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Enduring Businessman

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Devon Ridley
______________________________



Devon curled up tightly trying to ignore the pain in the muscles that were now seizing up from his short walk. If this situation did go sour he wasn't in any condition to be sprinting for any distance. He removed his pack and placed it amongst the trash next to the dumpster sprinkling it with snow for good measure. That would make running easier as he could always go back for his things.

The shaking in his body increased as a voice addressed Anders and his dog. It got worse when he realized this mystery voice was well armed. As quietly as he could manage the young male shifted his position so that he was laying on the ground with the blanket wrapped about him. The snow was clinging to the fibers and the heat from his body was starting to make the blanket grow damp. Squeezing his eyes shut he forced himself to go limp, to play dead or the closest thing to dead that he could manage. There was no sport in killing someone on death's door anyway right? They would leave him be right?

Worried for his new friend he listened from his position on the ground. It didn't sound good. Not long after the exchange of words between the two men in front of the dumpster there was some loud a** shouting something about being marines.... Oh great, just what he needed remnants of a government that he didn't care to trust even before everything went to hell.

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                                                            tab ► Even with a response, Stray didn't move, not until he felt certain the other wasn't going to pull a fast one on him. So he rose from his place, making himself know as he holstered his weapon. "Eh. Food is food, doesn't matter if it requires prep or not." He said, moving to give the place a quick look over. There really wasn't much, except a few things here or there, mostly candy, but that wasn't going to help him out. "Kinda wish they had the MREs. Those things are good despite what people might say." He eventually made his way behind the counter and checked what was left of the cigarettes.

                                                            tab ► He gave some thought to the storm, but he wasn't to worried about it. After all, he'd been through worse things than a snow storm. "Got a place you're going to be holing up in? If not, I recommend the homeless shelter or the recreational center." He pulled a pack of Marlboro off the shelf finding it to be the only thing here worth smoking. "Library works too. Plenty of stuff to start and keep a fire going." He shrugged and slipped the pack into his cargo pocket before doing a quick check for anything useful, but it was clean. s**t, he could've used an extra lighter or two, but he could find them elsewhere.

                                                            tab ► With nothing suitable to be found out here, he moved towards the doors and pushed it open, looking at the small stock room. Most boxes were torn open, some emptied. He sighed and dug through, finding a number of canned goods and tidbits that hand been left behind, the male dropping his duffle bag and quickly loaded it with what he could find before zipping it up. Once again he slung the strap across his torso before leaving. "Alright, well, that seems about it for this place then." He gave a quick sigh and looked towards the door. He had to keep an eye out for anyone who might be passing by. It was better to hide than head out and try to make friends with someone who might put a bullet between his eyes.


                                                            ▌ ｃｌｏｔｈｉｎｇ : Day One xxxx▌ ｌｏｃａｔｉｏｎ : Convenient Shop xxxx▌ ｍｕｓｉｃ : Lift Me Up - Radioactive xxxx
                                                            ▌ ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ : Civillian xxxx▌ ｏｏｃ : Sorry for the bad post. Not feeling so well.

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location: City streets || wearing: that coat mom got me last christmas
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Summer

so you're tired but you're alive
so open up your eyes
and you can get your sleep when you are dead
______________________

                                                          Summer nodded quickly to Sam, holding the Sig in both hands and trying to steel herself against the encounter. She followed Sam to the car, taking rough cover behind it - which, all her knowledge about action movies and war fiction aside, really just felt like an uncomfortable crouch. She tilted her head back to the alley, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw a man who looked as though he was down on his luck long before the entirety of the world was. He didn't look outwardly violent however, and in her time in the city, Summer had learned to not equate the word 'homeless' with the word 'criminal'.

                                                          She was just sliding her body up the car to get a wider view of the alleyway when a sudden shout caused her to flinch. She slid right back to where she was, head whipping over to try and identify the new voice. Something about curfews and the corps? Summer looked to Sam and found she was just as confused - though at least she was answering.

                                                          "No way," Summer whispered over, her voice shaky and slightly hoarse, "We haven't seen military since the quarantine zones broke down, and even then the curfew wasn't in the middle of the day." She sank a little further, nearly sitting on the ground now, "Looters tryin' to scare us. What do we do, Sam?"

                                                          She pulled the gun closer, her hands not quite quaking at the thought of shooting someone. But they were Division agents - at least, she was with Division agents - and they couldn't just walk away. The poor dirty man in the alleyway would be alone with two gun-toting sociopaths with delusions of superiority and probable PTSD. She took a deep breath - she had to stay calm, like Sam had said.
                                                ______________________

                                              when the times keep going wrong
                                              and we go right

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location: Beth Israel / stairwell || wearing: whatever keeps the cold out
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Lucas
he's a winner, he's a goddamn sinner
I walk around with my horns out now
but it's not easy to know
______________________

                                                          "I'm not alone, no." Lucas reached a hand into his jacket pocket and withdrew the radio again, splaying his fingers out to flash it to the kid. He didn't speak to it just yet, but kept it handy, "Me and another agent are scouting the place, just seeing if anything worth the trouble is left. It's really, ah, cursory." He scratched the side of his face with the hand that held the radio, stubble making a dry sound as it cracked under a short nail,"I don't really know what to grab either. We're supposed to come back with a team - with my sister, like I said. She can tell us."

                                                          Then he gave him that apologetic look you give people when you have to take a call in the middle of a conversation and brought the radio up, "Slatt, it's Nix. Two civs in here - girl and her brother. Rather not move out till you get down here, what's your situation?"

                                                          He lowered the radio and turned back towards the hallway that they'd come from, then back to the kids. "How much of this place you checked out?" He wasn't about to send the kid out on his own, but whatever he'd already seen could be useful, "Don't want to waste time gettin' you two somewhere safe. Where we pickin' up Mom from?" He was trying to work out the trip in his head - and the time they had left. If their mom was already sick, she didn't need to be holed up to weather out the storm by herself. He also didn't want to leave the hospital unscouted - or drag two kids through possibly hostile territory while they counted pill bottles. Then there was their rendezvous with the others, which might not be feasible if they had civilians to escort back to base.

                                                          He tucked the radio away; one thing at a time.

                                                          ______________________

                                                          you're the reason I cannot forget the season
                                                          or the lesson of how ape shall not kill ape

Raider

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            tab - tab Ｊ tab Ｏ tab Ｈ tab Ｎ tab tab tab Ｃ tab Ｈ tab Ａ tab Ｐ tab Ｅ tab Ｌ tab -


            ❝They are demonic spirits that perform signs, and they go out to the kings of the whole world, to gather them for the battle on the great day of God Almighty.❞ ─ Revelation 16:14


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            Soft voices echoed in the empty streets just below his apartment. Despite the howling wind, by John's reckoning there was two or three of them down there. You had to be certain about these things, but the man's guess is as good as any's. Besides there was no sound that came from anywhere else; New York City was dead. Nowadays your gut feeling was the only trustworthy source of information; uncertainty was the winter breeze piercing your jacket and stinging you with cold dread. No, John wouldn't risk confrontation with these visiting strangers. Nowadays 'strangers' took on the same meaning as scavengers, looters, and armed thugs; the latter being more than likely. No one needed to know this third floor studio apartment had someone living in it, or that it was amply supplied with food and water. Better to err on the side of caution as they used to say.

            Carefully, John opened a small slit on his window blinds with his fingers. He crouched down and had his rifle at the ready. At first he didn't see anyone besides the blanket of snow covering the dead city. It was like someone had made snow sculptures of cars and bodies on the streets overnight. Then he saw a fresh trail of broken snow going eastward; two buildings from his apartment to a convenience store across the street. He took the binoculars from the desk beside him and stared closely into the windows. A moment passed and he was certain that he saw movement inside the store. "s**t, should have checked that place yesterday. Might've found something.", he said to no one in particular. His face was a mix of tired, annoyed and curious; his default face. The open can of tuna in oil lingered in his other hand as he looked on, waiting on anything that gave away the group's identity or intention. He swallowed a spoonful of the canned fish. It tasted alright, as far as unrefrigerated canned food was concerned.

            He was considering dropping by later once the coast was clear, and clean out the remaining stock. If the other group doesn't do it for him that is.

            ████ ▌▌▌▌████████████████████████████████████████████ ▌▌▌▌████


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            ╔═══════ＳＴＡＴＵＳ═══════╗
            Event: Eating tuna and spying into the convenience store.
            Location: Apartments, 4th Floor. Base Camp
            Health:████████████████████ 100%
            Fatigue: █ 5%
            Hunger: █ 5%
            OOC: First post! Hallo peeps! Sorry if it was a shitty intro! :3

            ╚══════════════════════╝





            ╔═════ＩＮＶＥＮＴＯＲＹ═════╗
            Equipped - Primary: AK-104 with foregrip and a Tasco red dot sight.
            Sidearm: P&R M-47 "Medusa"
            CRKT FE9 tactical knife
            Canned tuna.

            ╚══════════════════════╝

            punday
            playing as: Cody Campbell

            BLStoner
            playing as: Stray Dog




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                                                                  tab ✖ Michael growled in frustration and caught their mistake. They had separated and left the driver of the hummer by herself, that would be a fatal flaw if it proved worthy. Michael reached up and clicked his radio on and spoke into it at a normal voice.

                                                                  tab ✖ "Gabe, you got the driver? I'm gonna make a move."

                                                                  tab ✖ Gabriel clicked his radio once in response, the action marking it affirmative. Michael kicked the glass door, the fragile cold glass shattering under his boot. As he stepped to the side his left side sheltered by the brick of the building from the alleyway he shouted as loud as he could his rifle poised on the hummer, his eyes scanning before he shot two rounds from his M16, the unsuppressed rounds breaking the wind and echoing off the city the rounds flying into the sky.

                                                                  tab ✖ "Last ******** chance! Return to your vehicle and clear the ******** out! If you are who you say you are, you will ******** listen! If we weren't military we would have no ******** clue who you are!"

                                                                  tab ✖ "Whoa brother, calm down."
                                                                  Gabriel was on edge like everyone else and he was sure that Michael's screaming wasn't going to help anybody in this situation any time soon. He held the silenced rifle tighter to his shoulder and fired one shot, the round striking the hood of the hummer as a preemptive warning.


                                                                  ▌ ｌｏｃａｔｉｏｎ : Office Building xxxx▌ ｍｕｓｉｃ : Title - Title xxxx
                                                                  ▌ ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ : Agents outside xxxx▌ ｏｏｃ : Everybody is on edge, let's throw more fuel to the fire! Gunshots for everyone!!

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            ➸┇frank S L A T T E R Y xxxxxxxxx
            ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅xxxxx


Paladin, paladin, where do you roam?
Paladin, paladin, far, far from home


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                                “Slatt, it's Nix. Two civs in here – a girl and her brother. Rather not move out till you get down here. What's your situation?”

                                Frank fumbled for his radio, other hand still tight on his pistol. “En route to your location, Nix. Got held up.” Probably best to leave it at that for now. It would have been nice to actually finish the scouting he'd intended to do, but they couldn't exactly sit on their hands if Lucas had found people. Getting them to the base would have to take priority, and Frank needed to move his a** over to the hospital before they got anything done.

                                He made for Beth Israel at a brisk pace, less cautious than he would have liked. Lucas had made it without getting shot, at least. Surely he could do the same. He saw no other signs of life, and considering his previous encounter, took that as a blessing. When he entered the lobby, he could hear voices coming from a nearby stairwell. One he could identify immediately as Lucas. The other, higher-pitched, he assumed was one of the civilian's. Frank kept his pistol in his hand, not quite trusting enough to holster it completely, but kept the muzzle pointed at the ground. “Nixon,” he said in a low voice, just before entering the room. “It's me.” He saw the kids, dressed in what apparently were the first warm clothes they could find, and nodded a curt greeting. They looked...fine. Uninjured, at least. Maybe a little scrawny, but wasn't everyone these days? He wondered how kids on their own like that had managed the last few months. He wondered, not for the first time, not for the last, if his kids could have done the same.

                                “Is this everyone?” He asked Lucas. “Have you – ” Frank paused, glancing at the girl and boy. He doubted Lucas had time to inspect much of the hospital at all, and maybe immediately asking if he'd found anything good to loot wasn't the best first impression for Division agents. “Sorry,” he said to them, holstering his gun and extending a gloved hand to shake. “I'm, uh, Frank. You guys doing okay out here?”






Have gun will travel reads the card of a man
A knight without armor in a savage land

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                                      ◣ Hadley ◥


                                      『
                                        Hadley sucked in a sharp breath and all but collapsed against the Hummer. The shots were close, just enough to make panic seize her where it had only been loosely unraveling in her head before. But Hadley and panic had a certain understanding, or so she liked to think. She kept the gun in her grip and re-centered her gaze to where she'd thought the shots were coming from. She knew these guys had better cover than her, maybe better cover than everyone she was with.

                                        If they really were military, she was clinging to the hope that they'd be sensible, and that they wouldn't fire on someone who hadn't started any s**t with them. Then again, they'd already fired on her. Maybe it was just a warning, or maybe they were being sloppy. They didn't sound like they were being entirely reasonable to begin with. If they shot at her anyway, she'd just have to pray it was because they were half-cocked and being sloppy, and that the team would be able to make an opening of it. Until then... she took another deep breath.

                                        "Call me dull, but I can't make sense outta any Goddamn thing you're saying." It was the loudest any of the Division crew had ever heard her, in all likelyhood, but she still wasn't shouting. Per se. Her voice was normally soft and a bit husky, but now it rang out clearly, echoed in the vacant street in a lull in the wind. "You said if you aren't military, you'd have no clue who we are. Which-- s**t, I don't know what that's supposed to tell us except that you do know who we are. And in that case you damn well ought to know we aren't out here to hurt anyone. We've got guns up to cover our own asses. Frankly we'd rather get on with our business-- that's grabbing supplies, and getting anyone we can out of the storm, which is the only curfew I know anything about. So what kind of agreement can we come to here that doesn't leave us lined up like ducks you get to knock off at your leisure?"
                                        』

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                                                                  tab ✖ Michael squinted as she spoke. He tightened his grip on his rifle and slowly backed away from the entrance and to the beginning of the staircase. He stepped inside the doorway that led to the stairwell and crouched covering the entrance on the chance anyone rushed inside. He gritted his teeth and spoke into his headset.

                                                                  tab ✖ "Your move brother."

                                                                  tab ✖ As the transmission registered to Gabriel he rolled his eyes. Michael was one to start s**t and Gabriel always had to finish it. Gabriel trained his crosshairs on the woman speaking and gave her props for being ballsy. Perhaps Michael had just been out thought.

                                                                  tab ✖ "What my colleague is trying to say is that Division is highly classified, those with Tier 1 access would know you even exist. And the chance that you are counter intelligence or a rogue team, like one we came across earlier, we have to be sure. You know our tactics and we know yours. So this is officially declared a stalemate. You have three options, this turns into a bigger ******** and we all use ammunition we could use elsewhere, You pull your ******** men back and we discuss from there, or we just sit here and scream at eachother until a third or fourth unfriendly party arrives and picks the sides."

                                                                  tab ✖ Gabriel licked his lips under his shemaugh and flexed his grip on the rifle. Michael awaited for anything to happen and prayed they were who they said they were. Things would be much simpler if they were and they could probably get this issue solved and on their merry way. Neither brother had major plans to sign up with this band of agents, they didn't like the crowd scene too much. Both brothers had a squad of tight knit men they called brothers but even then it didn't top out over 12. Considering that only one vehicle rolled up anyway, they doubted that there was room for everyone if what Michael figured was more people in the alleyway that spooked the agents in the first place. If all else failed the brothers could tuck tail and run, back to the mall they had taken cover in originally. No doubt somebody else was there now, but it would be easy to dispatch them.


                                                                  ▌ ｌｏｃａｔｉｏｎ : Office Building xxxx▌ ｍｕｓｉｃ : Take the fame - xxxx
                                                                  ▌ ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ : Agents and Alleyway residentsxxxx▌ ｏｏｃ : What to do.

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                                          • xxxxxxxxxxxxwhereabouts convenient store. withwho stranger/Stray Dog. ooc -farting sounds-

                                            “You’re in the wrong store for that, I’m afraid.” Cody responded. She’d only seen a few places even bother carrying such things as citizens weren’t partial to them, prior to the virus that was. When a question was sent her way, she’d only nod to respond initially. Her attention was split between eyeing the windows and the stranger and for a brief moment, she felt a gaze. It vanished as quickly as it arrived in her senses but the initial feeling of it put her on edge.

                                            Once the stranger returned she’d yap the words, “Grand Central Station is perhaps the best place to stay if you need assistance or… in this case shelter,” if someone with such a whispered voice could do so. Instead it might have just seemed like a rushed mumble. It was, perhaps, common knowledge that the location was the base for Division agents and those that needed help. Her disposal of the information, depending on the man’s knowledge, could speak more than the sentence itself. “Also.” She’d add on to perhaps pause the other form exiting the store. “I think there is someone out there watching. I’m not certain but, I felt it for a moment. Did you find a door that might connect to the rest of the building back there?”

                                            No matter if someone imagined it or not, a threat was a threat. Cody would rather waste the time and energy abiding to the omens of paranoia than meander fearlessly. Returning to a crouch behind the shelves, she sighed. This was supposed to be a quick in-and-out of the store but now it had become more than that.


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                                                    BLstoner

                                                    Helbrecht Schwarz

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There was another pause. A certain tenseness cropped up between the two survivors, starting with Nero. Sally sort of just followed suit. He looked warily at the radio, and he adjusted the goggles on his forehead.

"I've been on every floor, sort of... I didn't look too deep into the labs, I thought they wouldn't have as much plain old medicine there. Mom's..." He paused, thinking. He looked like he was drawing a blank or having to reverse engineer the route. "On Worth, somewhere past Columbus Park."

"We're kinda far out from where we used to live," Sally nodded. "It's really nice you're gonna take us wherever you are, but it's a looong walk home. Maybe you should just get whatever you need here and pick us up another time?"

"There's a storm coming, Py. He said that already. Anyway, it shouldn't be a big deal if they've got a vehicle. We still appreciate it."

Sally nodded and looked at her feet, bouncing on her toes. She was definitely getting restless by the time Frank appeared. Nero stepped forward and took the hand offered to them.

"Nero. Nice to meet you. We're doing alright, all things considered. But before we go I do need to grab a-"

"I'll get it!" Sally chirped and bolted towards the stairs, thundering up to the next floor. Nero was already jogging after her.

"Dude, you don't even know which--" He stopped.

Sally let out the sort of shriek that wakes a father in a cold sweat. There were slower, heavier steps down the stairs. Nero backed up, eyes wide, hands curled into fists, looking terrified and angry in equal measures.

"We're not doing this." He hissed. "This s**t is not--"
"Shut up."
Nero shut up.

The man descending the stairs had one hand curled around the Sally's arm, the other pressing a gun to her head. He was a bit tall, broad shouldered, wearing a heavy trench coat with a Kevlar vest under it. His face was blunt, jaw coated in a scruffy beard, and his voice was dull and flat, something with a quality like freshly poured cement.

"Guns on the floor. Both of you. You're going to tell me who else you're with. Nero, finish packing and get the bags down."

Nero looked to the Division agents. His mouth opened, and he shut it helplessly before he started up the stairs. Sally stood in place, shaking, her eyes darting about and falling only occasionally on the two men. The contact was a series of brief little pleas, but eventually she turned her head down again. She started mumbling, whining something, but a slow nudge from the gun silenced her.

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      You can try and take us, but we're the gladiators.
      Everyone a rager, but secretly they're saviors.
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          Damien Seraph - Division Agent

Location:The Streets
Currently: Making a new friend. Maybe.
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"Take your-- Oh, no no." Damien lowered his pistol, easing up his posture and letting a more amicable smile work onto his face. "Got no interest in what's yours. I work with a group that's got shelter, food and--"
"United States Marines! Place your weapons on the ground!" An individual not far off and above was shouting at Damien as well as his partners no doubt. Lots of shouting, lots of working to seem authoritative, lots that didn't add up. Damien was ordered to step out of the alley, a command that Damien obliged by stepping a few steps back, hand on his weapon but still not aiming it. He could hear Summer and Sam making objections and attempting to explain their presence and affiliation. Too little trust, too much tension.
Then the sound of round hitting the hummer hit, and Damien was entirely too aware that things were about to go south. Damien shifted from standing outside to ducking behind a vehicle, keeping his weapon and head low. The Marines clearly didn't want to lose control of the situation, which was also making such things as negotiations incredibly difficult to manage. Textbook jarheads, the both of them.

"I like the option that involves us going about our merry way, and the lot of you deciding not to put rounds in our vehicle." Damien shouted from the not-really-safe cover of whatever aluminum or maybe steel can he had wound up behind. "I get that maintaining control is an important factor, but you gotta work on your bedside manner and your trigger finger. Now I'm gonna come out with my hands up, and if you're interested in negotiation, we can have ourselves a nice and civil chat without pointing rifles at us. I'm sure your buddy is probably not gonna listen and keep his weapon trained on me, but this is me trying to open up a two way street." Damien shifted, this time settling on moving his pistol back into the comfort of its holster. "I'm stepping out with my hands up. Please do not shoot me." With a light grunt, he shifted from standing on a knee to standing, both arms raising as he stepped out of the vehicle's cover and into the street before the building. He gave as good a shrug as he could give in the direction of the building and it's trigger-happy men with his arms up. Negotiations that required a leap of faith were not what Damien was looking forward to today.

"Now, trust exercise time. I'd sincerely appreciate it if I didn't have a rifle aimed at me right about now, and I'm pretty sure we can have a nice, respectful chat without resorting to shooting and swearing at each other. So one of you kindly step out and we can speak like civil folk instead of making it clear to God and everyone that there's a problem goin' on." Damien stood, lightly tapping his foot on the ground while he quietly cursed the cold with all the swears he pleased in the back of his head.

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      Glory and gore go hand in hand, that's why we're making headlines.
      You can try and take us, but victory's contagious.

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Anders


                                          The shouting match had made for a pretty quick change of pace. But it had changed quickly enough at the mention of shelter already. Anders lowered his hands and watched the little exchange, jumping when shots were finally fired. He did, at one point, mouth the word 'curfew?'. The guy who'd held him up made the call to give the Marines (or whoever they actually were) what they wanted, and Anders followed him out, listening while he negotiated.

                                          "Good man. Good man right there." One hand was waved at Damien. "Round of applause, please."

                                          "I think," he added, "we got us a real easy, like a classic misunderstanding here. Now boys, I 'preciate a good rescuin' from certain death as much as the next guy, but I think we had the situation under control before you put your two cents in. An-- and I'd like to say that means something, comin' from me, whose safest option would be to let you ******** all blow each other to bits and not get mixed up in it. I dunno about you all, but I've got stuff to do and places to be before Hell freezes over, and time's a wastin' while you measure your dicks. I don't give a s**t about Marines this or Division that, it's just damn cold out here, y'know?"

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                                                            x


                                                            tab ► The mention of the Division base made the male scowl. "I can't." He spoke, "I know the Division controls that area and I'm certain they wouldn't welcome a deserter. Besides, they have civilians to worry about, not my sorry a**." He knew they were too busy taking in refugees and scavenging to feed all those hungry mouths and to provide necessities along with trying to start again. Yet, Stray wasn't focus on that, he was after the heads of those who had damned them all. He planned on cleaning the city of those who carried the virus first, but after that he was going to find those bastards and put them down. His family, his friends, and so many other lives lost because of them.

                                                            tab ► Yet, he refocused when the other mentioned someone watching, but he honestly wasn't surprised. People were hungry and this was one of the few places who had once carried food. "Yes, but you'll have to move some boxes out of the way." He made his way to the shop doors, keeping close to the wall and peered out to look over the streets. He kept an eye out for any disturbed snow, but didn't see much other this his own and the other's tracks. Of course, his gaze shifted to the buildings, knowing someone could be checking them out from there. Going through the back would be the better idea, but who's to say they were any safer? Either way, he wanted to get out of here. He had to still make a decision about where he wanted to hole up. Although, he'd probably end up at the library.


                                                            ▌ ｃｌｏｔｈｉｎｇ : Day One xxxx▌ ｌｏｃａｔｉｏｎ : Convenient Shop xxxx▌ ｍｕｓｉｃ : Lift Me Up - Radioactive xxxx
                                                            ▌ ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ : Civillian xxxx▌ ｏｏｃ : Omg. My posts are getting worse. T~T I usually do a lot better than this. I'm so sorry.

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location: Beth Israel / stairwell || wearing: whatever keeps the cold out
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Lucas
he's a winner, he's a goddamn sinner
I walk around with my horns out now
but it's not easy to know
______________________

                                                          Lucas waved a hand off to Nero, a silent gesture of 'don't worry about it' after his tense answer about the hospital. He nodded to Frank as he came up, breathing the first sigh of relief he'd had all day. Things could have gone real south while he was here - keeping three people alive was a hell of a lot harder than just watching his own a**. He clapped Frank on the shoulder as he came near, feeling a smile slowly curling his lips. Now they just had to clear out, grab mom, drop the kids off - surely Sam and the others would understand their inability to clear the rest of the hospital.

                                                          He'd sighed a curse as Sally started to run off, taking a few strides forward and beginning to mount the stairs to follow her. He had been constructing a suitable chastisement in his mind when the scream cut off all semblance of thought and he rushed a few more steps up in a frantic, almost lunging gait - and then he stopped completely.

                                                          "I don't think so, cupcake." Contrary to the orders, Lucas's rifle was raised almost immediately, swung into both arms with the sight pointed straight at the man, "You gotta realize that if you shoot her, you'll have about two seconds to think about what a piece of s**t you are before my fully automatic friend here riddles you with holes - 7.62 gonna punch right through that vest. Don't think you want that. And, frankly, I don't want to waste the ammo.

                                                          "So how about this - we barter this out. You hand over the girl, you keep whatever you've dug up in this place, I give you some rations as a bonus and we head our separate ways." He felt his jaw clench, "The alternative? You shoot a kid. You, maybe, shoot me - if by some miracle my gun jams, or the thought of your mangled insides ******** up my head so bad I hesitate. Then the folks I run with find your sorry a** and take turns cutting you up till you're beggin' to die. Sound fun to you?"

                                                          He didn't dare to look to Frank, or to Nero. He didn't take his eyes off the man and the girl.

                                                          ______________________

                                                          you're the reason I cannot forget the season
                                                          or the lesson of how ape shall not kill ape
Gaia Forums » GAIA Community » Barton Town (Role Play)

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