Today has been a lucky day, and a smile spreads across your face inside your helmet.
The highway you've taken is clearer than any you've come across in months. Maybe the local militia managed to quarantine the town, or maybe this was just a pissant part of the country.
Either way, it felt good to ride smooth and fast without weaving in and out of cars at 10 MPH.
You see an approaching sign that signals an exit 3 miles down the road. As you check your gas, you see you're running low.
You check your [[gas gauge|into the town]]The tank is almost at empty. You remember the last time you had to stop for gas and immediately push the thought back.
Some things are better left compartmentalized.
The sun is starting to set, and you figure now is as good a time as any to check out the town so close to such a clear stretch of highway.
[[Exit the Highway|entry]]As you pull into the town, it's clear that this was more of the pissant variety than the militia regulated one.
The exit leads right into the main square of the town, of which there is little to see. A few burnt down store fronts, some empty cars, but no corpses in sight.
*Somebody cleaned this place up, I should:*
[[Check out the buildings in town|buildings]]
[[Check the cars for some gas|gas]]The buildings around you remind you of those few months, long before any of this shit went down, when you lived in a small house in the middle of no where.
The house could barely be called a house, the walls were just panelling, and during the summer you walked around with your own room fan, and during the winter you wore three layers of clothes and socks on your hands with holes cut for your fingers.
You'd walk outside, and people would wave. You'd go down the street and there was everything you'd need: the public library, the post office, the family owned stores, the bar, the bank.
You hated it.
And as though your memories had come to life, it was all in front of you, made real in the worst way off the side of the highway. But this time you smiled, turning your head knowing that behind you, you'd see the bank.
And there she was in all her glory. And more importantly, a car right there in front of her.
[[Check out the car|car]]You drive your motorcycle to the nearest car and turn it off. You've done this a million times before and as your stepping off you've already pulled the tube from your bag and untied a small jug from your pack.
You find the gas tank, shove the tube in, blow, and wait for the [[inevitable dissapointment|gas1]].You hear the splash of liquid hit the bottom of your jug and you can't help but be surprised.
*Serendipity, you sweet sweet son of a bitch.*
You immediately begin to scan your surroundings, already suspicious of your good fortune, but you see nobody behind you.
When the jug is full, you pour the gas into your bike. As you stand up, you get a good look at the building in front of you and smile. Thank whatever the hell screwed up the world for big banks in small towns.
[[Enter the Bank|bank]]The building in front of you is not, nor was it ever, impressive.
Short, squat, with cheap blinds lining sturdy windows. The sign on the door said closed.
You chuckle to yourself, snorting a bit.
Banks, if they were empty, were some of your favorite places to sleep in the night. Bullet-proof glass, vaults, counters, hiding spaces, it had everything to make you feel safe.
If someone wasn't already there, that is.
[[Look through the windows|windows]]
[[Go inside|inside]]You drive your motorcycle to the car and turn it off. You've done this a million times before and as your stepping off you've already pulled the tube from your bag and untied a small jug from your pack.
You find the gas tank, shove the tube in, blow, and wait for the [[inevitable dissapointment|gas2]].You hear the splash of liquid hit the bottom of your jug and you can't help but be surprised.
*Serendipity, you sweet sweet son of a bitch.*
You immediately begin to scan your surroundings, already suspicious of your good fortune, but you see nobody behind you.
You smile at your good fortune. Luck like this doesn't line up very often, but occasionally, the universe stacks the deck in your favor and it's just ace, after ace, after ace.
You look up at the bank, feeling like today is definitely one of those lucky days.
[[Enter the Bank|bank]]Crouching, you head towards the windows of the building.
As you peer inside, you see some couches with missing cushions, a few chairs, and some trash on the ground.
You watch for a few minutes, and see no signs of movement or life.
Maybe someone was in there, but you were armed, dangerous, and feeling lucky.
You stand up, and [[walk through the doors|inside]]You push open the doors and they open with a creak. You instantly draw your knife and prepare for someone to rush you, but no one does.
The air in the bank is stale, and you see a bag of cheetos on the floor.
As you walk towards it, you kick it, and wait to see [[the roaches|ready for bed]].The bag moves slightly away as you kick it, but no bugs or rodents come out of it.
You smile to yourself. *No bugs, no rats, means this bag is oooooold.*
As you move around the bank, you check each corner, each room, behind the tellers and under couches, and you find no sign that anyone is there.
Comfortable, you make your way to the reason you were so happy to see the bank: [[the vault|vault]].The vault is large and filled with empty slots where safe deposit boxes once were. The air is even more stale in here, and dust fills the rooms.
But none of that really matters, as your mind is focused purely on one thing in the middle of the room.
A deck of cards, sitting perfectly in the middle of the floor.
You feel instantly uneasy, but if today has been as lucky as it has been, then maybe this was nothing.
[[Pick Up the Cards|card intro]]
[[Double-Check the Bank|no card intro]]You bend down to pick up the cards. You begin counting them, getting ready to find that the deck is short, but:
*Fourty-nine, fifty, fifty-one...*
Not only were there 52 cards in the deck, but there was even a joker. You let out a laugh, snorting a bit as you do.
"Well you seem in high spirits, care to play a game?"
[[Turn around calmly|calm intro]]
[[Turn around with your knife up and ready to cut|aggressive intro]]As you turn around you see a woman standing in front of you with a hatchet in her hand, a gun on her belt, and a smile on her face.
"Care to play a game?" She asks you calmly.
You stare at her, unsure of what to do.
[[Attack her|aggressive intro]]
[[Say hello|calm intro]]Your knife comes up from your side and as it does, quick as lightning, her arm pulls back and she throws her hatchet directly at your face:
Everything goes [[black|headache]].You smile, trying to take in as many details of the woman that you can see.
Leather jacket.
Short hair.
Steel-toed boots
One gun, one hatchet, likely a knife hidden around her ankle.
A surprisingly charming smile.
"Hey," you say, staying cool and collected. "There's no need for any violence, I really don't have much to give."
She looks at you with a stare that is somewhere between understanding and condemning. "You have the gas you took from car."
You try to get a baring on the situation. She has the draw on you, and nobody you meet in the world anymore is nice.
"Hey, I didn't know it belonged to anyone. We can work this out."
Her smile widens. "Or! We can play for it."
[["Sure!"|sure lets play]]
[["Fuck that, you seem psychotic."|fuck no]]
[[Say nothing|playing games]]WAKE UP AND PLAYIN BLACKJACK TIED UP"Absolutely! I haven't played a card game with another person in months. So we're playing for the gas? And then that's it, no problems and we're good?"
You feel uncomfortable, but when you're dealing with crazy people holding hatchets, sometimes it's best to just entertain them a bit.
She giggles. "No, we're playing for more than gas. I get bored. We're playing for your life. You win, you keep the gas, leave the town, and we pat ourselves on the back. You lose, you die!"
[[What game are we playing?|playing games]]
[[You're fucking psycho|insult]]
[[Say nothing|say nothing1]]She bursts out laughing and smiles at you.
"Oh man, you haven't seen anything yet."
She cocks her arm back, and before you can react, she throws the hatchet at your face.
[[Everything goes black.|headache]]"Holy shit, I like you! The game is Blackjack." She smiles wide and laughs, snorting a bit as she does. "Now, to be clear, I've got my gang outside, ready to come in here and splash your head against the walls if I give them the signal."
She pulls out a small electronic car lock.
"One beep from this and they'll come running. Or if I don't come out of here in about 10 minutes, they'll come in here and check. And if you try to cheat, then you won't have them to worry about." She pats her hip, where her gun is: a quick draw away.
"You ready to play?"
She starts setting up the cards.
[["Let's go," you say.|blackjack]]
[[Say nothing|blackjack]]She cocks her head to the side a bit, looking at you quizzically.
"And you're not? If you're alive right now, you've had to do some real nasty shit I bet, and if you're not a LITTLE crazy, then I just might actually be the one who should be nervous."
She pulls out her gun and points it at you. "Luckily I've got this! And my gang outside. And ways to communicate with them. And schedules set up to check on me. I may be crazy, but I'm god damn organized."
She puts her gun away and stares at you. "We're playing Blackjack. Best out of five wins."
You cannot believe this is happening.
She looks at you with a twinkle in her eyes. "Let's [[play|blackjack]]."She looks at you, waiting for you to say something.
"Okay, okay, the strong silent type. I get it. I dig it. Well then I won't bother explaining the rules! We're playing blackjack. Best out of five wins. Let's [[play|blackjack]]."PLAYIN BLACKJACK