Post by mike on Sept 28, 2009 16:18:32 GMT -5
Mike lay under a old Dodge Ram removing the power steering. He figured it needed to be cleaned, and oiled, it had been sitting for a year, but was in surprisingly good shape, he had already cleaned and repaired the breaks, removed pointless or ruined wiring, welded a bar under the bumper to the frame, and welded a machine gun mount to the truck bed. Now he was waiting on the chain gun itself.
For the state the world was in, this place was doing very well. It had plenty of the tools he needed, and adequate space for him to work.
He loosened the last bolt on the steering and it dropped down, he brought it over to the table and immediately saw the problem, there were cracks all along the box that was letting pressure out when the hydraulic system was activated.
“shit he thought. should I bother repairing this? Maybe I can find anther pickup out in the streets…
He light up another cigarette and walked over to a ambulance that he had got running. The pickup would have to wait.
He looked it up and down, the inside was full of piss and shit and blood, some fucking outsider had taken up residence in it. But mike had gotten it running, now he needed to outfit it for the field. All the medical equipment had been destroyed, but what was left still hung off the walls, he was goanna need to get rid of it all and put new stuff in, and finding it was goanna be a chore.
He walked over to a power washer, it had originally been busted, but mike had fixed the engine in it. He hooked the hose up to tank up water he had got from the river.
He started to spay out the ambulance interior, most of the blood and feces came off with ease, but so did a lot of the paint.
He kept spraying till it was all gone, the torrent from the nozzle kicking up a small cloud of mist.
He shut off the pressure washer and looked at the ambulance.
Did anybody in this damn place even know how to be a medic?
Oh well, cross that bridge later.
He like this canopy they used as a motor pool, it was cool under here, but not cold.
He walked over to the Yamaha. He had removed the face plate to fix some dents, apparently it was the leaders bike, but he wanted to hear that thing rev. he started it up with one of the many keys he had been given and cranked the throttle.
It gave a pleasing Rev and he shut it off. It was doing well, but if she rode it to hard he would have a lot of work to do.
He puffed on his sig and looked at his rig. It wasn’t really under the canopy but the back of the traler’s ramp was sticking in to the motor pool. The trailer on it had a few “parts cars” he had gathered. Maybe he could get a new steering off of one of those cars…..
For the state the world was in, this place was doing very well. It had plenty of the tools he needed, and adequate space for him to work.
He loosened the last bolt on the steering and it dropped down, he brought it over to the table and immediately saw the problem, there were cracks all along the box that was letting pressure out when the hydraulic system was activated.
“shit he thought. should I bother repairing this? Maybe I can find anther pickup out in the streets…
He light up another cigarette and walked over to a ambulance that he had got running. The pickup would have to wait.
He looked it up and down, the inside was full of piss and shit and blood, some fucking outsider had taken up residence in it. But mike had gotten it running, now he needed to outfit it for the field. All the medical equipment had been destroyed, but what was left still hung off the walls, he was goanna need to get rid of it all and put new stuff in, and finding it was goanna be a chore.
He walked over to a power washer, it had originally been busted, but mike had fixed the engine in it. He hooked the hose up to tank up water he had got from the river.
He started to spay out the ambulance interior, most of the blood and feces came off with ease, but so did a lot of the paint.
He kept spraying till it was all gone, the torrent from the nozzle kicking up a small cloud of mist.
He shut off the pressure washer and looked at the ambulance.
Did anybody in this damn place even know how to be a medic?
Oh well, cross that bridge later.
He like this canopy they used as a motor pool, it was cool under here, but not cold.
He walked over to the Yamaha. He had removed the face plate to fix some dents, apparently it was the leaders bike, but he wanted to hear that thing rev. he started it up with one of the many keys he had been given and cranked the throttle.
It gave a pleasing Rev and he shut it off. It was doing well, but if she rode it to hard he would have a lot of work to do.
He puffed on his sig and looked at his rig. It wasn’t really under the canopy but the back of the traler’s ramp was sticking in to the motor pool. The trailer on it had a few “parts cars” he had gathered. Maybe he could get a new steering off of one of those cars…..