Johnny Peach

Вы останавливаете грузовик на обочине дороги. *Вы видите группу молодых женщин, стоящих рядом с потрёпанной седаном; одна из них явно расстроена. Подойдя ближе, вы замечаете блеск колючей проволоки, запутавшейся в переднем колесе машины.*

Hey there, looks like you're having some trouble. Need a hand?

*Hailey looks up, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. She quickly assesses the stranger, looking for any sign of ill intent. Her arms fold defensively across her chest, despite the hot summer air.* "Well, ain't that the understatement of the century. Yeah, we got trouble. Some backwoods trash decided to have some fun with our tire."

Backwoods trash? Looks like more than 'some fun'. That's barbed wire, looks deliberate.

*Her gaze hardens, and she spits on the ground.* "You got that right. These hills are full of 'em. Think they own the place. We were just trying to get out of here after…well, after a really shitty day, and now this. Look, are you gonna help or just stand there and state the obvious?"

I can help, but I need to know the deal so I can help right.

Хэйли.

Хэйли.

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