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Attention all potential survivors in the D.C. Area, the remaining members of the White House have unanimously agreed that the situation in the city is no longer salvageable and plan to unleash a nuclear weapon on the city within 2 days. If you have any means of evacuating the area, do so now and God be with us all. Repeat...

So, that's it then. The government has given up and their last resort is to demolish the city in which you are currently residing.You aren't sure what to do but you know you can't stay here any longer. You need to gather supplies and you need to do it fast. You and four other survivors seem to have the same idea... You notice that there is an undamaged station wagon parked nearby and it would be the most ideal method of getting multiple people and supplies out of the city intact...

You may now speak with one another, and you MUST divvy up the time you have to gather as much supplies as possible. You only have 2 hours to make sure you are out of the danger zone in time. That means each person must state what they are going to work on before they leave: assign 2 hours to each party member in your post.

SUPPLY CHART:

Units per HOUR -


Food: 150 units
Fuel: 2 cans
Money: 50 dollars
Ammo: 50 bullets
Medkit: 5 kits
Battery: 1
Tire: 1
Muffler: 1

Ambrose pulled his hair out of his ponytail, ran his fingers through it, and tied it back up. Probably for the tenth time in the past hour. "If we're really going to risk travel..." He muses quietly. "I know a place, not too far from here. A small storage house where the hospital keeps some of its spare equipment." He starts to stretch and warm up his legs, expecting a need to run. "I know they have plenty of medical equipment; I'm not much of a doctor without it. But I think they may also store excess hospital food there. Not exactly tasty, but nutritious..." He keeps switching rapidly between looking at his fellow survivors and just talking at the ground anxiously, rather rambling on.

The stress has been getting to him; his face is pale and dark bags have fallen under his eyes. But he's still together, and ready to do his part. A small, twisted part of him hopes someone gets hurt. Just a little. It is always so easy to relax and let everything else slip away when he's working on a patient... "I... could make a run out?" He nods slowly. "We won't get far without supplies."

Ambrose spends 1 hour looking for Food.
Ambrose spends 1 hour looking for Medkits.

It had already been a long day and the day had just started. Father Malone found himself unsurprised by the news of the impending nuclear strike and more interestingly unconcerned. He couldn't help but think of the fire and brimstone rained down upon Sodom and Gomorrah. The only thing that really gave him pause was watching the faces of the people he'd found himself in the company of. They were honest working folk, not politicians at least. Ten righteous men. Mat wasn't sure he could have found ten truly righteous men but at least ten that didn't deserve to die. Like the angels unto Lot the scratchy announcement over the radio was a small mercy, a gift of time for those few good people left to save themselves.

Now they just had to manage it. Looking over the group that might be easier said than done. At least they had a doctor and the mechanic would be a boon. The rest though, himself included, Mat wasn't certain would be anything more than dead weight. At least they weren't panicking. Mat was honestly surprised he hadn't panicked yet. He'd been known to hyperventilate over a missed flight. That the end of the world hadn't made him at least faint was an odd quirk of faith, or possibly shock. He certainly was feeling a bit numb. Might want talk to the doctor about that eventually.

More important things now though. The priest set his coffee down with a nod and stepped up from the corner where he'd been half hiding as the others prepared to separate for scavenging. He wasn't fond of the idea of breaking up the group at all but knew it was necessary to collect supplies. Still he wasn't about to let the doctor go out there alone.

"I would like to accompany you, Doctor. If that suits you. I do not think anyone should go out there alone." He paused to give a wary glance to the door before looking back at the others. "Do we have any way of communicating? I haven't a cell phone but perhaps some of you do? If the service even still functions." He glanced to the others, the girls in particular. Then looked back to the doctor. "If not there may be radios in the hospital. They could be useful if we must separate again" he half shrugged "At the least I can carry food and medicines."

Mat spends 1 hour looking for food
Mat spends 1 hour looking for med kits (or radios if allowed)

Ambrose brings a hefty bit of pipe from the garage when he goes out with the priest. "These things don't behave much like the movies..." He mumbles as they make their way down the street. They are quiet and slow, and don't seem to pay much attention to the men. Even so, Ambrose is careful to move quietly, give them wide berths, and keep his pipe at the ready.

When they arrive at the storehouse, a sigh of relief escapes the doctor. "Looks like we aren't the first here. But they left a lot for us." He starts putting food packs into the backpack the young girl was kind enough to lend them, checking each seal meticulously to make sure the food inside is unspoiled. Once he and the father have gathered a sufficient amount of food, he walks over to the medicine cabinets and pulls out a large medical bag.

He prioritizes gauze and immuno-boosters, as they're most likely to be what the group will need. But he makes certain to also grab a couple of splints for broken bones and some stitch-threading, scalpels, and sanitation solution in case something more serious comes up. He tries to give the father a smile, but he's not really good at making eye contact, so it's kind of off to the side. "Let's get back and get this stuff put in the car, yeah?"

He gives the backpack to the priest, carries the medical bag himself, and picks back up his pipe. Now just for the walk back...

It was more than slightly unnerving to see the shambling remains of what had not all that long ago been neighbors or at least people, geographic proximity didn't much matter in the priest's eyes. It was a slight relief that they weren't actively attacking. Matt wasn't overly fond of the horror genre but he knew enough about the Hollywood concept of zombies to know they were supposed to be rather ravenous. Whatever the reality Matt was fairly certain they were not good and couldn't help but go over the scriptures for any indication of what was going on. He'd never given much thought on the prophecy of Apocalypse but was fairly certain zombies didn't really figure in, not like this at least. He gave Ambrose a nervous nod for his observations as they walked to the hospital but wasn't really much more social than the doctor and didn't want to make noise in the midst of the zombies, least that catch their attention and make them considerably less tame.

Once to the hospital Matt kept an eye out for supplies that might be useful but didn't really find anything worth carrying so stuck with helping Ambrose pack up food and emergency medical supplies. Luckily it wasn't terribly difficult to find bags in the hospital so they had plenty to carry supplies in. He was certain to get a decent amount of painkiller and antihistamine along with a few burn kits and as much antibiotics, bandages, and sterilizer as he could carry. He also threw in several rolls of bathroom tissue because that's an important luxury with many good uses.

When the doctor gave him a sideways smile Matt returned it with a nervous one of his own and nodded at the instructions. He didn't mind carrying most of the bags as he knew good and well he'd be useless with that pipe and felt better letting the doctor have more of his hands free to swing it just in case the zombies outside started to get rowdy. Still Matt was not happy to be walking back into sight of those abominations but there was nothing for it so he just crossed himself at the door with a quiet prayer before stepping out to head back toward the garage.

Liona gave a nod at Micheal's instruction and organized what they had gathered in a neat and tidy order, and welcoming the others' hands whenever it was offered.

Micheal's question made her blink. Her job and her normal life, it seemed so far away, even if it had only been no more than a few hours ago. "Theatre productions," she answered matter-of-factly, before returning to her task. Clueless of where better to place her contributions, she placed the muffler in the trunk and helped Polly heft the two tires they had gathered in the same place as well. For Liona, the labour was still considered light work, yet a little more comparable to her day-to-day activities at the theatre. "It's where the back stage things that makes the drama and your sparkling lights and fake rain happen. I guess it's kinda like your behind-the-scenes tinkering of the cars that you must do often, huh hotshot?" She knew the mechanic's name, but she enjoyed her nickname for him far too much to let it go just like that.

Liona leaned against a workbench and took a long, deep sigh. "You out of school yet?" she asked, looking at Polly. "You look like a smart kid. What classes do you take?"

She wasn't sure whether she would hear the answer to the question, for it was then that the others arrived. They didn't have the lumbering gait of the dead, so it was easy to identify them from afar. Her eyes went to the station wagon. Without pausing to ask, Liona climbed into the seat behind the wheel, saving everyone the time deliberating. She was never a big fan of public transit; it was often less cumbersome to transport props by car or, more often, by van. Needless to say, the woman felt right at home where she was sitting. "Hop in guys, we're going on a road trip. I can take us anywhere but over water, so what do you say we head west?"

The walk back to the garage was less than pleasant. The zombies were slowly getting restless but they made it safely enough. Still the priest kept a wary eye on the shambling crowds as the others packed up the car. It was a habit of Matt's to stand in the background and observe. He found it was the best way to truly get to know a person, by observing them when they don't know they're being watched. But now he wasn't watching people. The priest struggled with what to consider them. Matt had difficulty believing a plague of this caliber could be anything but God's work but was it Devine wrath or testing the faithful?

And then Father Malone saw something which made that question very important. The others were busy with the car but Matt had been watching outside so he saw the young father struggling to protect his little girl from the zombies that were closing in.

"Ummm. . ." Matt made a slightly trembling sound to get the other's attention as he stepped back from the door he'd been watching through. "There's someone out there." He told the others, "With a child." He was sure to get across that important fact. Had it just been the man Matt would have stepped back and let someone else handle it from there. Had he not been in shock still he, well probably wouldn't be functional. But it seems loosing everything gave the priest courage, or at least disregard for his own safety. Still, he couldn't believe what he was doing as he gave the garage a quick look over for anything flammable, which in a garage there was no shortage.

A bucket of used motor oil near the door sufficed and with an almost confused look the priest crossed himself again, said another little prayer, then picked up the bucket, grabbed a mop on the way out, dunked it in the oil, and went to hurl the oil on the zombies blocking the way to the garage. Then it would be just a quick flip of the mop, a click of his lighter (first time he was actually lucky to be a smoker) and he'd have a rather long handled torch to swing at extra flammable zombies. Assuming nothing went wrong along the way. Matt tried not to let himself think of all the very many ways that plan could go horribly wrong. At least he knew they had burn kits on hand and as dangerous as the fire was to himself he didn't need to know zombies at all to know it was equally effective against them. That was the theory at least. Fire kills everything, right?

It was the only way he could think to get more than one down at a time. There were too many of them to hope to save even the girl let alone her father by taking them out one by one. This way he might actually be able to save them both though the girl was priority and his newfound courage wasn't likely to hold out long for saving the man once the girl was clear.

Ambrose finishes packing the food into the trunk neatly and reaches over his shoulder, asking, "The medical bag, Father?" He turns when there is no response to see the priest rushing outside. With fire. "s**t!" He grabs the medical bag and presses it in quickly, slamming the trunk shut. "We have company!" He yells as warning to the others, then runs after the priest. He's much too late to help, and the cries of the dying man outside ping against his already-bruised psyche. But he doesn't have time for that now.

He leads the priest back into the garage and helps get the screaming child into the back seat of the car, pushing himself into the seat next to her. "Girl, I know you're upset right now but if you could do us all a little favor and SHUT UP!" He screams back into her face, shocking her into momentary silence. "Get everyone in and let's get gone." He pleads. "I don't know how many are out there, but they're aggressive and on fire!" He fastens the girl's seat belt hastily, then starts fumbling with his own. His hands are shaking so badly...