BRIDGE! RUN THROUGH THE REST OF EM!

Copy that, all units maximum speed! We need to keep pushing!

Hours passed and day finally broke. The Sherman Crabs were repainted in the yellowish blood of zombies and black blood of cryptids. 

Listen up everyone, I know you're all tired, but we push for the Rock Island Arsenal then we keep going. We can rest once we're in Ottawa!

As the tired convoy made their way to the arsenal, the comms were silent, and the sound of treads was all that echoed across the Quad Cities.