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 Posted: Tue Jul 07, 2009 7:07 pm
((I've got just enough time to post here.))
Sirius remained unconscious.
Jack quickly began setting up the necessary to keep Sirius stable. As he was setting up any equipment he could find, he turned to the others. "Half of you, preferably any who can fight, set up some sort of defense for us and be ready, the other half should look for supplies and help me with this guy."
He went back to inspecting Sirius.
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Posted: Tue Jul 07, 2009 7:09 pm
Emily took it, checked in a careful way that suggested that she knew how it worked-- at least in theory-- and gave Osiris a nod, along with a subdued but obviously grateful smile.
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Posted: Tue Jul 07, 2009 7:14 pm
((No no, they're on the top floor and we're on the bottom. Zombies in between.))
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Posted: Tue Jul 07, 2009 7:16 pm
((Edited. Sorry; I don't know how I missed that.))
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Posted: Tue Jul 07, 2009 7:25 pm
((No worries, my dear.))
Osiris stopped the team at the door, then proceeded slowly - and alone - into the lobby, scanning all around him as he went.
The zombies had mostly moved on, headed upstairs, and those that remained were too busy snuffling around to notice the lone soldier. He slowly backed out and gestured for the team to follow.
He led them slowly, as silently as possible, through the lobby and onto the stairs. So far, so good.
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Posted: Tue Jul 07, 2009 8:20 pm
Grigori followed quickly. Despite his age, he was still quite agile and kept pace with the trained men easily enough. Once at the hospital, he took a moment to survey it with a quick glance then looked at Drusilla. When she wasn't lecturing, he quite enjoyed her company he realized and she was very easy on the eyes. He took a deep breath before entering the hospital after Osiris. You could hear the undead shuffling around, whining inconsolably for more flesh and blood. "You'd think someone would come up with a better biological weapon than moaning, decrepit, dead folk," he whispered to himself.
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2009 7:58 am
Alaric stood at the back of the group just entering the hospital, Damn it, I really wish I could shoot better. He trusted his arms and legs, but as he had seen many times before, range is what wins the fight so many times. He looked at the guns and realized that most of them were not silenced, Oh s**t, I really hope no one shoots... He didn't trust talking at the moment, they were quite literally walking into a hive that had not yet become aware of their presence.
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2009 12:24 pm
The Church Team made it to the landing of the second floor before Osiris called a halt.
All across the floor in front of them, zombies were snuffling around. A few Lickers were poking their heads in and out of rooms, looking for any remaining food. There was no way to get across without shooting.
As the final ZDF soldier looked behind them, it also appeared that the zombies on the lower floor had blocked their exit. They didn't appear to have much time before one of the two groups noticed them.
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2009 5:17 pm
"Son of a..." He sighed and made his way quietly to Osiris's side. "Please tell me you've got a plan of action," he whispered. "And if you so much as think of going that way," Murdock pointed in the direction he had seen all the lickers slithering about, "I'm going to tell you right now you are *@%&ing crazy. Are we understood?"
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2009 11:33 pm
Drusilla could have shot him then and there. Did he fail to notice when someone wanted you to be quiet?! Noise was the worst thing in the world you could make when dealing with anything that wanted to kill you. She gripped her gun tighter now and glared at him, holding the scream inside for later. Because even if she died, she was going to haunt his a** if those lickers noticed them.
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Posted: Thu Jul 09, 2009 1:11 pm
Osiris smirked at Murdock. "So you would rather turn your back on them, then cause a bunch of noise that will undoubtedly draw them in from behind? Is that what I'm hearing? All right then, your call."
He gestured to his men, and they laughed silently as they pretended to turn around.
"We charge them and hit them before they notice us," Osiris said. "If we can kill the Lickers, we can break through. You with us or not?" He readied his magnum.
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Posted: Thu Jul 09, 2009 2:26 pm
Patrick Macfarland sighed as he sipped on yet another mug of warm beer taken from the cellar of the abandoned bar. He had been holed up here ever since the initial outbreak of the virus. "Last Chance Bar & Grille", it was ironic that this would not only be the former criminal's continuing refuge, but likely also to eventually become his tomb.
He gazed upwards towards the television with its blank screen, it had been months since he had heard another human voice, or seen a show on TV. With a sudden burst of anger and frustration, the Irishman chucked the glass into the device, shattering the glass against its plastic covering, having no effect. He sighed deeply again, looking towards the shotgun that the old man had left behind, something he used to break up bar fights when things got too wild.
Winchester, an old friend of Patrick's, allowed the him to remain here whenever the heat was too much to deal with on his bounty. It was unfortunate, he knew, that Winchester and all his friends and family were long gone, or worse.
He contemplated that he might be the last man alive. He thought of suicide as he gazed upon the Benelli shotgun. After hearing that distant explosion and gunfire earlier, he dismissed both thoughts.
"I've spent all my bleedin' life chasin' money an' loose women.... Now both are useless and gone," he spoke to nobody, he merely needed sound to break the monotony and silence,"I could go out an' look for others... but what's the point, leavin' here just means that I can't come back. The damned zombies'll claim this place as soon as they find out someone was even here."
He walked over to his motorcycle with a wrench in his hands. Tuning up and keeping the vehicle in top condition was essentially the only thing that kept him sane day in and day out.
"Mary," he said as he lovingly caressed the metal two-wheeled beast,"what are we gonna do? We've been sittin' here forever an' I think ye're startin' to rust. Oh, stop, I was just kidding, don't go gettin' yer feelings hurt."
Just then, he heard a loud crash against the door, then another. Patrick looked up from his work, gazing at the boarded up portal with both anxiety and anticipation. The door shook again. They were coming.
"Well Mary, looks like we've got a choice, love. We can either sit here and hide again, an' be torn apart an' be done with this nightmare. OR! We can give these hell-spawned bastards a nightmare o' their own before we go!"
He turned the ignition and let it run for a moment.
"That's what I thought! Hang on lass! Let me get mah goods!"
With the engine running now, the shaking of the door was becoming more violent, boards were beginning to come loose and fall. Patrick moved like a flash, gathering some food and stuffing it into his pack, then reaching behind the bar and discovering seven packs of shells for the beautiful Benelli shotgun.
"Oh, God bless yer damned salty soul, Winchester."
He quickly stashed the bullet cases within his leather jacket, preparing to take off. He almost got onto his bike when he had a sudden realization, making a complete 180ยบ spin back towards the bar.
"Almost forgot! Warm beer's better than no beer, aye?"
Throwing a six-pack of ale into his knapsack, he then jumped onto his motorcycle then revved the handles once, letting out a small spray of smoke.
The doors were beginning to fall apart and crack at the hinges.
Holding his shotgun in one hand and the bike handle in the other, he revved the cycle once again, roaring loudly.
"Alright Mary, it's time we stop hiding and take matters into our own 'ands, aye? Let's see if we can't find the blokes that were fightin' earlier."
With one final rev of the engine, the former Irish crook yelled out loud,
"Come an' get me, ya rottin' bastards!"
With a roar, he took off towards the door, lifting the motorcycle's front end upwards with one arm on the handle, then slamming through the wooden door, crushing the first few beasts that were too close.
He wasn't even half way free yet and one zombie grasped onto the tail end of the bike, attempting to climb onto it.
"No hitchhikers, mate, sorry."
With one fluid motion, Patrick spun his arm and fired the shotgun, obliterating the skull of the clinging monster. Though several others pursued, none could keep up with the speed of the vehicle.
Patrick drove onwards, towards the plaza where he had heard the gunfire from earlier, holstering his Benelli Nova Tactical shotgun across his back and pulling a warm drink from his knapsack with a grin.
(('lo all eek ))
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Posted: Thu Jul 09, 2009 7:40 pm
Alaric slid the tonfa in his right hand into a loop on his backpack, then pulled out a short thick club, then half turned to watch behind the group, He planed on using the tonfa in his left hand to defend and the club to attack, but only to keep anything from getting at the group from behind, He doubted he would be of much use against the lickers.
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Posted: Thu Jul 09, 2009 9:05 pm
The plaza was not too terribly far from the old tavern. He arrived in the deserted area on his motorcycle and surveyed the devastation. He kept the engine as quiet as possible. Numerous dead bodies lay scattered throughout the area, many were clearly rotted, betraying the fact that they were not humans for quite some time. The wrecked vehicles that were still smoldering did give him some hope.
Patrick did catch sight of some corpses that were near the blast zone and these poor fellows had been feasted upon prior to the explosion. Their charred flesh and what little remained of their torn clothing told the man that these were definitely living, breathing souls fighting the undead.
He gazed upon one of the decapitated soldiers and pulled the gun from his grasp. "Doubt you'll be needing this, mate."
It was a SIG SSG Commando machine gun. Not bad, not the highest dollar stuff, but something he had seen in his life of crime. Judging by the electronic display screen on the side of the weapon, it showed only half of its 30 rounds were still within its chamber. Patrick rolled his eyes and began searching the body more thoroughly then pulled out a small box containing three more catridges. He shrugged, "Guess ye didn't go down without a fight, eh? I'll have ta save this for a special occasion. Don't wanna burn through such a nice gift too fast."
He holstered the rifle on his back, in an X with the Benelli, then placed the bullets within the folds of his jacket.
"Well, lads," he spoke to the fallen men, placing his empty beer bottle in its lifeless hand," thank ya for yer time. I'll be goin' now."
Glaring at the scorched earth, he could see the imprint in the ash and dirt of the wheels belonging to another vehicle of the same size.
"Maybe it's possible one o' the blokes got away... worth a shot, eh Mary?"
With a slight rev on the handles of the bike, he took off in the directions that the tracks so informatively provided.
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Posted: Thu Jul 09, 2009 9:23 pm
Grigori really hated life right about then, and gave a heavy sigh. "Just give the count, I'll be watching the stairs," he whispered and made his way to the back. He was going to do just as he had said and make sure nothing made it up the stairwell to surprise them. "No way we'll all make it through this s**t," he muttered to himself as he shouldered past the other civilians and kneeled at the top of the stairs, taking aim.
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