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*~Loriee~*


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She sighed, grabbing her shotgun.
"Aw, I haven't even gotten a chance to clean myself off and these bastards want me to clean this joint up..."
Loriee shook her head, mumbling to herself as she left the room. Although she wasn't pissed, she was clearly annoyed by this whole aspect. She arrived at the gate shortly after Hector, and, unable to stop herself, made a smart a** remark.
"I told you we should have used flamethrowers. Ashes are so much easier to clean up than servered, bloodied limbs."
"If there were any flamethrowers in New York, everything would be ashes. There would be one dumb-a** to go running around with it." Hector's natural leadership kicked in. "Alright, everyone, I want a big pile of the L.I.'s outside of the wall, and any zombie you don't see with a bullet in it's head, give it one." He got to work on prying the fence off.
Rita rushed towards the northern gate and reached it just in time to hear Hector's order. One of the guards had handed her a gun on the way out, a pistol by the looks of it. Nonetheless, she immediately started work, helping a few others out on cleaning. Rita absent mindedly did her job. She was worrying too much about the so called vaccine the man was talking about. Vaccine, what vaccine? If Dad was thinking about making a cure then he might as well forget it...there is no cure...but why didn't he tell me? A lot of doctors were trying to find a cure, it's not that big of a secret...
Hector, with a few other officers, tore down the fence. A pile of zombies supported by the fence tumbled down with it. The rank stench spread out farther. "Ugh," he groaned as he stepped over the corpses. "Let's start that pile!"
*~Loriee~*


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While fighting had not been much of a problem for her, suddenly, the stench of the corpses was getting to her. She coughed, putting an arm up to her mouth, choking back the bile that was rising up in her throat.
((shoot... I'm so sorry for my absence recently, I've been busy lately, mainly with my art class.))
Ms. LaFaye


Darkness was almost normal now in the school teacher's apartment, right along with silence. Currently the woman was lacing up her tennis shoes and tying her hair into a tight bun. Long locks weren't exactly the smartest or safest to have but Alex just hadn't thought to take a pair of scissors to herself. Despite the passage of time she was probably still in shock. Not completely unreasonable given the circumstances. But it really didn't matter anyway, the point was she needed clean water and something to eat and if she had to fight those things all the better to have her hair out of easy grabbing range.
The same rule applied to clothing. She didn't exactly like the outfit, but it was practical for the excursion. Alexandra had learned the hard way that loose comfy clothes weren't exactly choice attire for a zombie invasion. So her options were limited, and without taking the time to alter her regular clothes the gag outfit from christmas would work just fine. A pair of skin tight black pants and the matching sleeveless top which, unfortunately, had a rather low v-neck that she had no safety pins to clip shut. The outfit had been thrust upon her by her brothers and she had been forced to parade around the kitchen in it, red as brick. Sure it wasn't that bad really and the belts that came with it made good holsters now. It was just that it wasn't her style at all and her siblings had used that and her single status to tease her until she had been ready to strangle them all.
Taking a breath and putting a stop to the reminising Alex opened the door to her apartment and left, making sure to lock up.

It didn't take long to walk to the store. As she had learned during the first day her rust bucket of a car, while trustworthy, made far too much noise to be safe. Better off to walk quietly and calmly down the street since it wasn't too far and she could take care of anything that came after her rather easily as long as there weren't too many and she stayed in area's she knew. Uneasy, as usual, Alexandra held onto the handle of her kitchen knife so tight her knuckles turned white. Her second weapon was stuck firmly in her belts. A rather unimpressive weapon, if it could even be classified as such. What used to be a yard-stick, broken and stained with what she could only assume was cherry filling. Or perhaps blood, that was possible too. Alex had been holding onto it for dear life when she had left the school the first day of the invasion and hadn't had the heart to get rid of it.
((I wonder... is this like something from Left 4 Dead?))
As the last corpses was piled up, Hector grabbed a previously prepared Molotov cocktail and lit it. He tossed it onto the giant pile, and it was almost instantly consumed in flames. The brilliant light of the fire cause Hector to turn away and hold his nose. Burning rotting flesh smelled worse than regular rotting flesh. He made his way back into the walls.
*~Loriee~*


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This time, Loriee could not hold it in. She turned, and was violently ill on the side of the street.
Weakling.
Ugh. But she couldn't stop it. Soon she was on her knees, shaking. Her throat burned and her nose burned and she couldn't stop retching.
((I guess there's nothing to do but do a variation of friend-with-hangover-from-party-throws-up-in-toilet-while-friend-just holds-back-hair-and-tries-to-stop-it.))

Hector made his way over to Loriee, who was currently emptying her stomach into a sewer. He frowned and sat down on his haunches beside her out of range of her vomit. In a time like this, there was nothing else to do but hold back her hair and try and get her to stop. But for now, he just held back her hair, because anything that smells that rank will not just go away in an instant.
*~Loriee~*


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She collapsed into Hector's arms, exhusted from her wave of nausia. She shook, almost sick again, due to the sheer fact that what she did was so cowardly.
Hector stood up, holding Loriee steady. He took a bandanna out of his pocket and wiped her mouth with it. "Let's get you something to rinse your mouth out." He helped her to his truck, where he gave her a bottle of water. Leaving Loriee to tend for herself in the back seat, he roamed through his glove compartment, where he found his old iPhone. "Oh, sweet."
*~Loriee~*


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She sat in the back, shaking. She tenatively took sips of the water, trying to get rid of the taste in her mouth and the burning in her throat. She still shook from the shook of the feeling.
"Try gargling the water and spitting it out. That'll get the taste out of a lot of places," Hector told her as he dug deeper through his glove compartment. Soon, he had already pocketed $200, a Swiss army pocket knife, his driver's license and insurance, and his iHome.

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