Back to I'm not a thief, I'm a treasure hunter
What, you want to hear another story about that dump? I guess since I told you about it you're bound to want to know what happens next, huh? I'll tell you about where I went next, the cafeteria where I used to eat my meals when I was stationed there. From what I remember this was one of the first times I actually ran into other people, come to think of it. I actually dealt with these guys pretty well, hell, I even did it the honest way this time! The right way usually isn't the easy way, I'm glad this time it actually was.
I carried my quarry on my back, the topheavy pack shifting across my shoulders as I walked down the stairs from the conex. After a quick look down the alley I decided it was safe and walked down the paved street, a look of satisfaction spread across my face while I walked toward the DFAC in hopes of scavenging a meal. I had a bit of food with me in my pack, but decided the best option possible would be to use my reserve only in emergencies.
I walked up the short slope toward the dining hall, once full of people, always with a meters long line outside waiting for food. After pushing the rusted doors open I walked cautiously inside, noticing footprints in the caked dust. I pulled my pistol out of its holster and held it at the ready in the event of confrontation as I walked into the main hall. After I'd cleared my way around the corner I set my bag full of loot under the counter so I could maintain what element of stealth I had. I walked through the hall loading my pistol as I backed into the pantry to find what preserved goods I could.
Walking into the larder the footsteps grew more varied and frequent, one pair of them looked surprisingly big, I knew I was either going to have to negotiate or survive one hell of a firefight. I peered around the corner for a quick moment and noticed three rifles propped against the wall, I wasn't going to risk it today, a meal wasn't worth a stacked fight for survival. I stepped cautiously around the corner and held my pistol down, pointing it toward the floor before saying a quick hello.
"What do you want?"
"I was wondering if you wanted to trade for some of that food."
"Some loot and some cash, not a whole lot else."
"Three bucks a can, take it or leave it"
After rummaging through my pockets I found a couple of $5 bills and handed them over in exchange for a few cans of mixed carrots, peas, and corn. Walking to my pack I heard footsteps following me and instinctively wheeled around to face my stalker, pistol still pointed to the floor. The stalker backed away several steps after I slowly and deliberately pulled the hammer of my pistol back to show my intent, I wasn't going to pay and then take trouble from some local squatter for a meal. Stepping back toward my pack, I pulled it up onto my back and shuffled forward slowly, ensuring the man in front of me was on his way out. Walking out toward the exit I noticed I was no longer being followed, but to ensure my security I wedged the door shut before moving on.
Forward to survival of the fittest