Heading out from the cafe in the morning, a D6 roll meant I blissfully sailed over a minefield unscathed to the tune of 1 additional Luck point and ended up at a junction where I headed east. My goal was to the south, but by now I had figured out that progression in this book means finding extra fuel, so heading off the shortest route might be the way forward. Above my chosen route was a railway bridge and as I passed underneath, a man appeared on top of the bridge and pushed a stone pillar off the top into my path. A successful Skill test meant I avoided the pillar, I came to stop and decided to go after this dick. He might have fuel. Carefully climbing the side of the railway embankment, revolver in hand, I came to the top and found my assailant rushing out of a caravan, and carrying a bag, towards his bike.
Oddly, the choice to pursue and find out what was so valuable in that bag was not given and all I could do was watch him roar off into the distance. I took solace in being able to loot his caravan and turfed up a grenade and a tin of corned beef. What more could a man want?
The answer is of course some fuel as I soon realised I had driven down another dead-end in my adventure as I was again being asked if I had any spare canisters of petrol. I did not, and so I went back to the previous junction and tried heading south. Taking this route eventually led me to a dirt road that led off to to the side, clearly someone had driven down here very recently and I decided to see who it was. It was Chuck Norris.
A gate barred me from going any further down the road, Chuck had a machine gun on me and wanted to know who I was. I told him I was from the Black Rats gang, which he had never heard of, probably because I had just made them up. He was quite happy for me to come in, trying to get me involved in a race. A logical choice given that petrol is probably the most valuable substance on the planet right now. What drew me in though was the prize… a can of petrol! I had to place a bet of 200 credits, the world of Blitz Racing was a popular one as many other parties were there placing their bets too. My race would be a one-on-one affair against some guy in a yellow Ford down an 8km track to a white house and back again – no rockets allowed. A girl dropped a white towel between us and a Skill test sent me shooting off ahead, leaving an angry faced Ford driver in my dust. Catching me in what must be a supercharged vehicle, my opponent rammed my Interceptor at high speed. Keeping the car under control with a Luck test I accelerated ahead only to break short of the grenade the Ford had launched ahead of me. Narrowly avoiding the subsequent explosion did however mean that the Ford had again caught me and delivered another ram, this time deducting 2 Armour points, and then accelerated ahead of me.
Now it was my turn, but my attempt at ramming only served to deal 2 more points of Armour damage to the Interceptor as the Ford was equipped with steel-plated crash bars, protecting it from impact. Swerving left and right, my opponent was blocking my attempts to overtake, but another successful Skill roll took me past him and into a position to use some of my rear-facing weapons. Setting a load of iron spikes down behind me I Luckily caught one of his tyres, only to the extent of causing a slow puncture, but keeping him far enough behind me to take the grenade launcher out of the equation. More ramming was exchanged as both vehicles hit a U-turn at the white house to make the return leg of the race which took us across a narrow bridge. I had to keep my nerve as there was only room for one vehicle, I kept my foot on the accelerator and with a Skill roll I got across the bridge first as my opponent lost his nerve and braked.
The finish line was in sight and the supercharged Ford was bearing down on me, unable to deal with his speed I would have to try to block him. A simple choice of left or right was given to me. I chose left, the same as the Ford, he couldn’t find a way through and with that final act I had won the Blitz Race! A can of petrol and 1 Luck point were mine! As I left, Chuck made a quick check about the name of the gang I was in, seemingly trying to catch me out, but I remembered the Black Rats was my cover story and he let me leave unchallenged.
I left the racetrack, heading south and came across a sign by the road-side, ‘Pete makes your engines sweet. One mile to the left’. My engine could do with being a bit sweeter, so let’s go see Peter.
Two hours, two med-kits and one-hundred credits later and I was roaring out of Petes workshop with a supercharged engine guzzling all my petrol. Hope this was worth it… Heading further south and another Interceptor came into view, it’s owner had apparently had a bad day.
Stopping to see what I could salvage, I got myself a new tyre, investigating the inside of the can got me a snake-bite. You see my character is an idiot who doesn’t know what a rattlesnake sounds like and decided to open up the cars rattling glove-box, promptly getting bitten and losing 1 Skill and 2 Stamina! A med-kit eased the pain, but didn’t restore any stats, I did however find a length of plastic tubing in the car which I took with me. Driving off from the wreckage, and sure enough, it didn’t take long for someone else to paint a big red target on me…
Tearing up behind me was a motorcycle and side-car team, peppering me with machinegun fire to the loss of 1 Armour point. Some defensive maneuvering was required and so I dropped a spray of oil across the road and my pursuers were left rolling away into the distance behind me. The text again asked me if I had any spare petrol to use, so I poured the winnings of my Blitz Racing into the Interceptor and set off as night began to fall. Onsetting darkness did not obscure the wrecked police car at the side of the road though, I pulled over and prised the boot open using the crowbar I found earlier. Nice little find too as I discovered a bullet-proof vest, giving me 1 Luck and, considering the penalties I’ve incurred so far, a very valuable 1 Skill. What I discovered next was that parked just ahead of me, was an absolute nutcase.
This guy had converted his truck into a sort of chariot shaped vehicle, with scythes on the wheels and somehow he’d managed to get his hands on what seems like a Centurion’s helmet. And of course he was bare-chested – who wouldn’t be. Regardless, I blew him to pieces quite quickly, only taking a couple of hits.
Further down the road, a sign indicated that a workshop was just off the side and would offer repairs, investigating further revealed a friendly who was willing to weld some extra plating onto the Interceptor for 200 credits, I agreed and gained 10 Armour points.
Ahead was a tunnel blocked by a bus, as I drove up a man jumped out of the front door and announced that he wouldn’t be letting me past unless I either paid him 200 credits or beat him in a pistol duel. Not having any money left, I had little choice but to indulge his old-school chivalry.
After winning a single attack round against him, he thanked me for such an honourable challenge, shifted his bus out of the way and sent me on my way, warning me of potential landslides in the upcoming canyon. What a nice man.
We can’t be far off San Anglo now, maybe we’ll get there in part three…