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Becca gave a nod, then added, "As long as we don't make too much of a ruckus, They might completely forget that we even exist." When Jamie came up to her, unbalanced and zoned out as hell while dragging a shovel, she was once again a bit intimidated. Not that she could really help it, for there is almost nothing more nerve-wracking for a freshman than to have to be in the same room as a bunch of juniors and seniors. Despite the woman's odd requests, Becca did as Jamie asked and began to quietly search the garage shelves & drawers for spare batteries and wires. Although, she highly doubted that she'd find any gasoline; most buses run on diesel fuel, don't they?

Surprisingly, her search for supplies dug up not only car batteries and wires, but other neat finds as well. Some of the unearthed treasures were: an old transistor radio, a box of rusted yet very sharp scrap metal, and - the crowning jewel - a Gameboy with Pokemon Blue version that had been tucked away under some papers in a drawer. Jackpot. If the batteries in it were still good, they were going to be very close friends indeed. Quickly, Becca pocketed the game when Allen called out for someone to grab the other bus' emergency kit. She left the box of ransacking goodies out for the others to go through while she went on the other bus for more loot.

*Groan* Reanimation in progress

Corey couldn't help but watch Jamie's search for whatever in the bag. but the pills she were dragging out were of no use to them, not if they didn't know what they treated. But well, Jamie had found a use for some of them and quickly wandered off in some sort of, well was it stoned? Drugged? Who knew, it was something close to that. Corey was no stranger to drugs, but personally he only liked to get to know the ones that he could grow himself.
when Jamie returned mumbling something about batteries and wires and dumping tools all over the place he thought that she's maybe taken more than she needed. But she DID find some nice finds, a pipe wrench, a big pipe wrench actually, and various other blunt but harmful objects.
"Whats up man?" He said back over to Lorne at the mention of Jamie before walking towards the bus. He stopped by Becca on the way though before she began to 'forage for usefulness on the other bus, handing her the wrench.
"Here... Ten times better than that trowel you have, and it's reach is longer too. Don't worry you'll be fine with us. I'll make sure of that." Corey smiled and jogged onto the other bus with Lorne and spying Jamie's legs hanging into the aisle thought he'd better do something at least.
"Ah... I'll deal with her." Corey said, almost caring, but it was probably more sympathy.
He only needed one look, Jamie was out her face, she probably didn't even think she was too bad but Corey could see it. Her pupils were all over the place, and her face had went 'slack' from the relaxant.
"Well, you cocked that up didn't you... You know with Asthma, you can stop an attack with controlled breathing. And in this situation pills weren't the best idea, 'specially if you're not sure what they are. But, it's done so we'll deal with it. Water'll do it" He said lifting the bags away from her and grabbing some water from his bag and pouring it into Jamies mouth. It was all he had left but it shouldn't be hard to stop somewhere and grab some bottles on their way. Her bags he had moved for room were full of tools, far too many than we needed. In fact we probably didn't even need the tools, anything we could fix by the road side could be fixed with the tools installed on the bus, these were all specialist... Ish.
"A spirit level?" He said taking an example useless tool out and dropping it through an open window.

Allen Spencer


Jamie’s outburst had been startling to say the least but she settled down. Allen could barely decipher her drug induces ramblings, but what he could understand pointed out a very harsh reality; they could all die at any moment. They were relatively safe for now behind the brick and mortar walls of the garage, but how long would that last? How long before this little sanctuary of theirs became their tomb? What was the police doing? It had been hours since this all began and he had heard the occasional siren speed by but why weren’t they helping? Shouldn’t they call in the National Guard for something like this? What was happening outside the school walls? Was it this bad out there? Was his mother ok? What about his little sister? He could imagine it all, the home he grew up home completely unrecognizable, the furniture strewn against the doors and windows, his mother and sister cowering in a darkly lit corner. Or worse….

He shook his head in order to clear his thoughts. What he needed to do was make sure the bus was working so that they could all get out quickly. Looking down he realized his hands where tightly gripping the gasoline bucket. This was his fourth or fifth trip siphoning the remaining gas from the other buses. As far as he could tell they were topped off and had a good 40 gallons, neatly stacked in the side of the bus, in reserve in case of an emergency.

Everyone else was doing something to help out, a few were gathering would be weapons and others were packing things into the bus. Thinking he was bring clever he grabbed some rags from in the busses and some beer and coke bottles littered in the garage and attempted to make some Molotov Cocktails just like in the movies. First he poured the gas into one of the beer bottles, then, he corked it up with an oily rag he had drenched in a little gasoline. It was fairly simple but without that many supplies he was only able to make four Molotovs. The fumes from the fuel where dizzying and reminded him of when he was a kid and use to hang out with his friends in front of gas station in order to get that mini high from huffing to many fumes. A decrepit smile crept on his face, those day where long gone. Most of his friends had either turned or been eaten up by them.

Although they were all preparing for it, they had to leave and fast. The fire alarm had fianlly died, possibly a countermeasure in case it went off when no one was around or someone was still alive inside to turn it off. With one less distraction they amassed outside, clawing and moaning at their prey tucked away inside their brick and mortat fort. Their moans slowly attracting more and more of them.....

Before Becca could step foot onto the second bus however, Corey came over and handed her what he called a wrench, but it looked more like something from Paul Bunyan's toolbox. It was practically as long as her arm for Pete's sake! Even with both hands, the weight of the pipe was enough to pull her down in an almost comical fashion. He was right in the fact that it would be more effective, but a tool is only as good as the person wielding it. Still, she couldn't consider herself much of a future scientist if she didn't at least give this serious blunt force trauma inducer a try. She adjusted her hand placement on the handle for better leverage, and after a few attempts, found a position in which she could hold the pipe's heavier end about a foot off the ground without needing to put it down five seconds later. Using the newfound weapon was going to be a difficult task though. If she wasn't careful, she could probably dislocate one of her shoulders while swinging it around.

The sound of the door's protest would've caused any person to stiffen in dread. For Becca, it felt as if her heart had jumped up her throat and her stomach had fallen into her shoes. She wanted to smack herself for not accounting for Their collective strength and persistence. Despite being slowed down by the pipe wrench, she made her way as quick as she could onto their designated escape vehicle. But as she took the seat across from the mostly incapacitated Jamie, she looked out the windshield at their exit route. "Unless we can get that garage door opened, does anyone know if a minibus can gain enough velocity in less than twenty or thirty feet for the force of its mass to be enough to break it down?" She asked aloud, glancing over at the weakened door repeatedly.

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