It was a good sign that the small mutants scuttled away, although the encounter left him with his hands drenched in sweat from the firm grip he had held his shotgun with, but Thickard could not see them anymore after they had scurried into the wasteland.
Thickard kept an ear out to his officer...
Wayne Thickard did not enjoy trudging his recently polished boots through the ash and muck. He was glad enough that little got on his coat.
He kept an eye on the horizon, praying that no aberrations were lurking about, so far it hasn't been particularly worrisome. He had comrades nearby if...
Wayne Thickard was seated in the back of the armored bus, he wasn't quite sure how long he has been in it. Not that it bothered him, anyway.
Sitting on the edge of his seat, his elbows resting on his thighs, leaning over his reliable shotgun clasped between his two, slightly disfigured hands...
NAME
Wayne Thickard
AGE
28
APPEARANCE
An ugly, balding man, whatever hair he has left is black in color. He has brown eyes a slightly crooked nose.
Wayne's back aches with pain and has left him with poor posture, he is not glamorous to look at.
His hands writhe with callus from the years of...