( As it turns out, it's a good thing Clint didn't go home. What happens occurs sometime after he intervened for some other asshole with a bow — turns out he inadvertently bow-cheated on his bow-work wife.
Anyway, the problem isn't with the raiders; Clint will find their corpses sinking into the pavement, halfway melded into blacktop, road lines on their skin, fingertips jutting out at odd angles like shark fins. They've been lying in place for a while.
It makes for a nice breadcrumb trail to find Mister Big Bad Punisher, sunk up to his knees around the side of a building, his back pressed against a wall, and both hands bringing down what looks like a crowbar in a painstaking effort to bust up the sidewalk around his calves. He's put a pretty good dent in it, but he's sweating his ass off. The problem is less about his stamina, though, and more about the fact that being a one man job means he's sinking just about as fast as he's digging himself out. )
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( As it turns out, it's a good thing Clint didn't go home. What happens occurs sometime after he intervened for some other asshole with a bow — turns out he inadvertently bow-cheated on his bow-work wife.
Anyway, the problem isn't with the raiders; Clint will find their corpses sinking into the pavement, halfway melded into blacktop, road lines on their skin, fingertips jutting out at odd angles like shark fins. They've been lying in place for a while.
It makes for a nice breadcrumb trail to find Mister Big Bad Punisher, sunk up to his knees around the side of a building, his back pressed against a wall, and both hands bringing down what looks like a crowbar in a painstaking effort to bust up the sidewalk around his calves. He's put a pretty good dent in it, but he's sweating his ass off. The problem is less about his stamina, though, and more about the fact that being a one man job means he's sinking just about as fast as he's digging himself out. )