Deathclaws, that sound could never be mistaken for anything else... But how did he know? No matter. A single deathclaw was more of a threat then even ten humans. Once more he rolled, and knee crawled to the ledge, looking down the 'lane' as he hid behind the rock. "Becca, hide." He ordered, staring down the scope at his mark, one deathclaw, he wasn't sure if there were more. Deal with teh visible threat, more will come if they notice a packmate fall. Wait, packs? His thumb brushed the safety, a rehersed, practiced motion before the kill, insuring he was ready to fire. But he had to wait...<br/><br/>Wait... For what? For a running mark to climb the ridge with another over their shoulder? They looked human, or humanoid enough. The savage monsters would likely attack the dead, or much less lucky living riders who were gunned down. One eye on the girl, Jynx, one painting the closest beast to her. Weakpoints... Their skin was touch, redundantly so. Artery? Too much muscle and hide in the way. Ligaments? Also overly protected... Hearing canals, too desprate a shot. Eyes were not much better, but better none the less. Hit from any angle, he could rupture the obtic orb of jelly. He needed an opening then, and Jynx was between him and the mark. if it rounded on her, assuming her first hit didn't kill, then he could shoot over her head. She was small, expecially compared to it. But he would need higher ground to remove any chance of error.<br/><br/>Atop the rocks? Too open. The car? A deathtrap. Standing beside the rocks, maybe. yet as all of this processed in his mind, he was oblivious to what the human mechanic was seeing. She was seeing him, with the hat and rag gone from his head, the only opening in the rubber hood of his head covering mask was visible. A metal plate, jarred half off with wires sticking out, and hits of circuit chips below was afixed to, and into his skull. Along hte back of his sould, about the shoulderblades and halfways down his back, running along the spinal cord, was a series of chitin styled metal plates, protecting an assortment of tech. Tech far beyond what most of the wastes could ever immagine in their wildest nightmares or dreams... And if she listened, she might, in teh din and surreal silence of the moment, the perverbial eye of the storm before a million things transpired all at once... She might have heard...<br/><br/>She might have heard his radio... A madness all it's own...<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>