NationStates Jolt Archive

The OOC for this thread is here (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=574558)

“Well Gunny, how’s it going?” Ted Huenel, owner of Zinium Unlimited asked Gunny McGee, the operator of the local Zinium power supply station in Merue.

“It’s going pretty well. We currently supply power to the entire city and are making killer profits. This stuff is better than nuclear!” Gunny said. They were doing an inspection of the power plant as they were talking and Ted Heunel saw something that chilled him to the bone. “Gunn…Gunny! What’s that?” He asked, pointing to an overturned barrel that was leaking green fluid and forming a pool.

Gunny looked over. “Oh, that’s just a fallen barrel, Mr. Heunel. Its fine. We can just go clean that little thing up.” Gunny said and called to a nearby janitor. The janitor went over to the spill and righted the barrel. He picked up a mob and then began trying to clean up the mess only as he touches his mop to the fluid, it slowly started to disintegrate. The janitor was puzzled and looked over at Gunny. Gunny looked at Ted. Ted went white with fear.

“What have you DONE?!” He screamed. He rushed over to the mess and picked up a sheet of scrap metal to slosh the mess away from the pool. When he got to the bottom he saw what he had suspected. A hole in the floor. “Gunny, what’s below here?” He asked, dreading the answer.

Gunny came over and thought. “I believe the sewer sir.” He said. Ted fainted on the spot and was rushed to the infirmary, the remaining pool left unattended as it drained back through the hole and down into the dark.


It began in a small suburb of the city. A few people were stricken with seizures as they drank a glass of water or took a shower. The hospitals began filling up and then the new invalids had to be sent to the big city hospitals. Nobody was ready for what came next. The patients began attacking and eating the nurses and doctors. Those that could escaped with minor bite wounds and ran from the building, only to be stricken themselves. They then began transferring it to others. Soon the news stations broadcast the news and the government appeared. They sent in special teams to fight, but many were over run and the government was forced to quarantine the city. If anybody came near the edge of town they were shot on sight and they soon learned to avoid that area. People became prisoners in their own homes as the undead assaulted their houses and sometimes broke through looking for more food. This is where we pick up.


OOC: Post your character info, a bio if u want one, what sort of weaponry they have and where they are. As for the zombies, this is how they work (ofcourse. ur character doesn't know this right off the bat. lol):

• Transfer plague through bite only
• Can take multiple hits, body parts falling off, and live.
• Only thing that really keeps them down is head or heart shot or no legs. No legs mean they can still bite.
• Weak but in large numbers can break down a door just through shear pounding
• Can “bleed” to death but only because they end up with nothing inside them to hold them up. Don’t scab


all right. get started :D lol.

Tag for post.

Charecter info:
Name: Felix Comuncu
Job: Reporter
Weapons: None uses improvised weapons.
Picture: http://i.cnn.net/cnn/2003/WORLD/meast/12/08/cnna.ware/story.ware.jpg
Description: A Chernoblian news reporter stationed in Mt Id. Knows the language and customs, has a camera, pack of smokes, a passport and a lighter.
Training: Like all Chernoblians, has done military time. Can hold his own in a fight and is a hand to hand combat expert.

Felix stood outside the hotel taking pictures. People on the ground having siezures, people vomiting, paramedics running through the streets. "Damn." he said to himself. He walked back through the gates of the hotel and to his room. He reached fro his backpack, smokes, lighter and cell. He walked to his mini fridge and grabbed a dozen bottles of water. He also had some energy bars and a bag of trail mix that he packed as well.

Suddenly he heard something slam his door. He walked over. "Hold on." He thought. He walked to his duffel bag and snagged his old Mk.1 combat knife he kept from his Army days. He opened the door. He looked into the hall. Empty. The walls were covered in blood. His door had bloody hand prints covering its knob. "What the hell." he said to himself. He walked down the hall. He saw an emergency fire ax in a case on the wall. He broke the glass and grabbed it.

OCC: can i be a zombie?

(Sure, but I don't think you'll want to be a generic zombie. I was thinking about creating some boss zombies so if you want I can make you one of those. Just make up one and i'll tell you if its legal. lol.)

(I believe Angenteria will be one. Now lets stop cluttering up the IC thread. lol. Save it for OOC)

OCC: Can the other zombies run?
Charecter info:
Name: Kash Wilson
Job: Infected Human
Weapons: AK-103
Picture: Pale skin, ice blue eyes, dirty-blonde hair, muscular
Description: Former Calaverian soldier who was bitten and infected by the zombie horde. He won't turn all the way though, leaving him just on the edge, keeping his intelligence. He can run extremely fast as well. Kash can also rally groups of zombies like a general.
Training: North Calaverian Military

(Allright, that works. You'll be the mastermind behind the zombie horde. And some zombies can. I'll post more in the OOC)

((Can the zombies be less active during the day? I'm trying for a 28 day later begining scene.))

So there he was. Sitting in his room. Door locked, windows shut and curtained, with three weapons. His new axe, his old Mk.1 and a lighter with a bottle of axe. Great. He thought.
He walked to the window. He needed to know what was going on. He peeked beetween the curtains. He almost puked. The street was COMPLETELY empty. Not a soul.

He needed food. energy bars and trail mix would only last so long. He needed to get to the hotel kitchen. From the blood he saw earlier he knew there would be some messed up stuff ahead. He opened the door slowly and peeked into the hall. Nothing. he picked up his ax and home made flamethrower and headed out. He searched the adjacent rooms looking for salvageables. In one room he found at least 12 cans of hairspray. "People here must care about hair." He thought. In the next room he found a few packs of Ramen noodles and a bag of chips. The rest of the rooms were mainly empty.

He opened the door to the stairs and began the climb down. The hotel was eerily empty. He reached the first floor quikly and waited at the door. He got on his hands and knees and peered through the crack. No moving shadows, now eyeball looking back, just, nothing.

He opened the door and peered in. The room held a pepsi machine, and the contenental breakfast room. He walked out. Ax ready he searched. Not a soul. He found the coffee machines and the sugar. He stuffed his backpack with sugar to provide quick energy if needed. He aslo found some "5 Hour" energy shots behind the counter. He then went to the laundry room and grabbed the thickest clothes he could. A sweater, a hoodie and a thick jacket. That should protect, atleast minorly, from bites and sharp objects.

He Salvaged some candy bars and canned soups from the staff lunchroom and left the hotel. The city was empty. Not a soul roamed the streets. He began to walk. His first priority was to find a decent weapon. He was glad he grabbed the multiple clothing layers because it was rather chilly. He could also do with some company. He reached down to a pamplet on the ground with a map of the district he was in. A few blocks away there was a gun store. ((Assuming guns are legal)) "Perfect." He whispered. He walked in that direction.

((Can I get someone to meet?))

He continued. By the time he reached the gun shop the sun was turning orange. He pulled out his phone. 4:30. "Shit." He said. He saw that the shop was dark and quiet. He opened the door. "Hello! Anybody around?" nothing. He saw a rack holding several rifles. two of them caught his eye. A Remington 700 sniper rifle and a Semi-automatic G3KA4 assault rifle. He picked them both up. He walked to the front desk and took a key to the case. He undid the trigger locks on his rifle and opened the glass case. He pulled out a silver slide, high quality HK 45. USP. He grabbed spare mags and boxes of ammo for all of the rifles. He loaded a few of the mags but glanced at the time. 5:00. It was getting dark. He needed to get to the hotel.

He loaded all of his guns and readied the G3. He walked out of the door. The sky was orange and inhuman screams could be heard in the distance. "FUCK. What the hell!" He started booking back to the hotel. Watching every corner with his G3. The sun kept falling in the sky. He sped up. He was sprinting. The hotel was in view. Suddenly several fast, crazed human shapes came around the corner behind him. His lungs ached. He kept running. He slung his G3 on his back and pulled out his USP. He emptied the clip behind him. The things kept coming. "Oh my god. WHAT THe FUCK are these things?"

He busted into the hotel and shut and barred the doors. He stacked several heavy objects like tables and chairs and baggage carts in front of the door. He ran to the stairs and up to his room. He locked and barred that door too. He had been in a war but this was fucked up.

Character Info
Name: Regina Brooks
Picture (http://i162.photobucket.com/albums/t280/left4dead411/wallpapers/art-zoey-600.jpg)
Weapons: Anything
Occupation: Nurse
Short Bio: Regina is an Angenterian who has recently moved here after graduating with a nursing degree from the Imperial University for Medical Science. Since then, she has taken up a position in the local hospital. Her interaction with patients have given her basic understanding of language and custom, and her position requires basic medical training.
Training: She has served in the Angenterian Imperial Navy for one tour of duty back home, so has skill in basic firearms. She has the ability to treat basic wounds, and can do so if necessary.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Earlier that day

"Well, what do you think? There are only two answers..."

Regina laughed as she walked through the hallway of the local hospital. It's not like it was a hard question or anything, but her wallet depended on it.

"Uhh, that one." Regina pointed to the right hand.

"Wrong-o, Brooksy!" Dr. Manheim replied, opening the selected hand, revealing an empty palm. He opened his other hand, revealing a crumpled up tin-foil ball, probably the remains of whatever held his breakfast that morning. "Guess you're paying for drinks tonight."

"I'll get you one of these days." She smiled. If only he knew her plan to accidentally forget to bring enough money with her, he wouldn't be smiling like that. "I'll bet you-"

"MOVE IT! OUT OF THE WAY!" A para-medic shouted, waving people aside as another para-medic pushed a wheeled stretcher carrying a male patient. The patient's clothes were torn, and blood was seeping out of his arm, where a piece of flesh was seemingly missing. He was convulsing violently, and the two para-medics had to strap him into his stretcher to keep him from falling off.

"Holy crap!" Dr. Manheim shouted, running over to the stretcher, Brooks in tow. "What happened?"

"He was bitten!" The other para-medic replied, glancing up to the pair. "Some sort of bar fight, by the looks of it!"

"Bite victims don't go into convulsions!" Brooks said, chasing after the stretcher.

"Well, apparently they do..."

They wheeled the patient into an ICU, where the two medical personnel tried to what they could. It was no use.

"He's flat-lining!"

"Get the defibrillator!"

"Alright, 3-2-1...CLEAR!"

A good few hundred volts of electricity shot through the victim's body.

"Again... 3-2-1... CLEAR!"

Another shock. It wasn't working.

"3-2-1...CLEAR!"

Again, nothing. The patient was no longer shaking like in a seizure, and the tone of flat-lining hummed in the air.

Dr. Manheim sighed, and shook his head. "I'm calling it. Time of death..." He looked up at the clock "...0830 hours." He took off his surgical gloves, which were covered in blood.

"Undo the straps."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Later that day...

Regina sighed as she came through the door to her apartment, plopping herself down on the sofa. She decided to cancel drinks that night. Work was crazy. She had changed from her work scrubs to a thin sweatshirt and jeans. There wasn't really a need to wear them outside of the hospital anyway, even of they were pretty comfy.

The rest of the day hadn't been much different then that morning. All day, patients poured into the hospital, complaining of bites and scratches from what was reported to be crazed individuals who seemed to attack without warning. She looked at the clock. 2:30 PM. She had worked the shift the night before, and was able to leave just as the patients started flooding in. She glanced around to the table in front of her, where a single picture (http://fc64.deviantart.com/fs31/i/2008/209/8/3/Imperium_Marines_by_sauronmrc.png) lay next to the TV remote, reminding her of earlier days.

"Oh, Jess..." She said sleepily "If only..."
----------------------

A loud noise shook Regina from her sleep, almost toppling her from the couch.

"What the hell..."

She got up, looking for the source of the noise. Her front door was open a crack. Looking down, a small trail of blood could be seen leading toward a closet.

"Uh-oh..." She looked around for a weapon, scooping up a knife up from the kitchen table, before quietly approaching the closet. She gripped the handle, and opened the door.

A horrific screech followed a shambling monster out of the door, literally throwing itself on Regina, bringing the two to the ground.

A short scuffle ensued. The thing clawed and scratched at her, but Regina kept it at bay, holding it so that it's arms fell short of her. A hard kick sent it to the ground, freeing up time for Regina to grab the fallen knife. She stood up, in time to see the thing running at her yet again. She put the knife in a ready position, just like she was instructed in the Navy those years ago, and stuck it into the thing's chest, pulling it upwards. The thing shrieked as the knife made a nice cut in it's chest, and a spinning kick sent in sprawling towards the ground, no longer moving.

Regina panted, still holding the knife. Blood covered the blade, and much of her clothing. She had one thought.

I have to get out of here.

But first...

She ran into her bedroom opening a small footlocker in the head. Inside lay a nearly folded black uniform and some other military memorabilia, but that wasn't what she was interested in.

"Come on, come on, where are th- oh, here it is."

Rummaging around in the footlocker, she pulled out a polished handgun and a few magazines of ammunition. She placed one into the weapon, and cocked the slide. Damn, did that sound satisifying.

She left the bedroom, and paced toward the door, about to step out.

Wait... She thought. She turned, moving back towards the sofa. She grabbed the picture from before off the table, removing it from it's frame, and stuffed it in her pocket.

She stepped out into the hallway.

(great intro guys. Lets put some NPCs in here :D)

John Shift was a simple cook in the hotel where Felix was staying. It was the late night shift when he was in the back cleaning the pots and pans. He heard a banging on the back door and went to open it but before he got there it opened on its own and a hotel guest stumbled in. The guest looked at John with bleary eyes and he saw that he was bleeding profusely. "Oh my God!" John called and rushed over to help. He put the man's arm around his shoulder and lugged him over to a nearby chair. "What happened to you sir?" He asked.

The guest mumbled something about being attacked by crazy people but before he finished his sentence he looked at the still open door and screamed. John whirled around just in time to see 3 things sprinting towards them both. One ran into him and knocked him over and behind the counter. Apparently out of sight meant out of mind for these creatures. John had no sooner hit the floor than the guests agonized screams hit his ears. He peeked around to corner and saw the beings devouring the man. "Holy...oh my God, oh my god!" He kept saying over and over again. With blurred vision he stumbled across the kitchen and out the door that lead to the dining area which he quickly blocked with a table and other objects.

He turned around and was greeted with another sight. The hotel lobby was completely empty. That was unusual. What was worse was that there appeared to be blood stains on the walls and floors. "What the hell?" He wondered aloud. Just then the front door banged open and John dived out of sight. He looked over the counter he had hidden behind and saw Felix barricading the door like the hounds of hell were trying to get in and in a way they were. Before he could call out Felix had finished barricading and had rushed back up to his room. He looked around and then followed. It was better than being alone in something like this. He knew which room was his because he had delivered room service to him sooner in the day and remembered being given a generous tip. He knocked on the door and called out. "Mr. Comuncu! It is me, John the cook! Please, let me in! I'm scared shitless right now!"

Michael Taylor was an aide at the same hospital as Regina. He was the one who checked patients in and out and recorded what happened to them all. He was noticing an odd number of bite marks that day but he didn't think much of it at first. That was until he started hearing screams from the back rooms. He leaned around a corner of his cubicle area and saw one of the doctors being attacked by what appeared to be a patient. Michael rushed forward to help and grabbed the patient from behind but was taken completely by surprise at the person's insane strength. Even though he and the doctor tried to push together, the man just would not move and kept attacking the doctor. Michael called for help and others soon joined in but not before the beast had a solid bite on the doctors hand that nearly took a finger off. The other people subdued the beast and strapped him down to a stretcher. Michael looked at the person and noticed that there was something strange about his eyes. They didn't seem to really focus nor did he seem to understand what was holding him down to the stretcher. He kept trying to get up only to be stopped by the straps.

Michael shook his head and helped the bitten doctor wrap his hand and got him to the other doctors for medical attention. He went back to his cubicle and finished the day out but there were more and more attacks during the day and eventually a correlation between bites and attacks was made and every bite victim that came is was immediately strapped down and subdued.

As Michael walked to his nearby apartment that day he saw a creature go crashing through the door of one of his neighbor's apartments. Before he got there he heard a woman screaming and some bangs and thuds. When he got to the door he saw Regina walking out holding a bloody knife and a pistol. "Whoa now..." he said backing up, "lets not do anything hasty."

Whoa now...lets not do anything hasty.

Regina startled, swinging the pistol up with practiced ease at the location of the voice. Looking at the person, she recognized him as Michael Taylor, the guy at the front desk. They had conversed before once or twice, but didn't really knew each other that well. She lowered it instantly.

"Mike?" She began, pushing back a piece of her hair from her face, which was tied up in a ponytail. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm asking myself the same question right now. Why do you have a gun and what the hell happened in there?" He asked.

Regina considered the question. He did have a point, though.

What did happen in there?

"I was attacked." She said. "Some crazy guy hid in a closet and waited for me to open the door."

Michael looked in the door and saw the body. "Geezus...." but then froze. The body was getting up. Dripping blood and other fluids the thing came at them again "Holy shit!" Michael called and slammed the door in the things face. They heard a thud as the thing hit the door and heard a frustrated scream from the other side. "Quick, to my apartment!" He called and rushed to his rooms. He reached under his couch and pulled out a Mossberg 500 shotgun (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mossberg_500) and a box of 20 shells.

Regina quickly followed Mike to his apartment as the thing started coming back towards them. That door wouldn't hold it for long. She was more then a little surprised that the underside of his couch contained a pump-action shotgun and a little box of shells.

"What the hell? Why do you have that!?" She exclaimed. A pistol was one thing, but a shotgun?

Michael grinned sheepishly. "I was robbed once while I was in the house but I couldn't do jack cause the guy had the weapon. I promised to not let that happen again. Plus, I like to go hunting." He loaded the 5 rounds the shotgun held and put one in the chamber. Suddenly he saw the thing come crashing into his apartment. He took a crouched firing stance and planted so much shotgun shrapnel into the things head it literally exploded and the creature collapsed. "Well, at least something kills those things..." he said.

(Allright, got to go for the night so i'll pick up tomorrow.)

"Hunting...right."

She was about to say more when Mike's door crashed open, and the thing jumped inside. She was about to raise her own weapon when Mike blasted the thing full of lead, so much so that the thing's head literally exploded, showering the area with blood.

Regina kept her gun raised as she approached the body. She gave it a small kick.

Nothing happened.

Well, at least something kills those things...

"Well." She said, lowering the weapon. "That's one way to do it. What are they?"

"I'm not sure. All I know is they're damn hard to kill" Michael said and just then the TV Michael had left on in a different room flipped to a news story covering the events of the day.

-----------
This just in. There are reports of...things attacking people and...devouring them? The news caster looked offstage for a second with a perplexed look on her face. Mumbled confirmations came over the TV and the anchor got back to the story. Apparently, an unknown toxin has invaded the cities water source and is causing people to desire other people's flesh. Some reports are saying that the infected are actually dead wanting the flesh of the living. The government has issued a statement that the Home Guard is being activated to meet this crisis and will be moving into the town to clean it out in a few hours. And now...wait, what in the WORLD?

The newscaster stood up out of her seat a little as muted screams were heard in the background. And then she screamed herself as a mass of the creatures approached the news stand, reaching towards her and moaning aloud.

Get away from me! she screamed as she started backing away but encountered the glass backdrop of her studio. As Michael watched, horrified, the news caster was torn to bits on live television by a teeming mass of the walking horrors.

"Oh my God..." he said and sat down heavily in a chair.

Felix ran to the door and opened it. "Get in here." He grabbed the chef's shirt and threw him in. "Do you have any clue what the fuck is happening?"

Name: Sallay Kurrucs.
Picture (http://wwwcapemaycountyherald.com/files/imagecache./dpcArticleDetail/files/84826.jpg)
Weapons: An HK .45 ACP semi-automatic and a trench-knife.
Occupation: A private helicopter pilot.
Short Bio: Sallay moved to Mt Id after serving two tours in the Ursavian National Airforce and five years as a private helicopter pilot in Ursava. He moved because he was offered an extremely lucrative contract by a rich CEO of some company to fly him too and from various destinations. His interaction with the CEO and his staff has provided Sallay with an experienced understanding of the language but he doesn't pay too much attention to local customs unless he has to.
Training: The Ursavian National Airforce trained him in basic fire-arms use and maintenance, how to recase his own rounds (put in the powder, shape the jacket, etc.) and he is an excellent pilot given his two past carreers.

-----------------------------------------------------


Sallay had yet to flip the darkened visor of his helmet down to block out the day's glaring sun because he was only checking the instruments before he took off and took his client from the roof of the sixty-story building to the local airport where he was supposed to catch a flight out of the country, giving Sallay a whole week of rest and relaxation without needing to ferry anybody anywhere. Or at least that's what Sally thought until he saw the roof door come bursting open in the corner of his eye. He saw the two black-suited men who always guarded his client backing up out of the door and firing down at something unseen with their submachine guns. Then they slammed the door shut and one of them locked it before they both came running in to the helicopter.

"Fly!" One of them yelled.

Sallay looked back at the two of them as one of them slid the side-door of the Bell 412 helicopter and sat on one of the seats that let him look out the door's two windows.

"What happened to the boss?" Sallay asked, referring to his client.

"He's one of them, they're trying to eat us so fly!" The first guard said again.

As Sallay nodded and started up the rotors he saw the door slowly coming open, bending forward as the hinges broke. Sallay silently swore as he took off from the roof and watched several of the zombies, at least a dozen, come charging from the doorway and try and reach the helicopter. Fortunately however, Sallay had managed to take off and was now flying away from the building and not daring to look back.

Later that Day

Any nearby radio on the ground set to the right frequency would hear Sally's voice saying the following:

"Attention to all survivors, this is Blue Sky. I have a rescue camp and a helicopter set up, if there are any survivors please respond immidiatelly and tell me your location. I repeat, I have a rescue camp and a helicopter set up so tell me your location and I'll come to pick you up."

John landed in a heap on the floor of Felix's room. "I haven't a clue, sir. All I know is something out there decided to make a meal out of one of the other guests and almost got me as well. I was hoping you could tell me what was going on." he said while slowly climbing to his feet.

"Attention to all survivors, this is Blue Sky. I have a rescue camp and a helicopter set up, if there are any survivors please respond immidiatelly and tell me your location. I repeat, I have a rescue camp and a helicopter set up so tell me your location and I'll come to pick you up."

A Super Zed on the ground grinned as he heard the message come over the radio he had picked up from a store. "A rescue camp, eh? More like a buffet line if you ask me." He said to himself. The nearby Intelligents laughed and the Brutes ginned stupidly.

He responded to the call: "Hello? Anybody there? We heard the message. We're here in the city. Just tell us where you are and we'll make our way there. Boy its great to hear a human voice."

"Holy sh#t; guys we've got somebody!" The voice of one of the two guards called out, not to the people responding to the message but apparently to somebody else.

Then Sallay's voice came over after some hard-to-decipher talking in the backround.

"No-can-do on the location pals, we have no idea exactely where we are. If you can tell us an address or something though we'll try and make our way to you." Sallay responded.

It was true, he had no idea how exactely to give directions as they were jst somewhere just outside the city on the outskirts, looking in and waiting for somebody to respond while they checked the few weapons they had with them. Sallay sat in the pilot's seat and held the microphone's supporting 'rod' of curved metal on his head-set while he waited for a response from the survivors who had just responded.

The Zed sighed. It would have been too easy but so so nice. "We're in the downtown area pretty much dead center of the whole city. Are you North, South, East, or West of us?" he called over the radio.

Kash walked sluggishly towards a military jeep. He got inside and began to drive through city streets. He kept the speed rather low, twenty five mph. His eyes looked around as he searched for warm flesh. " Hungry....need ....food...warm."

"Downtown? How the hell are you still alive? Never mind, just set yourselves up for a seige to be safe and contact me again when you're ready, Blue Sky out." Sallay's voice said over the radio.

Sally sighed and leaned back. He had seen the downtown districts of the city from overhead and the place had seemed packed with corpses...some of them getting up and moving again. Sallay leaned back in his seat and rubbed the bridge of his nose while he waited for the survivors to send back a message that they were ready for evacuation (ad a long-term seige in case something came up that prevented Sallay from getting there in good time).

The Super Zed frowned. That was abrupt. Then he shrugged and pointed out a few of the brutes who still looked mostly human. He got them to "hide" on the top floor of a building and barricade the way up. He then instructed them to act like survivors, and even though they weren't too bright, they could pull it off from a distance. He nodded and then picked up the radio again. "All set here. We set up flags on the roof of the building we're in. It should have enough room to land that helicopter u were talking about."

A live human peeked out of his doorway at the slowly moving military jeep that Kash was in. "Hey, looks like the military!" He said to himself. He quickly raced out into the street and waved at the vehicle to get its attention. "Hey! Over here!"

Kash smiled before becoming serious. He opend the door that had a red star painted on it. "Come in, are you injured?" He said almost licking his lips. Kash was cold and very pale, but it made him seem almost youthful.

"I have no fucking clue mate. But we need to survive. We should be safe here. But you need a weapon. You know how to shoot?" Felix said.

The man sighed. Finally. Some help. "Not really, just got a bruised arm from banging it against a door or something." He said and climbed into the passenger seat of the car. The military man looked odd but he didn't care. He was getting out of here!

John laughed. "Not only can I shoot, I was the top marksman of my senior class rifle club." he said proudly. He neglected to mention that there were only 5 people in the club. He shot well enough.

"Rodger that, I'll get there as soon as I can." Sallay's voice said.

Sallay started up the helicopter, the two body-guards staying behind to keep the camp secure and to help any other survivors that might come along. Sally definately wouldn't need any of the fire-power they carried given what he was going to do. Sallay entered the city and moved between the taller buildings while watching the streets below. Then he saw it: a mass of them. There were at least two or three dozen off them and they were running after his helicopter as if they could somehow get it. Sallay got on the radio as soon as he could while he flew.

"Listen, get ready to shoot: I've got a bunch of them chasing me and I can't out-run them because the buildings are too tightly grouped. Lock n' load and I'll be there as soon as I can boys."

Regina looked at the screen dumbfounded as she watched the newscaster be torn limb from limb on live television.

"Holy crap!" She said. "It's happening all over the city!" She turned to Mike. "We can't stay here, it isn't safe."

The man sighed. Finally. Some help. "Not really, just got a bruised arm from banging it against a door or something." He said and climbed into the passenger seat of the car. The military man looked odd but he didn't care. He was getting out of here!

" Here I got some food..." He said turning over before quickly coming up with his AK-103, the thing was so long in the little jeep that the barrel was touching the mans face. Kash locked the doors staring at the man.

The zed frowned. Not what he needed. He called to one of the Intelligents. "Get those chasing the copter to back off. We need them to land long enough to find out where they came from." The Intelligent saluted and ran off at lightening speed to catch up the group. The could hear the chopper approaching and got bearings from that. Once the Intelligent reached the group he shouted out and got the group to stop chasing the chopper and divert down another path.

Character Info
Name:Jack Brannigan
Weapons: Ak-47 with mounted flashlight.
Occupation: Unemployed
Short Bio: Jack is a married man who lives in an apartment near the center of town with a wife and two kids.
Training: None

Jack stood still, smoking gun in his hand as the body of the woman fell to the floor. It was his wife. She landed, a pool of blood starting to form from the single bullet hole in her head. He had been looking out over the street, watching the people move slowly through the street when she came through the door, moaning and crying. He had asked her whats wrong, but she didn't reply. Then with tears in his eyes he put one bullet in his head. Now he heard scratching at the doors of his childrens room. They too were infected. Unable to bring himself to do the same to them he locked their doors. Now as the creatures outside banged on his walls, doors, and windows he crouched beneath the kitchen table, crying and clutching his AK to his chest.


Behind him a window shattered.

Michael agreed. "But where else can we go?"

-----------

The man stared dumbly at the rifle. "Uh...got a problem man?" he laughed nervously.

"Good. Take this." He handed him a bandoler and the R700. "Now, when morning rolls around I will take you to the the gunshop and you can pick your own. Now, if we are gonna work toghether, I am gonna lay out some rules. Rule 1, don't even piss without telling me first. Rule 2 go nowhere alone, Rule 3, don't talk to the military, just avoid them. You don't know what their orders are, they could be told to kill everyone. Rule 4, your cookin from now on." Felix smiled.

"No...but you do.." Kash said before dropping the rifle barrel down and with that there was a loud crack, shooting the man in the gut. His blood splattered around in the jeep and onto his face. He licked it up before throwing the rifle down and beginning to move across the seats towards the man.

He jumped up and fired at the window. "MOTHER FUCKERS!" he cried, filling three of them with lead. Behind him he heard the patio door fall off its hinges. He spun around but it was too late. One grabbed out at him, its mouth open wide. They both fell to the floor and more zombies flooded in. Jack reached out and grabbed a knife on the floor, plunging it into his attackers head. jack fired the rest of his clip into the heads of the now closing zombies.

A brute dived through the window behind Brannigan and charged at what he hoped was his next meal.
----------

John took the R700. "All right, I'll accept that. Even the first. Cause I really gotta piss, so I'll be right back." he said and ran off into the bathroom.

-------

The man gasped as his guts spilled out into the jeep and the thing started crawling towards him. "Shit! You're one of them!" he said and fumbled with the lock on the door trying to get out.

"Bathroom is right there." He pointed to the rooms bathroom. "Also, no lights at night. They see that and we are deader than Elvis."

Slashing through the mob he reached the fire extinguisher and covered the mob in foam. They screamed, surpirsied, and Jack swung at the crowd. Now, he pulled out his pistol and started to fire but one jumped on his back. Within seconds he was completely covered. He closed his eyes and held his breath as they ripped into his arms and legs. One submerged its hand in his back and pulled at his spinal cord. with one final breath, Jack died.

With a surge of immenses undead stregth he grabbed the man's hand and slammed it against the window, cracking the window and smashing his whole hand. Kash got on top of him and began rip him apart, first by biting down on his neck. His seemingly clean white teeth entered the mans throat.

But where else can we go?

Details, details, details! Regina wasn't one for planning.

"I don't know, anywhere but here!"

OOC: Well im done... my douche brother has to use compo.. i would have made him a real character but oh well.

John ginned at the joke and saluted before going into the bathroom. Before he had even had time to unbuckle his pants, a fist came through the window and he shouted out "They're coming through! The must have climbed up here!" and fired a round from the R700 out the window at the head that appeared there but only nicking the things ear. It yelped and got out of the window.
-------------------
The man was in his deaththroes and tried to fight back but was quickly overcome by Kash and torn to shreds. Basics, attracted to the sounds, began clambering against the sides of the jeep trying to get in for the kill.
-------------------
Michael thought for a minute. "Allright, lets get some gear and then head out." He said and opened up a walk in closet. Inside it was pretty much anything you might need for a week out on a mountain. Backpacks, flares, matches, food, oil, flashlights, etc. "Pick what you need and lets move out." he said and started stuffing a backpack with materials they might need.

(Well blashyrk, this is a forumn. Not a chat room. You can go away and come back a few hours later and it'll still be here. lol. So you don't have to stop just cause ur brother wants on. Besides, I need to leave myself. Be back later guys.)

Kash looked up seeing the basics outside. He opened the door and kicked the almost dead, mutilated body out of the jeep and onto the street. He would let his comrades have there prize. They needed it more than he did anyways. Keep the troops happy and your forces keep moving.

"SHIT!" Felix grabbed the axe bottle and ran to the bathroom. He lit the lighter and sprayed the axe out the window. "BURN MOTHER FUCKER!" The things screamed as their skin melted and they fell. He kept the fire burning. Soon a pile of bodies formed below. "Shit man, that was close." He walked to the sink. He used the axe to pop the cheap fake granite counter top off. He jammed it in the window and barricaded it with the rooms table and chairs. He then went to the main room and called for John to help him flip the bed in front of the main window. "Tommorrow man, were gettin the fuck outta this godforsaken place." He said winded.

Grabbing a backpack from the closet, Regina grabbed a handful of stuff, throwing it into the back with haste. She paused for a moment, wondering why Mike had so much stuff just waiting in her closet.

Grabbing enough supplies to keep her going, but not enough for the bag to be a burden, she fastened it around his back. Pulling her pistol, she approached the door, leaning against the side.

"Ready when you are."

Sallay watched in confusion as the pack suddenly took off in a completely different direction. Sallay then continued to look ahead until he saw a building with two flags that seemed to be simple shirts flying from the corners and Sallay could swear he saw movement on the inside. Sallay wasn't going to take any chances however, and spoke over the radio to the presumed survivors once again. If he saw them not do anything he'd know that they were simply smart zombies being informed by another source on the radio a distance away and thus if Sallay saw anything he deemed as suspicous he wouldn't land to pick up the 'survivors'.

"Alright, head to the roof and I'll pick you up." Sallay said, not landing and instead hovering a good distance away from the building.

Character Info
Name: Stanley Keyes
Description: A medium build 19-year old, with a small beard.
Weapons: The weapons currently in the pawn shop. (A shotgun, two bolt-action hunting rifles, a lever action rifle, a magnum, and a 15-shot semi-automatic)
Occupation: Pawn Shop Employee
Short Bio: Stanley took the job at the E-Z Money Pawn Shop to earn money for college. He has no family to speak of.
Training: None.

OOC: Be back later.

OOC: Bio

IC:

Stanley sat at the desk, coffee on one end of the desk, papers on the other. Crunching numbers was not very fun, but it got the money into the college fund. His boss, an old man named Warhol, walked in, nodded to Stanley, and walked into the back. From what Stanley heard, he got a glass of water. Then, he heard a... thud.

Running into the back, Stanley say his boss, on the ground, having a seizure. The glass of water lay smashed on the ground beside him. Keyes promptly called 911, and within minutes, the paramedics came and took Warhol away.

In the meantime, Stanley swept up the glass, and through it out. He polished the guns, usually Warhols job, set up the ammunition display, and, went to Warhols "company" refridgerator, witch was a remnant from when this was a diner. Opening it, he noted it was well stocked. Stan took out a bottle of water, then sat back down at the desk, looking out the barred windows and doors.

Suddenly, pandemonium erupted outside. People were having seizures everywhere, paramedics and ambulances ran back and forth. Stan considered going out, but then he saw... THEM.

The people, if he could call them people, ran towards one man near him. The man screamed, and tried to run, but the creatures knocked him down, and began to devour him. After they glutted themselves on the man, they turned around, and saw Stan.

Quickly, Stan turned the electronic lock on, causing the door to be sealed. The zombies broke the glass, and reached through the bars. Stan, fumbling, picked up the shotgun and blindly loaded it. He pumped it, then fired wildly at the zombies eight times. He managed to kill one; the rest just got more angry.

While he was reloading a second time, Stan realized it was useless. There were to many, but luckily they could not get through the bars. He sat down in the chair, gripping his weapon, and slept fitfully, waking up occaisionally to note the zombies disperesed as day grew nearer.

As day broke, Stan looked out and saw that there were no zombies outside. Unlocking the door, he poked his head out. His car had been smashed, and Warhols "comapny" van was overturned and somewhat on fire.

"Well," Stan said aloud, "I won't have to worry about the college fund." He stepped back inside, locked the door, loaded all the weapons, made a sandwhich, ate it, then went back to sleep.

John sat down, winded as well. "Phew. That was close. How the fuck did the get up here?" He asked, shaken. "And how do you propose we get out of here? We're surrounded!"
---------
Michael zipped his backpack shut and pick up his shotgun. "All right, I suggest we figure out the route we're going to take to get out of this god forsaken place. We can't just rush out there blindly and hope we get out of here. You're probably more familiar with the city than I am, so here's a map. What exit would be most efficient?" He asked and tossed a military satellite image map on the table in front of her.
-----------

The Zed motioned at an Intelligent and it secretly got the Brutes out onto the roof who started waving at the copter. He then got on the radio and sent "All right, we're up and unless you expect us to try to jump onto the copter, I would suggest you come a little closer."

Kash saw the zombies tear the man a part. " There will be much more if you follow my leadership...much...much more." Kash was smarter than probably any other zombie. He knew that there were still pacthces of the city untouched and filled with warm bodys. He threw down his AK-47 as it was empty.

The basics looked at Kash. The only thing they understood was food so when it was offered, they immediately turned to follow him. Although mindless, their one pursuit of living flesh could keep them going for days at a time. And since they had already been given a taste by this Kash, they were more than willing to follow him.

The basics, the lowest of the low, but Kash respected them the most. He had a mod of over a hundred now as they marched down the streets. He need quicker ones though. So he called out for them as well. Kash needed to amass an army to assault a untouched district. The next part of the city would be cut off by his forces. His first force would push forward while a second voice would cut around a small chunk of the city so when the survivors tried to flee they would be picked off.

Character Info
Name: Captain Rodney Mason
Weapons: M-8 w/Designated Marksman Module, Taurus PT-92, Combat Knife, M67 Frag Grenades
Occupation: Soldier
Short Bio: Rodney is a career soldier with the OWM's emergency Special Forces Response Team, specifically part of the OWM's Air Infantry Recon Division. The elite paratroops were sent to Mt. Id to try to contain the infection. He was a Company Commander for the initial strike, in which due to principally light resistance the troops managed to retake around a fourth of the city. The only reason for this, however, was that the infection had not spread to most of the city yet. The troops have begun taking heavy casualties, and Mason's company is at around 60 percent full strength.
Training: Standard OWM's Army Training, Officer Candidacy School, Paratroop Training, Special Forces Training

Regina gazed at the map of the city, again wondering why Mike is so prepared for anything ranging from viral outbreaks to nuclear war.

"Hmm..." She began, studying it. "We should probably get to the nearest military garrison, wherever that may be. Failing that, we should at least try to find others. I don't see a fort near here though."

Stan woke up to the sound of screeching metal. A Brute was bending the weak metal bars of his door, with 5 basics behind it. Stan yelled, and picked up the shotgun, and began blasting crazily. The Brute fell with the first two shots, but the damage was done; the basics squeezed through the hole.

Stan managed to kill all of them, but from the sound, more were coming. He reloaded the shotgun, grabbed the magnum, tucked it into his pocket, and slung the lever action rifle over his shoulder. He filled his backpack with ammo and supplies, then ran into the back and deadbolted the door as the zombies entered.

"There has to be a way to escape." Stan thought, looking frantically as the zombies began pounding on the door. A door gave him more hope. He ran to it, and opened it, stepping into the opening.

It was dark, with some electric bulbs strung on wires. Wooden supports kept up the dirt roof. Stan knew what this was- about 5 years ago, before he was here, some criminals tried to dig into a bank. They did not succed, for they hit the sewers.

Closing and barracding the door, Stan ran down the tunnel. If he could follow the sewers far enough, he could escape... or at least get away from here.

Kash and his group heard screaming off in the distance along with the roars of Brutes and the yells of Intelligents. Suddenly shots began ringing out from the buildings surrounding Kash and his mob. It looked like they had been ambushed by a group of about 10 people set up on the higher floors of the buildings along the street.
-------------------
A large group of Basics appeared in front of Captain Mason's company and began their slow march towards the humans. What the Captain didn't know was that another large force of Brutes and Intelligents were forming behind him as well.
------------------
Michael pointed to a spot on the map. "There is a fort nearby. Only it is underground and under normal circumstances you would need a Top Secret Clearance to even know it existed. We'll head there and pick up some better weapons and other equipment." He then turned to look at Regina. "I guess its time I came clean with you. I'm not a mere aide at the hospital. I'm part of a Hidden Forces team that was sent in to inspect this Zinium company and their new power source. When we first allowed them to build they didn't tell us there was any sort of waste product from the power. When we found out, we had to figure out a way to get in and discover what it really was. Some of the leaders at our hospital actually worked for Zinium and I was sent there to see if I could find some records or any sort of evidence that could tell us what they were really doing out here. That's why I have this sort of equipment. We were told to be ready for any sort of operation we might be called upon to do."
------------------------
As Stan ran down the tunnel, his footsteps reached the ears of an Intelligent with a large force of Basics and a few Brutes with him. He stopped their search of the sewers for edible bits and began rushing down the tunnels towards Stan, not seeing him but definitely hearing him. Even the basics managed a shambling run.

IC coming soon.

As Stan ran through the tunnel, he heard the footsteps of a mob, as it sounded. Dodging into the thrid fork on the right in the underground, he pounded through the sewers, keeping an eye behind him.

The Zed motioned at an Intelligent and it secretly got the Brutes out onto the roof who started waving at the copter. He then got on the radio and sent "All right, we're up and unless you expect us to try to jump onto the copter, I would suggest you come a little closer."

"What do you think this is, a video game? I can see that none of you 'survivors' have a radio." Sallay's voice said mockingly over the radio.

The helicopter didn't come closer, didn't get lower, and didn't have it's doors open. Instead the Huey-like helicopter actually pulled away from the roof top and rose up. They were obviously smart enough to use radios and pull of tricks such as that so Sallay didn't want to risk the possibility of them using guns on him. Thus Sallay pulled up over the roof, well out of jumping range, and waited to see what they would do. Sallay watched through the windshield and waited patiently, adjusting his controls as needed.

"Look, the zombies are less active during the day. We move out then. Get some rest. I'll take first watch."

Regina greeted this little confession by Mike with something that most people would have greeted it as: disbelief. Whatever the case, he seemed to know what he was talking about. She was going to need a little more proof then that. She placed her hand in her pocket, feeling the picture there.

"Yeah." She commented. "And I'm an Angenterian secret agent bent on assassinating the Prime Minister." She smiled "No, I'm not. But let's get going anyway." She took her hand out of her pocket. There would be time for that later. She raised her pistol, inched towards the door, and leaned out.

As Stan ran through the fork in the tunnels, he came upon a ladder. It went up to an open manhole. Running to it, and slinging the shotgun over his other shoulder, he went up. He then put the manhole, which was nearbye, back over it. Then, he looked around.

Seeing a car dealership a little ways away, he walked towards it. Car dealers always kept their vehicles tanks on full for test drivers.

He picked out a black compact car that got 36 mpg. He ran into the building, took the keys for that car, unlocked it, got in, and began to drive. The engine noise would attract zombies, but HE WAS OUT OF HERE!!!

The company saw the mob as they approached their position in a decrepit hardware store. "Up an' at 'em!" Yelled Mason at his troops. The quick metallic clacks of cycling M8 bolts filled the small space. "Support gunners to the windows and the entrances covered by carbines. Marksmen: get to elevated positions. Lieutenant Sheehan, get our snipers on the roof. Sergeant Eriksson, support them with your fireteam." The clump of boots on the corrugated metal stairwell drowned out all but the Captain's shouting. "Lieutenant Anders, get those floodlights set up in front. I want a screen of Claymores just in front of them." Mason unfolded the bipod on his M8 equipped with the Marksman Module. He set it on the sill of a window; next to the flushed face of a Support Gunner, a corporal from Captain Scott's company. last night hadn't gone so well. The Division had been ambushed while retaking a series of apartments; and men were scattered all over. He still didn't even know this man's name. "Remember," yelled Mason, "these things can only be taken down by near-total dismemberment or a head shot, so either aim well or fill the air with gunfire. Keep your frags nearby, and be ready to retreat if we start getting overrun." For a moment after he was done, the silence was absolute. Then came the unearthly howl of one of the Infected, followed by the drumming of dozens of running feet. The howl was cut short by the crack of an M24 on the roof, ending in a sort of gurgling screech. "Just a reminder these things can die," crackled the voice of Lt. Sheehan on the TacRadio. Mason allowed himself the ghost of a smile, but it faded as the mob rounded the corner. Mason looked through the rifle's sights. "Open fire!"

The Intelligents scented out Stan and followed his scent up to the ladder. "He's up there." one said to a Brute and it flexed its leg muscles and nearly exploded out of the hole, taking the manhole cover with him. The cover flew through the air and crashed into the windshield of Stan's car as it started driving. the rest of the mob surged up and out of the hole and raced towards Stan.
---------------
(Good job on noticing the radio. I was wondering if it would occur to you. You're quick. lol)
The Zed slapped his forehead. Ofcourse. He should have thought of that. "You're right, some of us are still on the lower levels. I'm the there with the radio. It is one of those old non portable ones that you stick in one spot and don't move." He said over the radio. It wasn't true, but anything to get them to land. "We could really use a pick up you know."
--------------
Michael looked at her quizzically. "You're obviously not an assassin or you would know we don't have a Prime Minister. We have a President." He said and then grinned. "And you're right. Lets get moving."

He stepped out into the hallway and noticed that it was clear...for the moment. "Its clear. Move out." He said and put his words to action. He readied his shotgun and opened the door to the outside. He leaned out and was surprised to find it also clear. "Well, we got about a mile to go to the bunker so lets hurry." He said and started to jog to the west while keeping his eyes open for any enemies.
--------------
The mob in front was being slaughtered, but for every one that fell there were 3 to replace them. They just kept coming and started climbing into the building where the troops were stationed. As the main assault focused on the front, the Brutes in the back formed up as an Intelligent placed a C4 charge on the back wall of the hardware store. He set the timer but accidentally set it to 1 sec instead of one minute. The explosive went off and vaporized the Intelligent and a few nearby Brutes, but knocked a large hole in the back that the Brutes started pouring through.

Kash needed a new weapon anyways and with the flesh from these survivors he could feed and keep morale up in his forces. He orderd teh basics to slam into the buildings and try to break in as fast as possible. Brutes would also be needed to demolish the buildings. Once they got inside he would have the quickest of the zombies rush into the house as shock troops. Kash took cover behind a wall. He wasn't rotting and he didn't know why, must have been his dna. It didn't stop him from being cold.

The Basics started bashing up against one of the buildings but couldn't break through the barricades. They had been built too strongly. However, hearing the commotion a force of Brutes appeared from the next street over and dashed towards the barricades, hurling themselves into doors, windows, and any other point of entry. Their strength combined with their speed knocked the barricades out of the way in no time. The mob started clambering through the new holes and soon screams could be heard from inside.

Some Intelligents followed behind and noticed Kash. The talked to each other and then approached him. "What are you?" They asked.

Kash was suprised at there "intelligence" " As far as I know, I'm you, or at least similar" he said. He turned to the others " Take them for yourselves!" he said putting his cold fist into the air as the screams echoed. " Bring me there weapons!!" Kash said before turning to the intelligents that were talking to him.

OOC: I got that radio thing because it always annoys me in a game how somebody may be talking to you on a radio yet they don't have one visible on them hence Sallay's "What do you think this is, a video game?" comment.


"Then come on up, I think the zeds are pulling something with how quickly they got away so come-on with the come-on!" Sallay's voice said as he reached for his Desert Eagle and pulled it from the holster at his thigh.

Sallay was going to test them. Even if they were zombies who could use radios helicopter controls were far too complex to control without advance training. Thus, if they were zombies he could simply hold them that if they ate him they would face not being able to get anymore food ever again. Besides that he would do a standard quick-evac style 'landing' where a helicopter hovered near the edge of the building/ship/other place where the people being picked up were and they would just have to make a small hop over. With a slight move of the controls those who had just hopped over could easily be sent plummeting to the ground and to a very painful situation.

The Intelligents grinned. New guy. "Sorry my friend, they don't understand such complex orders. The Basics only know one thing, food. And the Brutes aren't much better. If you want the weapons, you'll either have to get them yourselves or get some lackeys who understand you better. Like us but believe me. We're noones lackeys. Those Brutes are ours. If you want, we can let you...join our little raiding group." The Intelligent said with a sneer. He seemed to enjoy his feeling of "superiority" a little too much.
------------------
(Ah. lol. Smart)
The Zed climbed up the building and onto the roof and dragged a few Intelligents along with him to look realistic. He waved at the copter and signaled it to come closer.

Kash didn't like disobedience, he was supplieing the what was for dinner and he would be damned if these few smartys were going to try and be better than him. He would play along for now. " I will join you" he said nodding. Kash ran up the stairs up to the roof where the weapons were laying down, abonded by the basics who muched them to peices.

OCC: tell me what weapons there are there.

(There's an AR-15, a Remington 870, an M4, and various handguns)

Kash picked up the M4 and a Tarus raging bull 457., it was a heavy pistol but could punch a hole through almost anything. He sat down and began putting shells into the magazine and the 457. He walked down the stairs and walked up to the two intelligents that talked to him earlier. Kash unfolded a black beret that matched his bloody urban camoflauge and put it on. A bite mark could be seen on his neck that was almost black from the cold outside. " So tell me about this..." He raised the 457. till it touched the zombies head and pulled the trigger.

(OOC: 1 second? What qualifies him as an Intelligent, that he knows what the charge is?)

A blast of pure white and incredible noise filled the store. The three men closest to the wall were killed instantly, and flying shrapnel filled the shop. The Captain wheeled, firing blindly into the breach. The bolt of his rifle locked on empty. He threw down the weapon and whipped out a grenade and his sidearm. He pulled he trigger as fast as possible, hoping that the pistol wouldn't jam. With his left hand he primed and threw the M67, trusting that the other men in his company would follow his lead. The blasts of thunder reverberated in the small space. Mason felt a momentary pang of regret; then decided that any wounded men that had been in the vicinity would be better off dead if they were overrun. "Cover that breach!" He screamed into the TacRadio, then realized he had probably just deafened anyone listening. Concentrated rifle fire poured into the breach, but with their attention focused on the Brutes, the company's fire on the mob in front had slackened. They had reached the line of Claymores. The mines exploded, sending shrapnel ripping into the Basics at 2800 feet per second. The first three ranks fell and didn't get up. Now they were under the floodlights, and shrieks preceded a quick retreat before the lights were ripped down. Mason grabbed the nearest soldier, a PFC named Hikowa, and told him "Find the nearest exit. We need to fall back." The man nodded sharply, and ran off into the store. The Captain said over the TacRadio: "All Support Gunners on the breach. Everyone else with me on the front. Lt. Sheehan, be advised: we are pulling out in 5. Retrieve all the TacRadios and weapons from the dead, I don't want those freaks to have any more materiel than they do." He retrieved his rifle, slapped in a fresh magazine, and did the same to his pistol. Then he called over Lt. Anders and spread out a map of the city. "Look at this," he said pointing to their location. "the entire area around us is a maze of old buildings. The city planners must have taken a day off for this one." "Look here-" said Anders, pointing to a building with the tip of his gory knife. "it's a hotel-maybe we can hold out there and convert the upper floors into a fortress until evac comes." "Sounds good." agreed Mason. As if on cue, PFC Hikowa returned. "Sir, I've found a loading bay that opens into a side street. It's completely uncovered, sir." "Excellent work, private." The Captain turned to Anders. "Get Sheehan and Eriksson off the roof. We're taking the loading bay. And Anders- try to stay out of knife range from now on." "Sir!" Anders sprinted off, and the Captain bellowed "Prime and throw frags-we're falling back now! Private Hikowa has the lead." The flash of exploding grenades and the rolling shockwave finished the Brutes and stalled the basics even more. The company began to file out, reloading rifles as they went. It was going to be a long day.

Documentation Classification: Top Secret.
Name: Khaine, Thomas K.
Rank: Staff Sargent.
Branch: Telz Immortal Soldiery.
Military Occupation/Specialty: Forward Observer for Field Artillery.

All information regarding the above subject is hereby and hither to terminated. Executive Order#3K-1-83. All information pertaining to this file is deniable and executable.

Project: Volatile Son.
Utilizing key training techniques along with, sleep suggestion, and hypnosis the subject is trained and then implanted with orders to be initiated when a phrase or specific image is shown. Volatile Son is to be implanted with orders for... [Document error.]

Thomas believes he is just a soldier visiting Mt Id on holiday. He is well trained and still on active duty. But due to a minor injury his legs can go numb at times, especially after a long hard run. He noticed it most the morning of the outbreak as he had just finished a long run around the hotel.

((Sorry got cut off, I'll try to keep it short though))

Thomas felt something wet on the back of his head, and the throbbing in his ears told him it was probably blood. He noticed he was on the floor back to the ceiling chest heaving as if he had been running. The faint smell of smoke and charred human remains pricked at his nostrils as he rose slowly to his feet. He couldn't move, pain was shooting from everywhere. His wooziness was fading far too slowly for him and Thomas wished desperately that he could think clearly and focus. He forced himself to look at his shoe and focus. My shoe is black, my shoe has eight eye lits, my shoe is leather... My name is Thomas Khaine, I am on vacation, and the last thing I remember was..
It came back in a torrent of visceral sensations.
A man, shambling, shuffling man. He makes no sounds only shuffles into the lounge and steadies himself on a nearby man. Not steady, not steady at all. He waves like grain. Is he ok? No, not ok...
Thomas remembered it clearly, after that. In his astonishment the bitten individual had been pushed into the fire place where he lay crackling and popping while the lounge patrons stomped each other to death to be free of their surroundings. Thomas had ducked into the kitchen just before he saw the bitten man rise out of the fire place and walk stumbling toward the attached restaurant where two people were cowering in fear. Thomas watched as the man set ablaze knocked aside the propane burner that was fueling the flambe' table. A few short steps later were all Thomas could remember.

Thomas looked at his watch 1730 it read in blinking digital numerals. Then his world went black once again. Thomas lay on the lounge floor half way between the kitchen and the end of the bar. No one would see him unless they were head for the loading docks. His Telz identification tag, and Soldiery tag had flopped out of his T-Shirt and lay open and very visable on the floor. The infrared distress luminescence having been activated by the shock of the blast.

With the door controls up front by Sallay, he opened one of the side-doors and let it slide open. He stopped it short of being fully opened however. Instead he only opened the door enough to let one person in at a time and made sure that the landing struts were below the edge of the roof while he approached. Rotor-wash kicked up dust and small rocks while the flags the 'survivors' had set up whipped wildly in the sudden breeze. Unseeable by anybody coming in: Sallay slowly pointed is Desert Eagl to the mouth of the door and waited for anything that looked like it was affected by decay to step inside.

As the manhole crashed through his windsheild into the passenger seat, Stan slamed on the gas. The car took off, accelerating quickly, as he pulled away from the zombie horde.

As Thomas finally came to his senses he could feel the blood dried on the back of his head. Thomas turned his head from side to side to see if he was alone. He was indeed. Thomas could hear boot falls in the nearby corridor, not shambling foot shuffles but heavy boot falls, and lots of them. He figured it was civilians running for their lives. He slowly got to his feet surveying the area as he went. The blast had opened up the big bay window to the streets outside. Tom saw that the traffic was grid locked and the cars were open and unattended. He had an idea. Still unsure what was going on, but feeling the need for a weapon he moved quickly and quietly out the broken window. The wind was whipping down the street bringing the sounds of screams and howling injured. Glancing around Tom looked for a cab, cab drivers may or may not have a weapon their line of work could be dangerous at times. There were about six cabs within a hundred yards of each other. After searching each thoroughly Tom found a snub nosed .38 and half a box of shells, he dropped the pistol into his jacket pocket. Tom searched a few more cars and found only a handful of emergency kits in the trunk. People were never as prepared as they should be. He found a back pack in the back of a mini van. Dora was going to haul his stash, besides the bright purple and pink would identify him for potential rescue. Tom began running toward the sound of a helicopter. It was down the block and at the top of the hotel, a long way to go.

The Intelligent Kash had shot dropped like a stone. The others were startled and started backing away. "What's your problem man?" one said as it reached behind it for a stashed weapon.
-----------------
(Its in the OOC. To be classified as an Intelligent, certain traits in the original human have to be present for the infection to avoid the brain of the infected and leave it mostly intact.)

Most of the zombies in the breach had been obliterated by the grenades and sheer volume of rifle fire. The mob in front however had managed to get through the front and was pouncing on any troops that remained in the building, even the recently dead ones.

--------------
The Super Zed motioned at three of the Brutes and they leaped into action. The charged the now hovering helicopter as the Intelligents tossed rope grapples onto the heli and started tying it down. As the Brutes reached the edge of the roof, they dived towards the door. One misjudged the jump and ended up slamming not only through the first door but also out the other side of the helicopter and plummeted down. Its roar of rage could be heard all the way down until it hit the ground with a solid thud. The other Brutes did a better job. One landed inside the heli itself abd the other landed on the runners outside and smashed through the front window trying to reach the human inside. They had been told not to kill her if they got her but there weren't any rules against taking an arm or so.
----------------
The Intelligent stepped out of the manhole and cursed. Their food was getting away. Then, a Brute jumped from the roof of a nearby building and landed squarely on the hood of stan's car, creating a large dent and leaving the zombie to star directly into Stan's eyes behind the windshield.
----------------
A lone Basic, lost from its normal mob, was wondering around looking for meat when it saw Tom running past. With renewed vigour, it began chase.

Stan yelled, and as the car drove wildly, took out the magnum from his pocket and shot the thing 3 times, until it slumped, dead. The car, in the meantime, was nearly out of control, but Stan brough it back into some measure of control. It couldn't take much more of a beating though- its windsheild was gone, and there was a hole in the roof.

The car Stan had taken continued on its way for awhile before smoke started coming out from under the hood. The Brute's leap had damaged the motor and it was on its last legs. It started coughing and the smoke got so think Stan couldn't see a thing out the front of his car.

The Super Zed motioned at three of the Brutes and they leaped into action. The charged the now hovering helicopter as the Intelligents tossed rope grapples onto the heli and started tying it down. As the Brutes reached the edge of the roof, they dived towards the door. One misjudged the jump and ended up slamming not only through the first door but also out the other side of the helicopter and plummeted down. Its roar of rage could be heard all the way down until it hit the ground with a solid thud. The other Brutes did a better job. One landed inside the heli itself abd the other landed on the runners outside and smashed through the front window trying to reach the human inside. They had been told not to kill her if they got her but there weren't any rules against taking an arm or so.

OOC: Sallay is a guy. Also, would you mind if I just had the first brute as having gone between the gap? If not then I assure you I'll hunt down an attack chopper or a Sea King or something like that. lol.


Sallay fired three of his seven rounds through the window leaving large holes in the bullet-resistant glass that the zombie was trying to bust through and pulled away from the building as the civilian-grade ropes snapped from a combination of the rotors pulling them in and the helicopter pulling away...that and they had no mooring due to the location of the helicopter compared to the building. Sallay watched as the brute inside was forced outside the doors and straight to the street. With the helicopter clear Sallay pulled yet farther back and for safety, tore off in the exact opposite direction of the camp.

(*doh*. Dunno why I said 'her' lol. And yeah thats fine. But how are you punching holes with bullets through a bullet resistant glass? lol.)
The super zed hurled a short range tracker he had found in an electronics stor and it latched onto the retreating helicopter. He gathered up his forces and they sprinted after the heli. The sensor only had a short range so they had to keep it relatively close.

Stan stopped the engine. He couldn't see anyway.

He stepped outside of the car. He could hear a helicopter coming in the distance towards him... but it was a million to one chance. Unshouldering the lever action rifle, he cocked it, and began to run towards the sound, away from the zombie horde chasing him, to either salvation or doom.

(well, now there are 2 people running towards the Heli. looks like Sallay will have his hands full.)

The zombies that had been chasing Stan had been left behind and turned off into another district where they scented living beings so for the moment he was safe.

"Whatever. Regina commented, keeping pace with Mike. "How far out is this place anyway?"

"Its about a mile away under a department store that was a front for us. I just hope its still fully intact." He said. They ran for a while until they turned a corner he pointed it out. "There it is." he approached the building and looked inside and was promptly knocked over as a Basic came out the window after him and knocked the shotgun out of his hand. "Whoa!" He called out and started grappling with the thing. "Get...off...me!" He yelled trying to keep its slashing claws and gnashing teeth from reaching him.

"Crap!" Regina shouted, raising the pistol. Aiming carefully, she pulled the trigger, squeezing off a shot at the Basic.

The Basic collapsed with a neat hole in its head. Michael pushed it off of him and clambered to his feet. He reached to pick up his shotgun and grunted in pain. "Shit! That thing clawed my right arm pretty good." He said and showed her his arm. There was blood dripping from the shoulder down the arm and was already forming a pool at his feet. "Well that's probably not good"

Regina lowered the pistol, looking at the blood dripping from Mike's shoulder.

"Let me take a look." She remarked, approaching him. She took his arm, and examined it.

"It's cut up pretty bad. You need stitches." She said curtly. She looked around, hoping there weren't any more of those things around to hear her shooting.

"There's some Medical supplies in the bunker. Lets get moving." he said and leaned over to pick his shotgun up with his left hand and walked into the building. He typed in a code on a keypad set in the wall and a door opened that lead to stone stairs leading down. He descended the stairs and entered the bunker.
It was made up of one large room with racks of weapons on one wall, food on another, and various other supplies on another. He pointed towards the med kits. "There. You're a doc, right? Think you can fix this well enough?" he said to Regina.

Catching a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye Tom slowed and immediately speed up after identifying the flailing freak that was now sprinting in his direction. He reached for the pistol in his pocket for the pistol and stopped himself from firing over his shoulder. He would most likely miss and waste a round out of nervousness. He began weaving in and out of the cars to see if the thing would follow his exact path. After the first few ducks and dodges he saw that it was simply taking the path of least resistance to intercept him. He watched as the thing vaulted with super human strength onto a taxi cab and prepared to leap on top of him. Tom fired striking the thing in the chest he thought. To his astonishment the thing didn't even flinch it landed on top of him with a heavy whump of air escaping Tom's lungs. Snarling teeth and clawing arms with the stale stench of decay were all that filled Tom's senses. He fought back breathlessly and was finally able to raise the pistol and fire up through the bottom of the things jaw. Blood and a gout of viscera exploded out the top of the thing's skull as Tom caught his breath again with heaving gasps. He stood slowly clearing his head and searched the body for anything useful. He found::: ((GM?))
Taking or not taking what he found he continued on toward the sound of the helicopter that loomed loud and sounded closer with each foot fall. After two blocks his shins were beginning to tingle painfully and he slowed, taking the time to reload the spent round. Tom stopped suddenly. The sound of the chopper seemed to be coming from all around now. The wide street and tall buildings were interfering with the sound. Tom froze as... ((GM?))

(*doh*. Dunno why I said 'her' lol. And yeah thats fine. But how are you punching holes with bullets through a bullet resistant glass? lol.)
The super zed hurled a short range tracker he had found in an electronics stor and it latched onto the retreating helicopter. He gathered up his forces and they sprinted after the heli. The sensor only had a short range so they had to keep it relatively close.

OOC: Well, it's only resistant and most likely only to rifles fired from the ground at longer ranges of greater than a foot with a .357. Also dude, the tracker is just over-doing it. What is the likely-hood that a random electronics store would have a short-range tracker, even capable of sticking to a fast-moving aircraft?

(lol. I was wondering that myself a few minutes after I posted it. Don't worry. I'll fix it. lol)

Tom found nothing but what had probably been a wallet but was now so covered in blood it was unrecognizable.

He froze as the helicopter piloted by Sallay flew overhead and the backwash nearly knocked him off his feet.
----------------
The Super Zed cursed. His "tracker" had been one of those cheap 5 dollar ones that break after the first use. It stopped transmitting mere seconds after he hurled it at the aircraft. His forces hadn't even cleared the building before he lost track of it. He could no longer follow it by sound because the buildings bounced it around too much. He cursed again and decided to take his anger out on the next living being he saw.
(There, countered the tracker :D lol)

Tom stood quickly from being knocked back by rotor wash, he looked up in amazement at the passing chopper pilot, he shouted and waved his arms toward her...

[OOC: Important: There are generally 4 types of military issued smoke grenades or flares with various meanings. Green is used to signal the "all clear" or AIR EVAC, GENERALLY BY HELICOPTER.]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sounds of the mob inside the store reached the file of paratroops. "Faster!" called Anders. "We don't want to be trapped inside here." "Belay that order!" Yelled the Captain. "Everyone back into the store. Finish off the mob, then rest for 5. We're holding this position for now." The troops reversed direction and the remnants of the mob were immolated by the combined rifle fire. Captain Mason called over Lieutenants Anders and Sheehan. "Something's not right," he said. "This attack-so far, it's been executed too well. The mob in the front emptied our magazines and diverted our attention- then the ones at the back took our focus off of the front. They've got us covered from at least two angles; what's the odds that we actually have an uncovered escape route, especially into a long, narrow alley? It has to be a trap." Sheehan spoke up. "So how do we get out? You already pointed out that all the exits are covered." Mason grinned. "So we make our own." Anders and Sheehan looked confused for a second, then Sheehan started laughing. Anders was still confused. "How are we going to do that?" "C4. Lots of it. We're going to blow clean through into the next building."
---------------
"Fire in the hole!" Another flash and roll of thunder went through the building, and the paratroops filed through into the apartment complex next to the hardware store. They took level after level, finding the building deserted. When they got to the fifth floor from the top, the Captain gave new orders: "Set grenade triplines on the stairwell and barricade a few door with triplines just inside. Save the Claymores, but I want to buy as much time as possible." Troops went off to set the traps, and did so on every level moving up to the roof. There, two of the few remaining Claymores were set and the men began to relax. "Shoot pitons over to that building." The Captain pointed to a building across the street and two floors lower.
"That will be our emergency fallback point. Sergeant Gomez: take your fireteam across and secure the LZ." As the fireteam landed, the faint sound of a helicopter's rotors could be heard echoing through the city buildings. "Are those things smart enough to fly?" asked Anders. "I don't think so-" said Mason. "Pop green smoke! Set up watches in case we're spotted by something unfriendly. Sheehan, get a Donut in the air. Everyone else, lock and load, we're getting picked up!" Mason switched his TacRadio to civilian frequencies. "Unidentified chopper, we are a company of paratroops stranded on the top of an apartment complex. Our position is marked by green smoke. Unidentified chopper, we are a company of paratroops..."
-----------

OOC: Telz, Sallay is a guy. lol.


The helicopter reared back, it's tail coming down as it's nose dipped up before Sallay leveled the helicopter out and slowly brought it down lower. The side doors came open all the way and Sallay shouted over the nose-mounted speaker so he could be heard over the rotor-wash by the man who had waved him down to the ground.

"Come on, get in!" Sallay's voice said, loud enough to confuse zombies of the location given the current volume setting.

Then the voice of the soldier came on over the radio and Sallay immidiatelly turned his attention to the radio in order to respond.

"Rodger that soldier, give me a sit-rip and a local pronto!" Sallay asked, desperate to know the location.

Meanwhile Sallay could only wait for the man to get in.

Stan ran around the corner and saw the helicopter near the ground. He ran towards it pell mell, waving his arm, shouting "Don't leave me!!!"

Tom vaulted up onto a nearby car and hoisted himself up onto the skid. He looked around the chopper quickly, clambering over into the copilot seat throwing on the CVC. "Thanks! I could use a lift... What's that?" Tom pointed to someone sprinting all out toward the chopper. As quickly as he had sat down he was sliding the starboard door open, throwing his arm out to the man leaping toward the chopper. Tom quickly helped him in and got him seated in the crew seat before reseating himself in the copilot seat. "Hows the fuel?" He asked after returning the CVC to his head.

OOC: No, I mentioned in my first post it's a Bell 412. It looks like a Huey but it's a bit fatter at the top, just below the rotors because of the bigger engine = more lift capability.


Sallay unbuckled himself from the pilot's seat and as the man approached grabbed him by the scruff of his coat and hauled him in as if he were a man getting off a sinking ship. Then Sallay promptly scanned the area outside both doors before shutting them and getting back in the pilot's seat. Even with the holes from his Desert Eagle in the front window the sounds of the rotors were still muted enough for Sallay to look back and talk to the man while he lifted off. Sallay, before he talked however, scanned the streets around the building for green smoke (while he waited for the commander's sit-rep) and for any more survivors. As he did so, he finally started to speak.

"You okay pal?" Sallay asked, rotating the helicopter in one place well above the street.

(make up ur mind. is Sallay a guy or girl? lol)

The Intelligent Kash had shot dropped like a stone. The others were startled and started backing away. "What's your problem man?" one said as it reached behind it for a stashed weapon.
-----------------
(Its in the OOC. To be classified as an Intelligent, certain traits in the original human have to be present for the infection to avoid the brain of the infected and leave it mostly intact.)

Most of the zombies in the breach had been obliterated by the grenades and sheer volume of rifle fire. The mob in front however had managed to get through the front and was pouncing on any troops that remained in the building, even the recently dead ones.

--------------
The Super Zed motioned at three of the Brutes and they leaped into action. The charged the now hovering helicopter as the Intelligents tossed rope grapples onto the heli and started tying it down. As the Brutes reached the edge of the roof, they dived towards the door. One misjudged the jump and ended up slamming not only through the first door but also out the other side of the helicopter and plummeted down. Its roar of rage could be heard all the way down until it hit the ground with a solid thud. The other Brutes did a better job. One landed inside the heli itself abd the other landed on the runners outside and smashed through the front window trying to reach the human inside. They had been told not to kill her if they got her but there weren't any rules against taking an arm or so.
----------------
The Intelligent stepped out of the manhole and cursed. Their food was getting away. Then, a Brute jumped from the roof of a nearby building and landed squarely on the hood of stan's car, creating a large dent and leaving the zombie to star directly into Stan's eyes behind the windshield.
----------------
A lone Basic, lost from its normal mob, was wondering around looking for meat when it saw Tom running past. With renewed vigour, it began chase.


Kash turned to the other intelleigent whos freind got blasted in the face. Kash put watched him with alert eyes in case he would pull something. " What's my problem? My problem is that you are a idiotic mob, capable of little strategice thought. I'm sure that was hard for you yourself to understand. I'm in charge here, if you don't like it, kill me." He said ready to fight if he had to.

The Intelligent took his hand back from behind him. "Allright, you win. Where to now?" it asked Kash. It knew not to enter fights it couldn't win.

OOC: A guy, I've never said he's a girl. Anyways, I need a sit-rep from that commander popping smoke.


"A-okay, I fueled up at the camp I had set up." Sallay replied.

Now he had two survivors and thankfully neither of them were asking questions on why there were three holes through the windshield of the 412. Sallay pulled up even higher and began to go between the taller buildings while scanning for green smoke the whole way. Sallay was waiting eagerly for the sit-rep of the commander who had contacted him.

((I'm confused too! LOL The only reason why I asked if it was a Huey was for stored on board weaponry. All i got is a snub .38, donations? :D ))
Tom briefly took stock of himself and assesed the man riding shotgun. "I'm Tom, I'm a Telz soldier on holiday!" He said smiling cynically speaking up over the muted engine noise.

OOC: Telz, Sallay is a guy. lol.

(Never said a girl, eh? lol)

Edit: (Doh! you changed it just as I was quoting it! lol)

OOC: Typo that I just edited, you were all confusing me you big fat meanies! lol. Also, ENOUGH OOC AND GIVE ME THE SOLDIER'S SIT-REP ICly MT ID! lol.


Sallay looked over at the man who had helped himself to the co-pilot's seat...not that he really cared right now. Sallay looked back to the window and piloted low over the roof of a gas station for a brief moment while still on the look for green smoke before he finally managed to make a response: as it was only polite to return a person's greetings.

"Retired Major Sallay Kurrucs of the Ursavian National Airforce: pleasure to meet you!" Sallay responded through his mike.

He then proceeded to scrounge under the pilot's seat, but not before bringing the helicopter in to a hovering position, and removed a an HK MP5K submachine gun, standard for all people who had been working for the CEO Sallay had piloted around to-and-fro. He set it in the man's lap and then pulled out two clips: equalling three including the one in the gun.

"Soldier, do you have that sit-rep?" Sallay asked over the radio impatiently.

The Intelligent took his hand back from behind him. "Allright, you win. Where to now?" it asked Kash. It knew not to enter fights it couldn't win.

"well, lets keep moving to untouched areas of the citys, were bound to run into a area where the people are still living, but we will have to probably break through a police or military blockade at one street or another. That's where I come in, but well cross that bridge when we come to it." He said. " For now, lets move foward, send a couple of your best scouts ahead."

(uh, i think the sitrep is supposed to come from Oscar. lol. I can tell you where the smoke is however)
As Sallay turned the helicopter he saw a plume of green smoke rising up in the west.

The Intelligent looked at Kash strangely. "You just killed our best scout. The Brutes and Basics are too dumb to scout so its up to the Intelligents to do it and he was our best. But the area with the most people is this camp outside of the town that we have noticed people heading towards. It isn't all that heavily defended either."

OOC: Oh, must have mis-read the user IDs in the advanced mode for posts. Also, I doubt that's my camp since so far I've only made one attempt at pick-up and haven't broad-casted the location ever so...


As soon as Sallay spotted the smoke he started for it. The helicopter made it's way through glass sky-scrapers and over smaller buildings that had all once been busling with life. It went over grid-locked streets of completely abandoned cars and saw the building where the source of the billowing green smoke column resided. Sallay came closer but stopped at a hover a good distance away from the building.

OOC: Telz, Sallay is a girl. lol.

Tom looked at the large caliber holes that were whistling wind into the cockpit. "Have a little trouble?" He asked pointing then turning and looking out the window for more survivors or any sign of civilized human.

OOC: I just said I edited it because it was a typo.


"A bunch of those smelly freaks tried to get a ride without paying their fare: I didn't like it." Sallay said jokingly as he watched the smoke for any signs of somebody attempting to flag him down or bring him closer for a pick-up.

Stan recovered from the shock of escaping his doom. "Woah." He said, looking around. "Thanks for picking me up, man. What are we doing? I was kinda out of it there for a minute."

(Not the location, no but some people saw where your helicopter came from and then informed other humans. Its a chain reaction. lol. I'm the GM. I get to pick what happens :D. I'm trying to bring all the players together. Makes it funner. lol.)

Tom thanked Sallay and took the weapon checking to see that it was unloaded. Veteran pilots kept their weapons unloaded due to engine heat and crazy stray rounds. This guy was definately a vet. He stuffed the magazines into his jacket pockets, reorganizing the snub nose into his belt and waited. Sallay had just recieved a sitrep from the commander on the ground, Tom had listened in and heard that edge in the Commanders voice. That razor thin line of sharp reality hitting soft emotions and humanity. They were now enroute to the rising pillar of green, it looked like a massive curling caterpillar. Tom jumped to the back seat, seeing that his presence in the copilot chair was making the pilot uneasy. Tom prepared to receive the soldiers and assist in covering their escape if need be, or stay so that one more could get on.

OOC: I'll pretend I know whats going on.

IC:

Stan unshoulderd his lever action, and checked to see if its 15 shots were in. He glanced at the building, and then around, hoping the troops would hurry.

"Smart thinking, you scout ahead then, take us to the camp, I'll be right behind you." He said as he whistled to the others and pointed into the general direction.

"Stan, you any good with that thing?" Tom asked taking up his position at the door and checking his weapon and ammunition, and ensuring all the bullets were in all the right places. Tom prepared to jump.

The Basics lurched out at Kash's command but the Brutes looked to their remaining Intelligent leaders. They nodded their heads and the brutes also headed out, interspersed among the Basic mob. One of the three remaining Intelligents moved ahead to scout out the area and was gone in a flash.

It was strange, they all marched with tweaks and limps and moans. But other than that it was quiet. Kash walked forward as humanely as possible, he still had a slight dizzyed walk. The basics were on his side, but the intelligents had the brutes. They were stronger yes, but he had the numbers. Soon more and more zombies who were close by rallyed to him. This new....Empire of the Dead was on the move.

OCC: How many zombies i got? and how much farther?

(Well, I can't give you unlimited numbers because currently you don't have any food to give them. And I can't let you attack the camp until the other players get back from the city. Otherwise it'll be pointless. lol.)

Some intelligents approached the group and were assimilated with the other intelligents and the Brutes and Basics they brought with them swelled the ranks of this new Zombie force.

"Stan, you any good with that thing?" Tom asked taking up his position at the door and checking his weapon and ammunition, and ensuring all the bullets were in all the right places. Tom prepared to jump.

"Pretty good. Most of my shooting has been close range blasting with the shotgun and magnum." Stan looked around. "No zombies here. They might be in hiding. You sure you want to jump?"

Tom gave Stan a sardonic smile, " All you need is the basic principal. I'll jump when he gets about, oh say 5 feet off the ground. The knees can't take the abuse like the old days." He winked and slapped his right knee. "Let me bounce my plan off of you." Tom said pointing to the deck plate of the chopper. "Once the Major lands, we'll have a better idea of what we're in for, until then, I'll bail out at ground level and try to help them aboard. I need you to cover me and Sallay. If those things start mobbing the skid it's all on you and that hog leg to get them persuaded it was a bad idea. What do you think?"

"Okay. Sounds good to me... except for the fact when the zombies mob us..."

"Ah yes, that part is contingency only. With your sharp shooting eye my lad we will have no worries there!" Tom said after sketching out the basic plan of attack. "Think of it as mid-range blasting, you'll have graduated to it in no time!" Tom hunched and went to the back of the plan opening a storage panel that contained an emergency medical kit, a small 10LBS bottle of oxygen with mask, and a roll of 550 cord with 100mph tape, the standard issue box o'goodies in every helicopter. Tom peeled off a length of about 4 feet and cut it, making a tactical sling for his MP5. He spooled out about 15 more feet and began daisy chaining it and wrapping it around his waist. He then tied it off. Quickly he made two swiss harnesses and handed one to Stan. "Here, in close quarters the rotor wash can suck you out. Lash yourself to this eyelet, when I swing open this door you open the other to equalize the pressure and keep you and Sallay inside." Tom pointed to the eyelet on the chopper deck.

OOC: Oh, must have mis-read the user IDs in the advanced mode for posts. Also, I doubt that's my camp since so far I've only made one attempt at pick-up and haven't broad-casted the location ever so...

Yay... Didn't even post yet and my cabin is already under siege...
Wait, wasn't that the premise of my intro anyways?


IC:
A man was laying on a sofa, alongside a fire, a rather warm feeling overcame him.
A tear rolled down his cheek... and so he wrote...

<SPOILER: he throws the journal into the fire>

Outbreak, day five
Location: Remote cabin, middle of nowhere in some god-forsaken shit-hole country that just hit the fan big-time.

They're all dead now, I'm the last one, my left arm went numb yesterday, praying this is all just a bad dream. I write this in order to catalouge the events that have unfolded in the past week. I feel I have a lot of explaining to do and not much time to do it in.

The quarantine zone was supposed to keep them out, but, well, you know what happens, they just make the zone bigger until they find a nice patch fit for setting up a cordon on. So here I am, in the middle of nowhere, yet still within the urban quarantine...

The room was dimly lit, borded-up, and partritioned, shambling could be heard in some other corner of the cabin.

Anyways, like my father said, when you have a story to tell, and you mess up, start over at the begining.

My name, is Ash, yeah, get it out of your system already, kinda ironic on how this seems to flow like a B-rate movie... this actually has very little to do with a movie, because chances are there is no Dues-ex-machina that can save me now...

So, as I was saying, me and a few of my friends, Locke, Shelly, Linda, Josh, Audrie, Ed, Clark, and Carrie had a plan. We decided to forge papers for an international competition thingajigitz... I was never too clear on the technical details, as Josh did most of the work to get it set up, while we all financed it without asking questions... Well... most of us didn't ask questions... coulda, woulda, shoulda, didn't.

Anyways, We managed to secure a set of free 2-way tickets to some unheard-of country to essentially party without supervision courtessy of our parents... Things were great... We had everything planned and set-up...

Except we really weren't expecting zombies...

Ash took amoment to re-compose his thoughts, and continued, the shambling is replaced by the noise of wood splintering... He continued writing...

We heard rumurs of undead shortly after arriving, but since we didn't see anything, we didn't worry as much as we should have. True, we boarded up windows, but we didn't think anything was going to happen.

Then Locke got ambushed by a "hunter" while chopping wood... The hunter took a face-full of OO buckshot in return. Locke was torn-up pretty bad, but was alive, we treated him the best we could, but we eventually had to put him down.

Things since then weren't too good, Audrie ran off into the woods, we heard her screams for a week...

Then the first attack came upon the house, Clark was lost to us when a crawler snuck through a loose board in the kitchen pantry...

That day, it was decided to make an effort to escape through the quarantine, Josh and myself would operate a sort of "air-lock" to keep zombies out while Ed made a run for the truck. First, Josh never managed to close his door, and Ed was no Rambo... That left myself, and a handfull of girls with more charm than brains...

One of the zombies tricked some of the girls to try going out the back-door, so I can't use the kitchen anymore... the Carrie was the last to go, she turned into a demon, I had to put her down with a crowbar.

He stopped writing, looked at what he just wrote, and then threw it into the fireplace...

"Rubbish... I wonder if I can signal for an evac..."

He then made his way to the other corner of the room, a shortwave radio jury-rigged to some 12-volt batteries provided his only safe means of communicating with the outside world...

"Let's see, what frequency shall I try today?" he asked himself, as he glanced through a dirctory of radio-frequencies published over 30 years ago, a few of the numbers had been crossed out...

After getting things sorted, he tried to get attention on yet another frequency...*
He quickly keyed out the message with a deft and well practiced hand, as he had done many times before...

,.,., - ,.,. ,,., - ... ,,, ... - ... ,,, ... - ... ,,, ... - ,.,. ,,., ,.. - ,.,. ,,., ,.. - ,.,. ,,., ,.. - ,,, ,. . - ... .., .,. ..., .. ..., ,,, .,. - .,. . ,, ., .. ,. .. ,. ,,. - .,.,., - ,. . . ,.. - ,, . ,.. .. ,.,. ., .,.. - ., ,, ,, ,. - ,.,

He then paused, and repeated...

,.,. ,,., - ... ,,, ... - ... ,,, ... - ... ,,, ... - ,.,. ,,., ,.. - ,.,. ,,., ,.. - ,.,. ,,., ,.. - ,,, ,. . - ... .., .,. ..., .. ..., ,,, .,. - .,. . ,, ., .. ,. .. ,. ,,. - .,.,., - ,. . . ,.. - ,, . ,.. .. ,.,. ., .,.. - ., ,, ,, ,. - ,.,

OOC:
(using a shorthand morse-code, the dash/minus key is to represent 'word-spacing' [which is three times as long as the pause between characters and 3/2 as long as the pause between letters], the difference between a . and a , should be apparent, as should the use of "space")

If you'd like, I could convert it to quasi-bianary...
,.,., - ,.,. ,,., - ... ,,, ... - ... ,,, ... - ... ,,, ... - ,.,. ,,., ,.. - ,.,. ,,., ,.. - ,.,. ,,., ,.. - ,,, ,. . - ... .., .,. ..., .. ..., ,,, .,. - .,. . ,, ., .. ,. .. ,. ,,. - .,.,., - ,. . . ,.. - ,, . ,.. .. ,.,. ., .,.. - ., ,, ,, ,. - ,.,
1110101110101110000000111010111010001110111011101011100000001010100011101110111000101010000000101010 0011101110111000101010000000101010001110111011100010101000000011101011101000111011101011100011101010 0000001110101110100011101110101110001110101000000011101011101000111011101011100011101010000000111011 1011100011101000100000001010100010101110001011101000101010111000101000101010111000111011101110001011 1010000000101110100010001110111000101110101000111010001010001110100011101110100000001011101011101011 1000000011101000100010111010100000001110111000100011101010001010001110101110100010111000101110101000 00001011100011101110001110111000111010000000111010111
[msg start] [To all stations/CQ] SOS SOS SOS CQD CQD CQD ONE SURVIVOR REMAINING. NEED MEDICAL ATTN. [Request response]

That for each repitition... So which method you preffer?
BTW, running morse-code through ASCII will bork your computer...

Tom paused listening to his CVC "Major! Did you get that? It's morse! All stations... SOS... One survivor remaining... Need medical attention. We need to find that signal. Who ever is transmitting that has a massive antenna structure and we can definitely use a command and control asset like that!"

OOC: Dude were stuck in the chopper until Sallay comes back :( And HOLY CRAP! Superman post!

OOC: Dude were stuck in the chopper until Sallay comes back And HOLY CRAP! Superman post!
^easter egg
OOC:
Super?

Not my best work, and editing it is a pain b/c of the quinary morse-code at the end. Kinda give ppl an idea how "not-so-basic" it is to know morse nowdays...*

I feel it fails to capture the level of insanity my character ought to have...
...
More of that will be seen later...

*On one occassion, in order to trump multi-lingual posts on one of my intro-threads on an 'offsite', I posted purely in 'bianary'-morse Q-codes for a week... Drove people insane... Hilarity ensued when they made refferance to the event.

OOC: Gotcha, super by sheer volume! I really have no idea what to do at this point. Like I said earlier I hate it when your driver leaves :D

OOC: Gotcha, super by sheer volume! I really have no idea what to do at this point. Like I said earlier I hate it when your driver leaves :D
OOC: Sleep/work/play/eat/walk.
G'night, and you'll be not-so pleasantly surprised to find out how basic that radio is...

(Not the location, no but some people saw where your helicopter came from and then informed other humans. Its a chain reaction. lol. I'm the GM. I get to pick what happens :D. I'm trying to bring all the players together. Makes it funner. lol.)

OOC: Yeah, good point but with all those survivors heading for it, it's no longer "barely defended" given that now the survivors have found other people they are most likely going to fight to keep it that way = a clash of armies...one of which only the two body-guards and apparently that intelligent know about while Sallay is in the dark. lol.


Sallay had watched in silence as Tom the soldier had made both he and the second man harnesses to stay in the helicopter but still be able to stand by the door. Then he had listened in on Tom's plan while bringing the helicopter down lower and lower still. Then Sallay leveled his altitude at approximately 4-5 feet above the roof of the building. Then Sallay waited for them to open the door while he kept it level and listened to the message. He knew that morse code machines couldn't decipher vocal messages so he did the best thing he could: Sallay detatched his mouth-piece and...beat it on his knee a few times in morse code attempting to transmit something the machine could decipher. It wasn't going by practice or protocol but Sallay could still try and pray that the man on the other end got the message.

[msg start] [To transmitter] SOS RECIEVED. THIS IS BLUE SKY HELO. SITUATION REP. [msg end]


OOC: Also forgive me if I made some sort of grievous error with the response, unless it's a talking radio I'm sort of a noob as to it's capabilities and how detailed the messages can get.

OOC: Also forgive me if I made some sort of grievous error with the response, unless it's a talking radio I'm sort of a noob as to it's capabilities and how detailed the messages can get.
OOC: the transmitter is jury rigged from a portable AM radio, range would be actually pretty crappy due to lack of any carrier-wave if it weren't for Josh's help rigging up an antenna (spark-gap transmitter (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spark-gap_transmitter)) from scrap-metal and wire...

Likewise, his reciever works fine for vocal (Another AM-radio constant-reciever), Ash cannot really do any morse-code on the fly, and modern radio systems (like on your heli), due to a carrier-wave, makes deciphering morse code an epic pain in the ass unless the reciever has a filter for the CW.

Ash heard a series of pips and beeps coming back, they weren't his...
However, he did not have the time to decypher the code before it ended. (Your heli has the advantage of PSK31? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/PSK31))
,.,., - , ,.., - ... ,,, ... - .,. . ,.,. .. . ..., . ,.. - .,.,., - , .... .. ... - .. ... - ,... .,.. .., . - ... ,., ,.,, - .... . .,.. ,,, - .,.,., - ... .. , .., ., , .. ,,, ,. - .,. . .,,.- .,.,., -.,.,.
[msg start] [To transmitter] SOS RECIEVED. THIS IS BLUE SKY HELO. SITUATION REP. [msg end]

He scanned through the an encyclopedia and "cheat-sheet" for the morse code for his response...

..., ,.., - .,. .,,. , -- ... .. ,,. ,. ., .,.. - .,,. ... . - .,.,., -- .,.. .. ,... - .,.,.,--..., ,.., - ,.,. .,, - .,. ,.,. ..., .,. - .,.,.,-- ,,., ... ,.., - , ,.., - ..,,.. -- ,,., .,. ,., - ..,,..
Voice repeat signal please. Poor operator on station. Voice Continuous wave reciever. Shall I increase spark-gap frequency transmiter? How do you recieve me?
VX RPT SIGNAL PSE. LID. VX CW RCVR. QSX TX? QRK?
.,.,., = .
..,,.. = ?
Note, please look up Q-codes
Yes, english plaintext is there and available if you absolutely need it.
double-dash represents extra-long pause for Ash to look up the next phrase.

Stan lashed himself to the eyelet. "If only this thing had a machine-gun- this would be easier for me."

Sallay listened to the response and was pleased as his helicopter's radio system (given all the shiny little toys for the CEOs comfort) and responded as soon as he stuck his microphone in front of his mouth. While he did so he lowered the helicopter yet closer to the roof, four feet above the roof and scattering the green smoke away in thin, ground-hugging clouds.

"This is Blue Sky, I need a situation report: over." Sallay said, responding to the morse code.

OOC: Yeah, good point but with all those survivors heading for it, it's no longer "barely defended" given that now the survivors have found other people they are most likely going to fight to keep it that way = a clash of armies...one of which only the two body-guards and apparently that intelligent know about while Sallay is in the dark. lol.

(Good point. And I had been hoping for a clash of armies. It'll let Soldier Boy and Zombie Man test their tactical skills. And of course Sallay cause he's the only one with any air force. lol. Oh, and just so you know, if you try retreating from the city much further from your camp, you'll encounter the surrounding Government forces and be incinerated :D. lol. Oh, and once the battle commences, I will not be controlling anything. I'll concede both sides forces and it is up to them to decide what they do with them. Their movements, their conversations, their losses, etc. All I'll do is throw in a few twists here and there and try to keep the battle somewhat even. lol. So hurry it up. lol.)

((Are we going to be able to get some battlefield pickups like oh say a couple MK19's off of HMMV's or say a couple .50 cals? Maybe even a 203? Something heavy and nasty? I'll take a non-mobile Brad with a couple hundred rounds!))

"Stan, " Tom said pointing to the door "In, 3,2,1!" They slid the doors open and Tom vaulted to the ground in the swirling smoke. "I'm going to find that Infantry Company Commander. Major? I recommend a pull off for about 15 while I recon the area. I'll give you a single flare for wave off and egress, double flares for pick up, anything you need while I'm out? Milk, eggs?" Tom said into the CVC before taking it off and letting Stan reel it in. He gave a thumbs up to Stan before turning into the green swirling miasma before him.

Sallay slowly pulled the still open helicopter up and away down a street and for a large sky-scraper. He landed on it and had chosen the landing sight as the only way up was a trap-door which looked like it had been melted shut with a welder by whoever had used the heli-pad he just touched down on before him. Sallay grabbed some binoculars from under the co-pilots seat and look to Stan as he shut off the helicopter because it would burn fuel otherwise. Sallay moved to the edge of the roof and dropped to his belly while watching the green smoke from a good distance away.

"Major, come in!" Mason spoke quickly but firmly into the TacRadio mic. "Sorry for the delay, but we've had a little situation here." Now THAT was an understatement. Eriksson's fireteam had taken the roof, and three more had gone over to alleviate the crowding. Then, the horde found them. They had come crashing up the hotel stairs first, setting off grenade trips all the way up. The soldiers could hear them bashing in the barricaded doors, only to be annihilated by the frags just inside. By the time they were a floor down, the squad on the other roof was already in a battle against a smaller group of enemies. A Brute bashed through the roof door and was shredded by the claymores there. The Support Gunners, already held to alert, took out the ones following, alternating in shifts of three to keep up a steady fire supply. Mason wished he had been assigned a heavy weapons platoon for this op. The Marksmen and Sheehan's sniper teams began supporting the squad on the apartment complex, but by the time it was over, Eriksson and two Privates were the only ones left standing. "We are down to just three platoons approximate strength, and are holding out on the roof of a building in the Western Projects. We have a fireteam holding the roof of the apartments across the street, so don't fly in between the buildings-the piton cords will down your chopper. Come get us ASAP- we have wounded and need a base to refit in. Captain Rodney Mason, B Company, 3rd Battalion, Air Infantry Recon Division, over and out."

OOC: Sorry for the huge delays- what time is everyone on? I'm still interested in this thread, but I apparently am on when no one else is. What is a good time frame in PST for me to be on?

And speaking of heavy weapons/wars... GM? How creative can i get? Are we talking AT-4's and 105mm Howitzers or just M203's for every M8? Or a compromise- any real Company would be almost out of Claymores by now.

((Are we going to be able to get some battlefield pickups like oh say a couple MK19's off of HMM(W)V's or say a couple .50 cals? Maybe even a 203? Something heavy and nasty? I'll take a non-mobile Brad with a couple hundred rounds!))
Question, serviceman: Have you ever seen the military leave an armored vehicle behind/unattended/ungaurded if it was still even remotely useful/serviceable?

If there is anything left behind, chances are it's because it was either too heavy, trashed, or in such a bad location that it really isn't worth going after*.

*The last one means the previous crew didn't have enough time to either carry it out with them or scuttle their gear, suggesting they were overrun and died guns blazing**. And if that's the case, would a non-military folk with no training do any better?

**If they panicked, dropped their guns and ran, it would be a show of poor discipline, and is very largely discouraged among professional militaries to EVER leave weapons behind. So the only way to get a service-weapon is to wade through the undead horde, and pry them from their cold-(un)dead-hands...

IC:
"This is Blue Sky, I need a situation report: over." Sallay said, responding to the morse code.

Things were not going well for Ash, as there was someting of a 1 in 10 chance that a 'turned' would be either an intellegent or brute, and the fact that those where the fellas leading hordes around, chances were there was a few around.

And there was quite an assortment of implements they could use...
Such as Josh's snub-revolver (replacing BB-gun), and Ed's 20 ga Remmington 870... Not to mention the chainsaw in the toolshed...

And he could hear one of the zombies trying to start it... thankfully, the blasted thing was hard-start, and the intellegents weren't too well endowed with strength, meanwhile it would take time for the brutes to understand what they could do to help...

The shotgun on the other-hand, was another story... A number of holes were already in the wall, but thankfully they ran out of ammunition, with Ash sitting on most of the "stockpile" his band had accumilated...

He looked out a window, and noticed something horrifying... The truck was started, with a zombie at the wheel... Others had fashioned crude molotovs...

He quickly typed out from memory the first two words..
, .... . ,.., - .... ., ..., .
He was cut off when he heard a molotov crash through the window, setting one of the partritioned rooms on fire...

He hurriedly finished his transmission and attempted to put out the fire...
..,. .. .,. .

More molotovs came, Ash locked himself in with the radio, and kept repeating over and over
..,. .. .,. . - ..,. .. .,. . - ..,. .. .,. . - ..,. .. .,. . [repeating]

He then heard the truck crash into the cabin, eliminating the stronger exterior walls from the defenses, and letting the shamblers inside...

,,, .... - ... .... .. , - , .... . - , .,. .., .,., ,.,

He stopped broadcasting, there was little he could do now... He prepared for the worst as he heard the zombies try and dislodge the truck from the ruined section of cabin for another try at using it for a battering-ram...

*Note .,., (there is no such character in morse code) is supposed to be ,.,. ("c") but in his panic-state, and lack of time to consult a book, such a reversal is understandable...

OOC: Sorry for the huge delays- what time is everyone on? I'm still interested in this thread, but I apparently am on when no one else is. What is a good time frame in PST for me to be on?
This is a forum, not IRC, it really isn't exactly a good idea for everyone to post simultaniously.
It is not necessary, nor is it desirable.
IC Post-rate appears to be daily per participant in this RP

OOC: Wow, this place took off.

IC: Regina nodded. "Yeah, come'ere." She took up the medical supplies, and took up the wound, cleaning the infected are with disinfectant, she neatly stitched up the wound, and covered it with fresh white bandages. "That outta do it for now. Isn't there supposed to be others here?"

Mason saw a man striding towards him through the smoke. "Are you the Major? Where's your chopper?"

"No sir, I'm SSG. Khaine of the Telz Immortal Soldiery and I'm here to help. What's the situation, I assume you have wounded? Lets get them near the smoke and once we establish the perimeter we'll signal the bird back in." Tom said saluting in Telz formal tradition to a superior officer, even if he was from another country, he was a superior officer. "Sir I hate to ask, especially considering the situation but can I gear up from some of your wounded? I'm sure they would appreciate the load off."

Stan put the rifle to his shoulder, eye to the sights, and scanned around the heli. No signs of zombies... or any kind of life, either.

Sallay heard the morse code and responded as quickly as he could without dropping the binoculars. Sallay couldn't read fast enough given the fact that the sender hadn't sent the message enough times so Sallay simply watched the smoke, or what was was slowly dwindling away, that remained. Sallay responded based on the speed of the message and the fact that it had only been sent out once.

"Listen kid, you're probably in trouble but I'm occupied: I need you to make your way in to the city, head for the downtown area. I repeat, head to the downtown area of the city: it's barely got anymore zombies left from what I can see, you have to kid." Sallay urged.

"Sir, if you have snipers on the roofs I need to identify freindlies on that North East corner of that," Tom pointed the structure out to the commander. "Building, the chopper and a sharp shooter are up there. Waiting for our signal."

Michael sighed. "There should be. But seeing as how they're not and that no weapons or other equipment has been taken, I'm assuming they got hit too." He tested the bandages. "Not bad. Well, lets get moving." he said and picked up an AA-12 off a rack along with two drum magazines for it and another box of shells along with the specialized grenade rounds built for the weapon. "Get what you need and then lets see if we can get out of this god-forsaken hell hole"

"He's probably going to try and identify us, hold the binoculars for me kid and tell me what you see." Sallay said, handing the binoculars to Stan.

Then Sallay bolted for the helicopter and hopped in, his military boots thunking on the metal floor. He then tore open the survival kit and pulled out one of the flares that remained inside. He read the color: green. That meant it was all-clear in most armies (along with 'requesting evac') if Sallay remembered correctly. Sallay ran to the edge of the roof and picked up the binoculars again. He saw the snipers scanning in his general direction and thus pulled a chord on the butt of the flare. Green smoke and sparks came out of the end while Sallay held it high above his head so the soldiers could see if they had scopes trained on the roof.

"I see snipers on the roofs... and down there some birds, appear to be pigeons... not much else."

Michael sighed. "There should be. But seeing as how they're not and that no weapons or other equipment has been taken, I'm assuming they got hit too." He tested the bandages. "Not bad. Well, lets get moving." he said and picked up an AA-12 off a rack along with two drum magazines for it and another box of shells along with the specialized grenade rounds built for the weapon. "Get what you need and then lets see if we can get out of this god-forsaken hell hole"
((Huh? Did I miss something? Where the HELL did you get an AA-12? And where can I get one???))

(lol. You know about the AA-12s? They are the best zombie killing machine in existence. lol. And I got one in the underground bunker that character has access too. lol. And not right now, but I may decide to drop it in along with some 50 cals later one)

"Well sir, if you have the perimeter set I'll stay here and help keep it up while you get your wounded out of here. Leave me a radio if you don't mind, it's kind of rough for a guy who's used to having one and doesn't, know what I mean?" Tom said smiling cynically and clicking an invisable hand mic at his shoulder. Tom's career in the TIS had saw him through one campaign as a Forward Observer and he was never without a radio on his back, either calling in artillery or helping the Company XO on the ground coordinate forces onto an objective. Tom looked down, brief glimpses of past pain flashed before his minds eye before he snapped himself back to reality.

Regina looked up at the rack of guns around her, suitably impressed with the amount of firepower this little place contained. She grabbed an AA-12 shotgun off the wall, a small grin appearing across her face, handling it well, thanks to her training.

"Go where!?" She called, catching up with Mike.

Tom took stock and watched the three platoon medics triage the wounded. Three medics running low on supplies. The perimeter guards were the least of his concern everyone would be on high alert at that point and would almost fire at the flies buzzing around if they thought they were large enough to be a threat. (( I'll edit and retract this if Oscar objects in anyway what so ever, I'm just trying to move game play a little.)) With a nod from Cpt. Mason Tom moved to a soldier laying on a Talon2 stretcher. One of the platoon medics were bandaging what looked like a decent shrapnel wound. "Hows it hanging trooper?" Tom asked seeing the man was in pain and trying to destract him. "Not to bad sarn't, just laying around supervising." He said with a grimassing chuckle. "Looks like the doc will have you dancing in no time. They didn't get your nookius muscle did they?" Tom said looking serious for a moment at the wounded soldier. The medic exploded with laughter when the wounded soldiers face went pale. "He means your junk Davis." The medic said with barely contained mirth. The three soldiers laughed together sharing a rare moment of levity in an impossible situation. "Mind if I snag your mag vest? Looks like you wont be wanting all this extra weight cramping your style." Tom helped him with the vest, but insisted he keep the armor "You need it more than I do. Keep it, and here take this. If you're shooting we're all dead anyway." Tom handed the MP5K Major Sallay had given him and the two extra magazines which the soldier put in his usable cargo pocket. "Thanks sarn't, that 203 WAS a little heavy." Tom smiled cynically before slinging the weapon and checking operation and load. "Don't thank me Davis, thank your recruiter." He said striding back to Captain Mason to see about a MANPAC (radio).

"As I see it First, if the infection was pnuematic they would nuke it to burn the infection out and in all reality minimize casualties, because once it's airborne and it's stable it's all over. I'm talking no "insert coin to continue" game over man, game over.

Second, they would physically cordon the area and block or kill everything that came within 1K or what they perceived as minimum safe distance. In that instance we would find our best options. They absolutely would do anything to help us if we were in that situation. They might consider alternatives or derivatives to these plans but that would take extremely in depth intel and time to make up a plan [and trust me non of us want to go into that stuff]. Without knowing these variables these are the best two options I can present to the GM as the self proclaimed resident expert on military tactics. are our options. We need to rally fast. The chopper is going to have to make at least X trips. That's 4 wounded each trip with 2 security on board. We'll have to break down the perimeter as we go and canalize them into a funnel they can't get out of. If you want I can start working on that while you call the Major over. Hopefully there wont be any more surprises. The Major knows where there's a FOB, or base, or something. He fuels up there. I'll wait here until every man is gone. I don't have a family, and besides, I like shiny medals." Tom said with only a trace of a morbid smile.

Sallay heard the morse code and responded as quickly as he could without dropping the binoculars. Sallay couldn't read fast enough given the fact that the sender hadn't sent the message enough times so Sallay simply watched the smoke, or what was was slowly dwindling away, that remained. Sallay responded based on the speed of the message and the fact that it had only been sent out once.

"Listen kid, you're probably in trouble but I'm occupied: I need you to make your way in to the city, head for the downtown area. I repeat, head to the downtown area of the city: it's barely got anymore zombies left from what I can see, you have to kid." Sallay urged.

Hint: ..,. .. .,. . = "FIRE", so guess what "THEY HAVE [pause] FIRE [pause] FIRE FIRE FIRE FIRE" means... Followed by a very brief "OH SHIT. THE TRU*K".

Transmitted at a rate of merely 10 to 20 WPM, giving you 3-6 seconds to decypher each word (twice the time given to trained operators).

Oh, right, forgot the plaintext translation in OP...

IC:
After a long moment of silence, the radio crackled, there was more radio interfereance this time (antenna/radio damaged), but the message came in very slow and delibrate... (6 wpm)

, .,. .., ,.,. - ,,, ,. - ..,. .. .,. . - .,.,., - .... ,,, .., ... . - ,,, ,. - ..,. .. .,. . - .,.,., - , .,. ., .,,. .,,. . ,.. - .,.,.,
TRUCK ON FIRE. HOUSE ON FIRE. TRAPPED.

"Somewhere where we can contact those on the outside. While I was doing research into Zinium, I discovered what their toxic waste was made of but didn't have time to get it out before this all went to hell. I'm hoping that if I can get the cause out to the eggheads in the government, they can take care of a cure for us." Michael then looked out the front of the building where he had climbed up from the bunker below. "Looks clear for now. So, any ideas on where we can find a large enough radio tower to reach the capital? Because we were informed of one of the contingency plans and that included nuking the place or shooting anyone who tried to leave on sight. Seeing as how we're still here, I think the followed the second." He said to Regina.

"Probably won't stay clear for long." Regina noted, looking at the time. It was beginning to get dark, and that never meant anything good. "We should probably try to find some sort of broadcasting station, like a TV or Radio studio. They can broadcast to anywhere in the country."

Tom kept himself busy by assisting the medic and helping set up perimeter barricades, stting them as strong and as permanent as he could with the scarce materials on hand, and generally trying to keep the moral up.

OOC:
... picked up an AA-12 off a rack along with two drum magazines for it and another box of shells along with the specialized grenade rounds built for the weapon.

Frag-12's? That's just not fair. Can i get an AT-4 in here?

IC: "Here," said Mason to the Sergeant. "we've made it a policy to take the TacRadios and Rifles from the dead. I'll get one of our guys to confirm the signal now." Turning to face a Private, he said, "Private, take the green flare and signal to the northeast." As the Private hurried off, Mason turned back to face the Sergeant. "I don't know you and you don't really fit into our chain of command, but I'm glad to see you and work with you. We need to get the wounded out first and the guys on the fallback rooftop while we're in the clear. Also, have you noticed any heavy weapons or armor lying around? These attacks seem coordinated, and we haven't been able to retrieve any of our airdropped supplies. I sure would like some anti-armor, even it ends up getting used for AP."

"I didn't see any on the way here. My guess is anything like a Stryker or a Brad is going to be on the outer cordon and the HMMV's are going to be on the inside. We'll only be dealing with 240's, 50 cals and the occasional MK19 if they took the time to change the mounts and ammo bucket box. And that's on the very very rare chance that they were either killed or infected before they thermitted the whole thing. I wouldn't risk it. We can send units out later once we establish a base camp and get these guys some medical attention." Tom took the equipment gratefully and after a radio check went back to helping shore up the area. Tom counted on it being a long night.

"Alright, thanks. If you need anything more, just ask. Where is that chopper anyway?"

Tom finished making preparations to the barricades. They were as good as they were going to get. All the avenues were covered and the troops had a rest plan implemented. The snipers were kept in almost constant radio contact, and their assault team rotated with them. Tom was exhausted. The sprinting, and heart pounding stress was getting the better of him. He went to Cpt. Mason. "Hey sir, who's your second in command so he and I can swap for shifts tonight until we get everyone evaced?"

"That would be Lt. Anders, who should be with the Support Gunners covering the roof door. If he's unavailable, Lt. Sheehan is coordinating the snipers. My other four Lieutenants have all been killed, and I've been using Staff Sergeant Eriksson to lead third platoon. You sure you don't want something heavier than that MP5K? We have spare M8's, and if you don't like the configuration it's in, swap it out."

"If you have a good old M4/203 but really, I'll take whatever you can give me that's a little more potent... And if it's got a 203 on it I wont complain sir. I'll get with Lt. Anders and we'll rotate out."

"Don't know what i can do about that. On the bright side, the gun laws are pretty lax here. Maybe we can go looking for an M4 once we've established a base camp."

Tom took stock and watched the three platoon medics triage the wounded. Three medics running low on supplies. The perimeter guards were the least of his concern everyone would be on high alert at that point and would almost fire at the flies buzzing around if they thought they were large enough to be a threat. (( I'll edit and retract this if Oscar objects in anyway what so ever, I'm just trying to move game play a little.)) With a nod from Cpt. Mason Tom moved to a soldier laying on a Talon2 stretcher. One of the platoon medics were bandaging what looked like a decent shrapnel wound. "Hows it hanging trooper?" Tom asked seeing the man was in pain and trying to destract him. "Not to bad sarn't, just laying around supervising." He said with a grimassing chuckle. "Looks like the doc will have you dancing in no time. They didn't get your nookius muscle did they?" Tom said looking serious for a moment at the wounded soldier. The medic exploded with laughter when the wounded soldiers face went pale. "He means your junk Davis." The medic said with barely contained mirth. The three soldiers laughed together sharing a rare moment of levity in an impossible situation. "Mind if I snag your mag vest? Looks like you wont be wanting all this extra weight cramping your style." Tom helped him with the vest, but insisted he keep the armor "You need it more than I do. Keep it, and here take this. If you're shooting we're all dead anyway." Tom handed the MP5K Major Sallay had given him and the two extra magazines which the soldier put in his usable cargo pocket. "Thanks sarn't, that 203 WAS a little heavy." Tom smiled cynically before slinging the weapon and checking operation and load. "Don't thank me Davis, thank your recruiter." He said striding back to Captain Mason to see about a MANPAC (radio).

OOC: Deja vu.

(yeah I think he posted that once before. lol. and there are only about 20 of the frag-12s. lol. they won't last long.)

Michael nodded. "All right, the nearest is about 4 blocks from here. We should be able to make it before full dark." He said and started jogging down the street with his weapon at the ready.

... My bad :D
Tom tucked down and made himself comfortable. The LT was wired and would burn out in a few hours so Tom got what sleep he could.

Things were not going well for Ash, as there was someting of a 1 in 10 chance that a 'turned' would be either an intellegent or brute, and the fact that those where the fellas leading hordes around, chances were there was a few around.

And there was quite an assortment of implements they could use...
Such as Josh's snub-revolver (replacing BB-gun), and Ed's 20 ga Remmington 870... Not to mention the chainsaw in the toolshed...

And he could hear one of the zombies trying to start it... thankfully, the blasted thing was hard-start, and the intellegents weren't too well endowed with strength, meanwhile it would take time for the brutes to understand what they could do to help...

The shotgun on the other-hand, was another story... A number of holes were already in the wall, but thankfully they ran out of ammunition, with Ash sitting on most of the "stockpile" his band had accumilated...

He looked out a window, and noticed something horrifying... The truck was started, with a zombie at the wheel... Others had fashioned crude molotovs...

He quickly typed out from memory the first two words..
, .... . ,.., - .... ., ..., .
He was cut off when he heard a molotov crash through the window, setting one of the partritioned rooms on fire...

He hurriedly finished his transmission and attempted to put out the fire...
..,. .. .,. .

More molotovs came, Ash locked himself in with the radio, and kept repeating over and over
..,. .. .,. . - ..,. .. .,. . - ..,. .. .,. . - ..,. .. .,. . [repeating]

He then heard the truck crash into the cabin, eliminating the stronger exterior walls from the defenses, and letting the shamblers inside...

,,, .... - ... .... .. , - , .... . - , .,. .., .,., ,.,

He stopped broadcasting, there was little he could do now... He prepared for the worst as he heard the zombies try and dislodge the truck from the ruined section of cabin for another try at using it for a battering-ram...Sallay heard the morse code and responded as quickly as he could without dropping the binoculars. Sallay couldn't read fast enough given the fact that the sender hadn't sent the message enough times so Sallay simply watched the smoke, or what was was slowly dwindling away, that remained. Sallay responded based on the speed of the message and the fact that it had only been sent out once.

"Listen kid, you're probably in trouble but I'm occupied: I need you to make your way in to the city, head for the downtown area. I repeat, head to the downtown area of the city: it's barely got anymore zombies left from what I can see, you have to kid." Sallay urged.
IC:
After a long moment of silence, the radio crackled, there was more radio interfereance this time (antenna/radio damaged), but the message came in very slow and delibrate... (6 wpm)
, .,. .., ,.,. - ,,, ,. - ..,. .. .,. . - .,.,., - .... ,,, .., ... . - ,,, ,. - ..,. .. .,. . - .,.,., - , .,. ., .,,. .,,. . ,.. - .,.,.,
TRUCK ON FIRE. HOUSE ON FIRE. TRAPPED.
Things had gone from bad to worse...
First, there was no help on the way...
Second, his safehouse was a burning shambles... the addition of a truck loaded with fuel to the fire didn't help much, except to light some zombies on fire...
And lastly, he was outnumbered, outgunned, and wounded...

And right now, he was staring down a charging brute with a chainsaw...

"chainsaw... chainsaw... what can I use to defend myself with a chain-"

Noting a safety-chain (for trailers) on the wall, he parried the initial thrust, jamming the chainsaw and rending it mostly harmess is it soon stripped the blade, the surprised zombie now met his maker in the form of a tireiron through the eye-socket.

Next-up, a burning zombie armed with a presumably empty .38 special... Taking note, he stuffed a few rounds into his pocket, hoping to aquire the coveted hand-gun...

The zombie took aim... maybe it still had bullets... 'click' 'snap' 'click' *scrunch*

Another one falls, while attempting to pick-up the gun, Ash burns himself. He then decides to use a ragged piece of clothing from a zombie to protect his hands from the hot revolver, and make-best his escape...

But to where?
Escape doesn't seem to be much of an option, so the next priority is to aquire and use "moar dakka", which would involve rapidly cooling the burning-hot revolver...

He then saw a "bleeder", it wasn't water, but Ash hoped it would do as he stuffed the gun into its open chest-wound while hold its head back with his stub-arm, the smell of rotting and burning flesh accompanied by a sound similar to what happens when you pour cold water into a hot and dry saucepan...

Ash then took the bloody and smoking gun and pummeled the shambler relentlessly... Now he had to clean the chambers and barrel... pipe-cleaners!

Next came a brute with a kitchen knife and wearing a hockey mask... Aside from the knife and its dubious wrestling abilities, he was actually quite harmless, but then again, walking into a kitchen with "Jason" breathing down your neck and otherwise doing nothing is creepy...

"Here, have a chainsaw!"

The blunt yet heavy weapon knocked it off balance... The choice between chansaws and knives confused the poor soul-less creature. He opted to try and unwrap the chain from the blade... And was met with his own kitchen knife, through his skull...

Ash then wasted no time in clearing three chambers and the barrel, he'd clear the others later... Next came "load and fire"...

He made his way to the cabin's perforated loft, and from there, onto the roof.
His goal was to eliminate any "fast movers" such as brutes and super-zeds", and try and make a run for it through the crawlers before the cabin-fire killed him...

Meanwhile the rapidly degrading stability of the cabin would make it ever harder for the zombies to reach him until the point of critical structural failure.

The approaching darkness would make his escape quite perilous, but with luck, he may actually make it to the city...

Before leaving his roost, he made sure he had all chambers loaded, in case he ran into a "brute-mob", for all else, there was "crowbar"...

OOC: the radio is completely and utterly useless at this point.

(Where exactly is Ash? lol)

The LT woke Tom what seemed like seconds later. It had actually been five hours. He filled Tom in on what was happening...

(Where exactly is Ash? lol)
Isolated cabin on wooded outskirts of town, of course... Just about a mile away from the suburbs...

And if the zombie infestation headed away from the city, guess where that puts them in relation to him?

Yeah, he's boned... (http://cad-comic.com/comic.php?d=20081121) But on I charge... (http://historyofideas.org/etcbin/toccer-new2?id=SerRhym.xml&images=images/modeng&data=/texts/english/modeng/parsed&tag=public&part=42&division=div1)

So... if this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nbzyt79iSR0) is how bad it is with safehouses every 10 yards... imagine what it like when the nearest shelter is a quarter mile away and you're limping there...

I'm not sure how well he can score headshots with a "battlefield-pickup saturday night special" of the snub-nose catagory, but chances are it won't be terrific, plus one has to consider whether that bullet would do anything to the bigger zeds...

As for when I called a zombie a "hunter", think ninja-super-zombie that knew how to free-run and hide before it turned, and not only remembers how, but still can.

OOC:
So... if this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nbzyt79iSR0) is how bad it is with safehouses every 10 yards... imagine what it like when the nearest shelter is a quarter mile away and you're limping there...


OK, but by the way we've been playing, that would have been a horde of Super Zeds and a Brute, atypical/impossible for us. You have to deal mostly with slow, pathetic (think Resident Evil) normals. Still, it won't be easy...

IC:

Anders turned to face Tom. "Okay, sergeant, here's the SitRep. We've heard them moving around downstairs, but none have come up to the roof or the floor below; we've sent squads to explore. They've set traps, so we have some early warning. I sure hope that chopper is back by morning. We have secured another building's roof as a fallback point, but it will be slow going."

As ash hobbled to town, he was surprised to not see an insane amount of zombies everywhere. It seemed that most had gone into the city itself to look for a food source. Even so, there appeared to be an abandoned military supply truck left in a ditch to the side of the road Ash was walking on. It appeared to have been brutally attacked by a mob of things with teeth.

"Good to go LT. lets get the last of them loaded and we'll be back to base before the shamblers get up the steps. Pull the inner security back to support the dust off operations and getting the wounded and equipment to base. I'll manage the outer security and keep the boys jumping. You have about 3 minutes before the chopper gets back, lets get popping." Tom fumbled for a cigarette and lit it watching the LT go to work on bringing in the security personnel to assist in the evac. "You with the SAW, get back to your post, we can't leave any holes in the outer wall. I don't care what your LT said. You jump out and we're screwed!" Tom directed at a misguided soldier. He looked at his watch. The chopper should be audible in... There it was, he could hear the distinct sound of the rotors on the wind. "First in, last out." He muttered to himself and began his PCC/PCI's before going to the small hunched entry that allowed access to the roof.

Tom carefully made his way down the stairs checking and rechecking the claymores as he went. Someone had rigged a grenade bouquet and Tom ducked under it. It would do copious amounts of damage in a wide swath at head level. These guys had good ideas. He picked his way toward the scouts. A group of them were barricaded behind a thick desk, probably mahogany. "You boys doing alright?" He asked as he approached. They nodded keeping an eye down the stairwell they had blockaded. "Hawkins, you're relieved. Get up top and help with the evac, I'll take your spot here. You too Boodrow." The two troopers nodded and hurriedly picked their way back through the deadly walk up to the roof. "Well Haney, just you and me. You good on water and food?" Tom asked seating himself next to the trooper. "Yeah, but I could use a cigarette if you got one, smoked all mine last night." Tom dug for his pack and popped one up to the trooper. He took it eagerly and lit it with his own lighter. "Now we just wait for everyone else to leave." Tom said sighing and exhaling a large cloud of blue smoke.


((:D Wait'in on you guys :D))

It appeared to have been brutally attacked by a mob of things with teeth.

Easily the best kind of things. Especially when they form mobs.

IC:

Mason saw the chopper coming in, and had one of his nearby troops signal it with some of their last green flares. They were almost in the clear... for a while, at least. It would be good for the men to be able to rest and not have to worry about holding their position constantly. Mason shouted through the rotor blast: "Get the wounded on board first; their are plenty of seats for everyone!" As if his soldiers needed reminding. They were professionals. Lt. Anders strode up, walking against the downdraft and squinting into the morning sun. "I guess we're good for a while, sir," he said slowly. "but I can't shake the feeling that something massive is about to go down." The Captain turned to his XO. The way he had performed here, Anders deserved a promotion, and with that, a company of his own. It was too bad Mason would lose such a competent Lieutenant in the process. "Just think about really getting a full sleep, Anders. We don't have to be on alert for at least a few hours, I hope." But though Mason's words bespoke confidence, he now had an uneasy feeling as well...

OOC: If you could give me a plan of the fort or whatever our evac site is, I would hugely appreciate it. Plus a little time before the attack for some scavenging. I think North Calaveras' zombie horde will have the upper hand on three platoons of fatigued paratroops with nothing heavier than Claymores, a helo pilot, Tom, and three civilians, even when two are armed with Auto-12's.

You have to deal mostly with slow, pathetic (think Resident Evil) normals. Still, it won't be easy... He only has one hand! How is he gonna reload a six-gun one-handed?

As ash hobbled to town, he was surprised to not see an insane amount of zombies everywhere. It seemed that most had gone into the city itself to look for a food source. Even so, there appeared to be an abandoned military supply truck left in a ditch to the side of the road Ash was walking on. It appeared to have been brutally attacked by a mob of things with teeth.
Ash saw a light... but he dared not run for it...

Ash aproached the truck carefully, in the growing dark, he became ever more vulnerable to a sneak attack, the truck's high-beams weren't improving his night-vision any either. And considering the intelegence they displayed taking down his safehouse, he equally assumed a similar "hive mind" had managed to best the truck.

This could be a trap, however, he was certain he didn't have much chance no matter what he did at this point...

As he krept up closer, he noticed the mob had overturned it... He could have really used a truck to get into te city, but he expected the zombies to be either employing the vehicles for themselves -such a sback at the cabin- or making it so that humans couldn't use them without exposing a large number of themselves at great risk...

He had just walked within 100 yards of a trap, most likely there was a horde monitoring this truck in th vicinity, stealth would be the key to his survival...

The countryside was oddly quiet... nothing, no moaning zombies either, the sneaky SOBs...

Creeping in low, he examined the contents, nothing inside was really light enough for him to use on his own, let alone carry, and sure enough, he saw movement inside... the former driver... Guys must've panicked and tried to flee... He didn't bother to see what was left of the squad in the back...

Ash slowly backed off and continued on his way, expecting to see a lot more of this the closer he came to the ruined city... He came across an M16*, possably dropped or spilled when the mob snatched onto the truck...

He checked the magazine, twas nearly empty... still, the lighter recoil and longer range may prove useful -he also may find more ammo- also seen was a dumped radio, cracked and broken; he took it anyways, maybe he could get it to work and contact "Blue" again for a pickup... maybe... too bad he wasn't an electrician...

As night wore on, he'd have to struggle to stay alert, silent zombies trying to lul him into complaciency, that's when they get you... gotta keep moving, gotta stay quiet, must not scream...

What's that smell?

Ahead of him, lay the burning city, choked in smoke, thick with the smell of rotting and burning flesh...

*Gerneric assualt rifle, M8, M4, M16, no difference to me, tey all shoot the same cartridge, just with different barrel lengths... and unless I specify the mod, they generally have the exact same features/handling*...

*That was a main selling-point for the M-4 "PDW/carbine", and one of the required features of the XM8.

(the camp design is up to Ursava unless he wants me to design it and there are considerably more survivors with scavenged weapons at the camp now. They have been making their way there all night. lol. i'd say a good 3 dozen or so if that sounds reasonable. And add in this:)

Sallay's radio crackled to life Sallay, come in. Its us back at the camp. We got survivors making they're way here with whatever they got and you won't believe it but a Mt. Id chopper squadron just flew overhead and dropped food and weapons down to us. We got enough assault rifles for everyone and enough ammunition to last a week of constant fighting! Not to mention enough battle rations for us to hold on for a month or so. The voice paused and then continued. They also brought hope. They dropped pamphlets informing us that they are doing everything in their power to get us all out alive. So far they don't have much, but they have a start. What they really need is the cause of all this and that they can't get without risking more people. He paused one more time. They also said that if anyone got within a mile of the military cordon, snipers would take them out. No questions asked.

Tom listened in on the conversation through his TACCOM ((I know that could never actually happen, totally different radios)) "Well Haney, looks like we're not so alone anymore." Tom said. Haney nodded and stood to stretch. "Well sergeant Khaine, looks like all we need to do is kick back and smoke the last of you're cigarettes." The young man said with a wide grin. Tom smirked, Cocky kid, Tom popped another cigarette up and offered it to the kid. Tom and Haney smoked and listened to the sound of the evac underway above. The sound of shouting voices and the thunder of thick boots almost drowned out the sound of shuffling footsteps coming up the corridor. Tom whirled to see almost a dozen NoRmals hustling their way. "Well Haney, we need to get them as much time as we can. Don't open up till you get a clear shot, take head shots if you can make them." Tom said, Haney bobbed his head in acknowledgment and fired his first head shot. Tom jumped in right beside him firing a steady roll of shots. Breath, squeeze, bang, repeat. Count back from 30 to 1, change magazine. The calm process kept Tom from loosing his mind at what he was doing. It soon became more than evident that the number far surpassed a dozen of the on coming rotten dead. "Anders! Khaine, get a move on! We got company!"

((May I join?))

((Jump in just go to the first page and put your character bio in there, we'll find a place for you.))

(Sure thing. Check the OOC for any info you need.)

Tom tapped Haney as they picked their way through the minefield back up to the roof top. Haney fired a final burst at the open doorway that the wretched zombies were shuffling through. Haney fired a final burst as he and Tom closed the door to the stairwell up to the roof top. Tom turned, just as Haney had turned only a moment before and sprinted up the stairs. The rippling explosions of the minefield boomed behind the heavy steel door. On the third step the door shattered, exploding in a splintering rain of metal shards and debris. Tom caught a piece of smoldering shrapnel in his lower calf and stumbled. The blast had been powerful enough to knock the zombies back a dozen or so feet, giving Tom the led he needed to stand and hobble up the last eight stairs. Haney was hooking himself in using his minion(?) issued harness to support his weight as he leaned out of the door of the chopper. He waved Tom over as he leveled his SAW at the opening. Tom 'ran' as fast as he could to the chopper skid, waving the pilot up as grabbed the inside panel, just as he did Haney opened up with a long burst from his SAW. Tom flopped to the floor of the chopper touching Sallay on the shoulder to let him know he was on board so the pilot wouldn't have to take his eyes off his instruments and his flying. Haney was already prepping three grenades as they began to lift away from the already swarming zombies. Haney said something in audible in the roar of the open door as he dropped the three balls of high explosives into the center of the now pooling zombies. The concussive blasts knocked rings of zombies to the ground like dominoes. Tom smiled as he noticed most didn't get up again.

They landed on the helipad at the base a short time later. Tom hopped down from the passenger compartment. Tom and Haney were the last two survivors in the building, now Sallay could get some well deserved rest if he chose to do so. Tom followed a civilian to a cot and sat down on it. The civilian went and got one of the medics and a civilian doctor to see him they pulled the 4 inch piece of shrapnel out of his calf, stitched it up and gave him pain killers to ease the swelling and discomfort. The cot was welcoming and there was a plush sleeping bag and pillow already laid out on it.

Searching the pockets of the magazine vest he had gotten from the wounded soldier he found the cleaning kit, and disassembled the M8 and cleaned it before taking his gear and boots off and slipping quickly into sleep. He marveled at how easily he fell back into the same routine he followed in the Polt's campaign, it was his last thought as he finally drifted off to sleep.

(All right North, show time. If everybody wouldn't mind posting in here that they're still active, we can really get this show on the road)

He only has one hand! How is he gonna reload a six-gun one-handed?

Very Carefully.

I'm in, still active and ready to go. If I understand this right, we have at the base about 110 people with military training (the soldiers, Sallay, Tom, and Regina) about 39 civilians (three dozen + guy with Regina + Stan + Ash) with scavenged weapons ranging from probably pathetic (Kahr P5's?) to godly and rarer than conservatives in California (Auto-12's) plus a chopper-squadron load of Assault Rifles (heavy weapons?) and no vehicles other than a Bell 412 and maybe some cars. We can jury-rig the 412 as a medevac/light gunship but any firearm wielding zeds who score a lucky hit on the hydraulics or engine will bring it down with a high enough caliber, and based on what has been found in the city I'm guessing there will be weapons. All this, around 150 people, only around a third of whom have relevant training and aren't wounded, in an enclosed location, versus an intelligently guided zombie horde of indeterminate but large size including Brutes and Intelligents (presumably no Supers, or they would have usurped Kash) and not a lot of time or distance separating our arrival from the attack. These are the times that make men wish they had TacNukes...(or at least a few working armored vehicles)

Sounds like fun. Let's go!

((I am of course still in.))

Very Carefully.

I'm in, still active and ready to go. If I understand this right, we have at the base about 110 people with military training (the soldiers, Sallay, Tom, and Regina) about 39 civilians (three dozen + guy with Regina + Stan + Ash) with scavenged weapons ranging from probably pathetic (Kahr P5's?) to godly and rarer than conservatives in California (Auto-12's) plus a chopper-squadron load of Assault Rifles (heavy weapons?) and no vehicles other than a Bell 412 and maybe some cars. We can jury-rig the 412 as a medevac/light gunship but any firearm wielding zeds who score a lucky hit on the hydraulics or engine will bring it down with a high enough caliber, and based on what has been found in the city I'm guessing there will be weapons. All this, around 150 people, only around a third of whom have relevant training and aren't wounded, in an enclosed location, versus an intelligently guided zombie horde of indeterminate but large size including Brutes and Intelligents (presumably no Supers, or they would have usurped Kash) and not a lot of time or distance separating our arrival from the attack. These are the times that make men wish they had TacNukes...(or at least a few working armored vehicles)

Sounds like fun. Let's go!
Oscar Wildes Minions

Mt Id and I worked on a summary. This is going to be a big post bare with me!

A full Infantry Company for the purposes of this role play will consist of no more as follows:
• 130 Total Soldiers of varying Specialties and training within the limits of a common Light Infantry company, to include but not be limited to such types of training and specialization: Airborne, Air Assault, “Ranger”, Forward Observer (A Forward Observer/FO may double as an RTO/Radio Telephone Operator but an RTO may NOT double as a Forward Observer), Path Finder, HALO, SCUBA, or a specialty that is nation specific and is submitted prior to the statement of the Company in the open Role Play Forum.
• Typical Composition of an Infantry Company consists of:
• 48 Soldiers of Head Quarters Platoon.
• 82 Soldiers Divided into 4 Platoons, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th.
o For Nations that have a robust military the total number is doubled from 130 to 260. This is verified by your Nation’s military spending in your Economy Tab of Nation States 2. An indication of 30% spending or greater is a robust military.
• Single Platoons (Not to include Head Quarters) are broken down as follows:
o 1x Platoon Leader (O1 or O2)
o 1x Platoon Sgt. (E7 or E6)
 1x RTO/FO (E5-E4)
o 4x LMG or HMG (Light Machine Gun/ Heavy Machine Gun a.k.a. SAW or Squad Automatic Weapon)
o 4x Grenadiers
o 2x AT4 (E5)
o 8x Standard Issue Rifle (E4-E0)
• Head Quarters Platoon:
o 1x Company Commander/CO (O3)
o 1x Company Executive Officer/XO (02)
o 1x Company 1SG. (E8)
o 2x Platoon Sgt. (E7 or E6)
 1x Fire Support Officer (O3-O1)
 1x Fire Support NCO (E6-E5)
 2x Fire Support Specialist (E4)
 2x FO/RTO (E4-E0)
o 1x Sniper Section Leader (E7 or E6)
o 6x Snipers and Spotters. (E6-E0)
o 15x Assault/Storm Troopers/Elites (E6-E0)
o 15x Medics
This break down is a rough outline of the organization by specific duty or weapon, by platoon. The equipment used by each Nation may vary. Buy may not be more powerful than standard NATO sanctioned weapons (U.S. M16, Russian AK47, etc.) and armament agreed upon by the United Nations during the Hague and Geneva Conventions.

I'll let you pick the wounded, just keep in mind you said you had 3/4 of a Company. That's one platoon down, but casualties can be spread to different platoons [smith broke a leg from 3rd, and jenkins got crotch rott from 2nd, etc.]

As for the civilians based on a cordoned area of infection at level four non-aerosol based chemical/virus there will be few survivors because of the density of the area and it being a "vacation" area... *breath!* We're looking at about 200 civilians of varying professions. In that group there would be the most physically fit and intelligent to escape the hordes. This is based on a population of 4500-5000 possibly more. If you want look at the National average of your country or another country and see what kind of ratio of experience you would have in a civilian group of 200.

I don't quite follow, can you explain this to me in more detail?

And I'll join, can I have a unit of about 17 or 18 from my nations military on a scouting mission to see what was going on in this nation?

(Yes to the unit. Now for the explanation: Basically all Telz did was set up what a "standard" company of soldiers would be so that we can't have someone's company suddenly have over 10,000 troops or something. And what he did was break it down to cover the NonCom positions in the company. That was a...a little more detail then necessary but the facts are there. And so by going with that number, we would have around 98 soldiers from OWM, some excess military personal Michael, Regina, Tom, and Sallay so about 102 trained forces. Then we have the 200 civilians that Telz said we'd have all with an odd assortment of weaponry they picked up on their way. I said 3 dozen earlier because I was allowing for time. Since then more have joined the camp bringing up the numbers to a bit more. And the government airdropped in enough food and weapons to supply the survivors for a while.)

Willie woke up from his slumber, he didn't know how long it had been. He checked his digital watch, 0417. Shit he thought, he knew he was short on time to help out his unit. They had been sent to this country to A. Scout the area to see the situation and report back, and B. To terminate any deemed threats he encountered.

It had been a few days since he had seen the sunlight that heated the world. Him and his unit encountered basics, brutes, and inteligents without trouble, but once they encountered the Super Z's, they were driven into the same super market they were in now. He had been bitten in two spots, his left pinky was missing, and a chunk of his left hand were missing now. He had bled perfousley and knew that he was infected and only had until his stimpacks ran out.

"Men, we must get out of here, status on how many healthy Johnson?" he said.
"Sir, we have twelve injured, and ten of which cannot go anywhere right now. replied the private.
"Shit, we need to get out of here, the truck is not too far away, if I can get all seven of you who are healthy to come with me, we will get help and come back for those of who aren't so healthy. I swear by all that is good and gracious that I will save all of you, trust me, I will.

He stood up and assisted the other healthy soldiers to their feet, got their weapons ready, and stood in front of the door to outside, preparing themselves for anything to come...

As Willie and his men peeked out the door they saw basics shambling about but no large groups. The basics seemed to sense something and most of them went off to the west as fast as they could.

"The f*** they goin' at?" asked a more "motivated" soldier.
"I don't know" replied Willie, "They seem to be attracted to something. Let's move while we have time" And with that Willie and what was left of his unit began the short stride to the truck.

OOC: Feel free to RP my unit as well, and I'll add onto it, I'm a little rusty cause I haven't really RPed in a while, so bear with me lol.

(lol. no worries m8.)

As Willie and his troops approached their truck, something seemed amiss. Nothing seemed wrong with the truck, and in fact it looked like it hadn't been touched. With a horde of zombies around one would think they would capitalize on a still working vehicle.

But Willie didn't really think anything of it, he was too concerned about getting out of this god forsaken city. Him and his fellow soldiers loaded in, and started the car. He missed the outside world, and hoped that once this blew through, if it ever did, he would be able to visit this nation and enjoy the beauty it most likely had.

"Men lock and load, prepare for a shit load of zombies soon. Although I don't advocate for this usually, we need to go to the source from where the zombies are headed. There is most likely some source of life that way. Let's go."

he would be able to visit this nation and enjoy the beauty it most likely had.
(If ya like mountains, Mt id is the place for ya. lol.)

As Willie started the car, a signal was sent to the incendiary granade under the vehicle planted on the front axle by an Intelligent. The grenade burst and melted through the axle like it wasn't even there. The truck plunged forward as the weight in the front lost its support, leaving the vehicle with its rear up and nose down. From the buildings around, things could be heard stirring.

"Oh f***!, what the f*** was that!?!?!?" yelled Willie to any survivors.

All he could hear were the moans of pain made by the survivors of the grenade.

"F***ing inteligents! I shouldn't have been so naive to forget about them...any one who's still functioning, answer now! said Willie.

"Here, h-ere, here, h-h-er" said the four voices.

With only 4 including him left alive, or responsive, he had to get back inside the super market.

"Gotta..get back in-inside... he said with the little energy he had left, before passing out.

A Super Zed walked out of a building and looked at the disabled truck. He could smell the dead and wounded and so could his forces. They were frantic. He couldn't let them take these though. He had a plan for them. "Head back to the market with the Basics and some other forces. The ones you find there are all yours" He said to an Intelligent and it sprinted off with a large mob towards the market where soon screams could be heard. The Super Zed then motioned towards another nearby intelligent who tossed in a gas canister which started spewing out red smoke which set the other soldiers to coughing before they passed out. The zombies were unaffected by the knockout gas so some Brutes walked in and dragged the humans into a building the Super Zed was using as a Head Quarters and waited for them to start waking up. Once they did, the Super Zed leaned down and grinned evilly at Willie. "Hey there sleepy head"

"Holy shit!!! What the...who the fu...where...where am I?"

The Zed just laughed. "You're mine now, bud. I have a special job for you. There are some pesky survivors setting up camp outside the city that are making life troublesome for the rest of us. We can't get to them and more and more of our food supply is going there. We need someone who won't get shot on sight to go out there and get us a way inside. Guess who's the lucky one?"

Willie looked at the big ugly thing and spat in its face.

"And why the f*** should I do this?" asked Willie with a brave tone.

The Zed wiped the spit from his face and reached over to one of Willie's comrades. "Because my friend..." he said and twisted the mans wounded leg making him scream out in pain, "If you don't I will dismember each and every one of your living comrades until you agree to go. And if you try to betray US, they will all end up lunch meat. Capisce?"
(crud, storm coming through. bbl hopefully)

((Hurry bac.))

(check edit)

"You lay a hand on any of them, and I'll get outta here and f*** you up! I mean it man, try it, just try it!" Willie spat again into the brutes mouth this time.

"Don't taste so good do it?" Willie said before getting ready for a punch in the face.

The Zed just laughed and with seemingly no effort at all ripped the man's leg off. The soldier screamed and writhed around. The zed tossed the dismembered leg to his horde where they quickly devoured it. "Well, Soldier Boy, how many men more men are you willing to sacrifice?" The zed asked. "My troops don't mind eating straight off a living person. They'll just eat the body part off. What should be next...maybe the arm? Start with the fingers and work the way up. Rather painful, wouldn't you think?"

"Fuck you! Now I ain't doin' shit for you! You just blew it! You can suck a dick..

Willie struggled to get out of his bindings, and he failed misserably.

Willies soldiers looked at him with fear. He'd sacrifice them all? Just then something came crashing through the back of the building, scattering zombies in all directions. It was a leviathon of a creature and it just barely fit in the room. It came charging at the soldiers and grabbed the legless one and quickly began devouring it. In its haste however it had freed Willie and his soldiers and knocked the capturing zeds out of the way.

Even so, there appeared to be an abandoned military supply truck left in a ditch to the side of the road Ash was walking on. It appeared to have been brutally attacked by a mob of things with teeth.
Ash aproached the truck carefully, in the growing dark, he became ever more vulnerable to a sneak attack, the truck's high-beams weren't improving his night-vision any either. And considering the intelegence they displayed taking down his safehouse, he equally assumed a similar "hive mind" had managed to best the truck.

This could be a trap, however, he was certain he didn't have much chance no matter what he did at this point...

As he krept up closer, he noticed the mob had overturned it... He could have really used a truck to get into te city, but he expected the zombies to be either employing the vehicles for themselves -such a sback at the cabin- or making it so that humans couldn't use them without exposing a large number of themselves at great risk...
(If ya like mountains, Mt id is the place for ya. lol.)

As Willie started the car, a signal was sent to the incendiary granade under the vehicle planted on the front axle by an Intelligent. The grenade burst and melted through the axle like it wasn't even there. The truck plunged forward as the weight in the front lost its support, leaving the vehicle with its rear up and nose down. From the buildings around, things could be heard stirring.

I should stop giving the zombies ideas...

IC:
Ash made his way into an expansive south-lawn (teh suburban uppers can't call it a back-yard), of an extremely well barricaded home, save for a small hole on the second floor and both doors ajar...

Closing these doors would just cause a curious zombie to scratch and moan at it, drawing more to investigate. No... he'd instead pick one room, and close that up, and make sure no zombie would look inside.

First, as he entered, he noted some fallen zombies, the previous occupants had set traps and put-up a fight... Now, he had a choice, see if anyone else is inside, or sneak in and hope not to see anything?

He thought for a moment, as he snook a few glimpses into nearby rooms, and then decided...

"Hello? Is anybody there?"
He paused, and decided not to use such a cliche' (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cMcbjDmchwA)
"Hello? Anybody here?"

He then took a position, seated, with his back to a wall, anything coming towards him would either have to be seen coming, or somehow manage to punch-through walls... He drew his gun...

Without looking too carefully at this, your summary appears to be a blow-by-blow for a U.S. Marine Company. Maybe I'm wrong, some parts seem incongruous (like the profligacy of snipers). While I have no grief for the Marines and admire them greatly, for my nation, I had planned on an organizational capacity of 180 per company, broken up by approx. 36 per platoon and five platoons. This, with air assault, is to make up for the lack of an embedded weapons platoon, the rational behind this being that heavy weapons are too heavy to jump with, so, in an effort to supply them, the heavy weapons would be dropped in cargo pods and the paratroops would be expected to retrieve them. However, dropped weapons retrieval doesn't always go so well (invasion of Crete had German paratroops engaging riflemen with pistols due to having their rifles separate-dropped), so the decision was taken to use a lightweight main weapon (M8's) and add an extra platoon per company. Now, if you want to limit me to the original limit, that's fine, I never specified how many men I had. I just wanted to explain where my numbers were coming from.

Now obviously I'm not going to yell "Surprise!" and have a 10,000 troop company. That's like a small division. That's ridiculous. I think the number of 180 has some logic behind it. For a standard infantry company with an embedded weapons platoon, the four platoons is more realistic, but these are paratroops (how else did they get by the military cordon? I don't think HALO jumps work well on cities ;) )

Mt Id and I worked on a summary. This is going to be a big post bare with me!

Without looking too carefully at this, your summary appears to be a blow-by-blow for a U.S. Marine Company. Maybe I'm wrong, some parts seem incongruous (like the profligacy of snipers).
OOC belongs in OOC. Just a reminder.
Marines leiky der 'sniperz'.

Select Multi-quote, then 'reply' in OOC, there'll be a button allowing you to paste the quote there.

how else did they get by the military cordon? I don't think HALO jumps work well on cities
HALO and/or HAHO is for pathfinders, and is very ill-suited for mass-drops.

More idealistic is that they drove-in on trucks...

Is there still, time to join? I have just finished reading through the forum, really good stuff.

"Damn, we gotta go! Go, go, go!" yelled Willie in all the chaos.

They ran out of the building, hoping none of the zombies saw them when Willie fell to the ground.

"Sir you okay?" asked a Private.

"I think Idid something to my leg, I can't get up.." he moaned, in excruciating pain.

Two of the soldiers picked him up and went as fast as they could down the road. They were defenseless against any z threats, and needed to hurry to find life.

(feel free to join Fire. Plenty of room left. lol. There really isn't a limit on people and new situations pop up everywhere. lol.)

Tom woke on his own. He rolled sleepily out of bed and strapped his boots on, he was formulating a plan in his head. First thing was first, coffee and a cigarette, then he would set to getting the civilians ready for an all out assault on their position. Tom knew from the scientific research he had done watching every zombie movie on late night TV, that the zombies would undoubtedly find them as they were the only source of food. The site seemed to be in a relatively inactive area. One or two shots a day was common but nothing more than that. Tom smoked and drank his coffee surveying the area around him. Captain Mason's boys had already got a good jump on things, it just needed some "polishing". But what needed to happen more was training the civilians to use the weapons they had, and that would require shooting, and that of course would draw attention. Tom thought on it looking around for an area that was easy to clear and keep secure but would also muffle gun shots...

Gathering the citizens that had either no desire to use a gun, due to political, religious or other reasons their own. There were only about ten or so and Tom found them more than happy to continue tending to the wounded and cleaning or constructing. There was a small disruption at the ten who chose not to train with those who chose to. Tom quelled the dispute and pointed out that not everyone had to shoot to contribute. He took his 'class' to an over turned semi trailer and flung the doors open. "Class is in session!" There were targets at the far end spray painted on the steel. After a brief class on basic marksmanship and a rifle tour he let them to their target practice. A private from the OWM was over seeing the process and would help them with anything they needed. Now back to the barricade building.

Tom had found a functional SUV and was pushing cars into blocking positions around a three story corner market/ apartment complex. This would be the final stand. The apartment complex was isolated and open and provided 360 degrees of vision on a sloping hill. A construction site to the south a few blocks provided all the building material needed, and with everyone who wasn't on guard or wounded helping to scout and scavenge materials the apartment complex was quickly becoming a fortified bastion. Tom had Sallay put the chopper on the roof when it wasn't flying missions to drop off and retrieve scouts from various areas in the city. They had brought back the medical supplies needed to stabilize the wounded and pharmacy in the store provided all the necessary drugs for medication, and Tom was thankful, coffee and cigarettes. The building to the East was some strange architectural piece of artistry. The building was built as if it was growing out of one of the many hills of Mt. Id and was shaped like a lower case "r" with the horizontal piece almost directly over the new head quarters. Tom guessed the distance up to be at least ten stories. Then an idea occurred to him. Going over to Captain Mason he began discussing the plan in depth.

Character info:
Name: Mark Wallace
Age: 17
Job: Drifter
Weapons: None uses improvised weapons.
Summery: Mark is of an average build Caucasian, has brown hair and slight achene. He started life in a angry house hold, parents splitting up when he was elven, he was sent to a military academy for another five years, aceing his finals. when he was seventeen he left for collage but decide it wasn't for him and dropped out three months later, mush to the teachers relief. He was known for spending entire days watching horror movies. Now, as zombies start to overrun his apartment building, he has a the cold comfort of knowing that all those horror movies actually helped.

Wallace and the others had just managed to reach the church before the other residents locked the doors. Many other apartment blocks had complained in recent months that there wasn't enough spirituality in the complex so they built the church on top of the block. Well, if they were designing a fort against the undead then they did well, but talk about tacky. At that moment a group of puffed up men started to walk towards mark and his group.

'Did you get? they all blurted out at once.

'We got some of it, but there isn't enough any more,' said Clair as she handed over a backpack half full of food. Clair was the leader of Mark's group.

'This isn't enough we'll starve if you don't bring us more.' one responded.

'Well, there is no way were going back out there again. We barely got back this time.' Said Tony. He was the strongest guy Mark had ever seen, he had even once picked up a basic and used it as a club. 'They seem to be organized, it was like a trap, never seen that before.'

'This all superstitious non sense, you got scared and ran. Thats all there is no such thing as a smart zombie.' Said the Jedidiah the blocks, priest.

'Before three days ago, there was no such thing as a zombie.' Retorted Mark.

'Do not use false logic to deny the truth. Now everyone, come to the center of the alter so we may pray for salvation.' Jedidiah said, whist walking the alter. The rest of the people following him.

As he started reciting the words from his book, Mark and the rest of his group started to discuss the recent events. 'F***ing nut jobs.' Said tony.

'At least we have a place to stay.' said Mark.

'Not for long we do.' replied Clair.

'What do you mean?'

'For f*** sake Mark get a grip on the situation. These people were only going to let us stay if we could get them food. They were miserably with the stuff we gave them in the first place, do you really think we're going to be here long if we start only bringing them half of what they got originally.' replied Tony.

'If they throw us out we'd be killed, by what ever thats out there.' said Clair.

'So are options are death, or death.'

'Thats about it in a nut shell'.

'Did you see that weird one out there?'

'Mark, their all weird.'

'No, not that there was this weird one, kept looking at me.'

'What do you mean looking at you?'

'He wasn't like the others, he just stood there as the Basics chased us, watching.'

'It was probably just a very dumb basic, trying to decide weather or no to eat you.'

'Maybe. But I'll tell you one thing we better start looking for a way out of here, aside from the stairs, because I am not going out there again.'

Mason surveyed the progress being made in the impromptu fort. Now that all the civilians had ben attended to, he could focus on how to fight the battle. the steady sound of rifles from the semi was an encouraging sound, although the civilians would not be as effective as the soldiers. His men had been constructing improvised bunkers, and laying weapons caches. Mason only wished they had more anti-armor. The few working cars had either been allocated for medevac or for troop transports. As Mason looked around, he noticed the building to the east. As he stared at it, an idea began to form in his head. Just then, Tom came up to him...

"Hey sir," Tom said trotting to a stop in front of the Captain and saluted. "Everything's going smoothly sir, I grabbed one of your privates with a broken arm to instruct the shooting range, and you're guys are doing an excellent job with the bunkers and barricades. Sir, there's something I want to ask you though. You see that building?" Tom said pointing feeling like Mr. Obvious after doing so. "I was thinking about taking a team or two up there and establishing an overwatch OP. It has everything we need and more. Up there we could be fairly effective as an observation group and a fall back HQ if need be. There's more than plenty of room up there and we can find ways to make it impassable by barricades and traps. We could also set up a commo. station so we can broadcast over a wider range. We wont be able to assist in any fire fights that occur down here but we will be able to coordinate and observe enemy- er- infected movements as the battle progresses. What do you think sir? We could be ready to do a recon in about an hour or less?" Tom fired up yet another cigarette and waited for the captain to think.

'Hey Tily. Come over here.' Said Mark. Tily a girl about seven years came over to him.
'Listen Tily, tell no one but, I've got you..' He reached into his back pack and brought out a big pink teddy bear.

'Mr Fugglez!' She screeched in excitement. Snatching him from Mark.

'Listen, just keep him a secret, if the others find out that I've brought you Mr Fuggelz instead of food, they'll get very angry.'

'Ok.' she said, then quickly running off to play with the other kids.

'Yo Mark get over here.' said Clair, by the alter.

'Whats happening? said Mark.

'Put your head against the floor and listen.' Mark did as he was told, he knew Clair too well, to realize that saying no meant verbal death. Mark put his head to cold marble floor, next to the alter. For a moment he hared nothing, then all of a sudden scratching sound.

'What the hell's that?'

'There destroying the ceiling and our floor.'

'How though, their not smart enough for that?'

'What about that one you saw earlier?' Interrupted Tony.

'You don't mean that, that one is somehow in charge?'

'Why not? You said earlier that we probably haven't seen all the other types yet.'

'Lets stop wondering why, but what are we going to do? said Tony.

'Lets find an air shaft and get to the elevator shaft, from there we shimmy down to ground level and get out of this city.'

'Sounds like a plan.' said Tony.

'What about the others?' said Mark.

'We'll tell them what's happening. If they don't like it we move on without them.'

The Super Zed underneath the hiding place of Mark and the others grinned evilly. The basics weren't good for much other then menial tasks, but when it came to doing something simple, they went at it with unmatched determination. They knew there was food on the other side of what they were working on and they were determined to get it. Some Brutes were also working on it with crude pickaxes and other implements that were steadily chipping away at the survivor's shelter. It wouldn't be long now.

Character info:
Name: Robert Ochin
Age: 13
Job: Drifter, good with computers and fairly good at math
Weapons: Kicking and punching, has a sword from his father, could use a gun
Summary: Robert is white, with brown hair and blue eyes and about five feet and a hundred pounds. He was orphaned when his parents were ambushed by the zombies in the beginning of the attacks. He found his father's sword that has been in his family for generations, but is looking for a place to stay. He's just a teenager - and may be cool-headed at times - but needs a father figure. He's also a little bit of a softie, as well as an uncertain Catholic.

IC post coming up.

Mason came to a decision. "Alright, Tom, take a squad up there; more if you think you need them, and secure the building. Set up the comm station, and get Sheehan and his snipers into the front gallery.

"Roger sir, I'll leave the snipers with you, they won't be very effective at that distance, even with the 'up hill' advantage. Unless you mean you want me to leave them on say, the second floor atrium so they can have a clear shot. But that will only be a lateral shot sir, and it'll be long shots. I'll brief them all as if they were going, if you want to keep them just say so." Tom turned walking away "Sheehan! Bravo and Charlie Squads, 2nd Platoon FRAGO! Lets go!" Tom barked jogging toward the "command tent" to put a mission together. Bravo and Charlie squads detached from their respective missions on barricade and bunker duty to attended the briefing.

Tom briefed the troops quickly, they were all veterans with one or two non-blooded privates and the briefing went quickly with a few very pertinent questions before they were released to conduct PCC's and PCI's. Tom went to his own tent and began to prep his mission equipment. He briefed the mission as a day to a week with no or little hope of resupply. He packed accordingly. Tom made sure he had an ample supply of water and food. He took a few household chemicals that he would turn into explosive booby traps to block any incursions into the OP. He knew that the two squads would most likely do like wise. There would be no chance of anyone or anything coming up without their knowledge even less chance of it surviving to get to them.
Tom finished and headed out toward the rally point to smoke and wait for the two squads and Sheehan.

Walking through the shattered streets of the city, Conrad Mussina looked like he was going on a simple stroll. And truth be told, he kind of was. Zombie infestations were nothing new to him, as he had been sent to clean up a few of them. However, the cause of said outbreak was always something different, and an experienced man knew to never let your guard down, lest you waltz into an unpleasant surprise. And it was with that mind that Conrad conserves his ammo and only capped the zomboids that were immediately in his way.

Conrad spotted a man moving down the streets. A survivor? To be expected. There were always survivors, but this man looked experienced. He could be trouble...but Conrad would wait and see rather or not he was worth the ammo it would take to remove him.

((OOC: The man is Tom, if you want it to be))

Suddenly from the alley ways and buildings around Tom and Conrad, Basics started pouring out. They didn't seem to care what happened as long as they got to the two lone survivors. They were hungry because all the survivors in their area had already left and they weren't intelligent enough to figure that they needed to move. So when they saw live food sources, they charged recklessly.

Tom stopped the squads that were following him through the alleyways toward the "r" shaped building. Tom moved forward and halted hearing an indistinct sound. He jumped after seeing the surge of zombies pouring out on to the streets. Tom glanced up to see a man striding through the streets purposefully. Tom checked to see if he was infected and a target before ignoring him and opening fire on the hordes that were pouring through every portal of every building. Time seemed to slow as his senses kicked into over drive and he began snapping off head shots. The two squads were entering and clearing a nearby building to take up positions and open fire.

Tom began a steady fall back to the squads positions. He wasn't really expecting a horde this size but he was ready for them non-the-less. Fire, stand, fall back, fire, kneel... He continued the sequence until he was surrounded on three sides by two buildings, and the back of the alley, relative safety. The squads were set and firing accurate shots into the horde. Zombies were dropping left and right, holes blasted into rotting craniums or limbs and torsos sawed in twain. Tom continued to snap shots off at anything that was infected in his field of view. He listened to the radio chatter in his ear and was bolstered by the calm voices that were spaced intermittently with automatic or single shot gunfire. The rounds of communication were smooth and concise reporting positions and reload statuses.

Tom took a moment and searched for the purposeful stranger...

Robert walked down the lonely streets, sword ready for any upcomings.F***! A shadow! Oh no, just a piece of rubble... hey wait, is that a computer? He rushed forward only to find a monitor with a tower split in two. S***.

Continuing to walk down the street, he saw two guys walking toward each other on the street. Military officers, perhaps... have the attitude, and is that a gun with that one? Then the Basics started to stream in. He sneaked in behind them and then took off one's head with his sword. Might as well die fighting to try and save two military guys who have a better chance of stopping this.

Then he saw the bullet spray. Great. Thankfully, only one came near him, which managed to take out the Basic in front of him. Loser. Robert ran forward to try and join the man, cutting through a couple of ranks of Basics.

"Hello there sir." He continued to try to fend off the Basics with his sword so the guy with the gun could continue to mow them down. (OOC: You, Telz.)

Mason heard shots ahead. He should have known that there would be an ambush nearby with so many survivors in one area. The basics couldn't plan an assault, but they knew where the food was. He turned to Anders, supervising the delicate manufacture of several large fougasses nearby. "Anders!" Mason barked. "You're in charge here. Eriksson, I want another two squads to form up now. Get plenty of SAW's and two of the AT4's. We need that building, and every soldier we have alive counts." Mason and the Sergeant rounded up the soldiers, then charged out of the compound. If the compound was attacked when they were away, well... there were still almost three platoons there as well as armed civilians, and Anders was more than capable of defending the area until the four missing squads returned. When Mason got to the area, his men took up position in the middle of the street. Not the best tactical position, but here it didn't matter- all the basics were heading into one alley, presumably where Tom and any of the men with him had gone. No way out, but they couldn't be flanked, either... "SAW's in front, carbines and marksmen behind!" Mason yelled. The men opened up. A wave of rifle fire met the flood at average head level, decapitating the tall ones and taking the tops off the shorts. Some of the horde turned their attentions to the squads, but they were cut down quickly. The horde seemed to never end. Mason noticed for the first time that his soldiers were in the windows and on balconies- not in the alley. Something was there, holding the Basics' limited attention. Tom must be in there alone! Mason realized with a start. "I want a fireteam with me!" Mason said. Four men, two carbines, a SAW, and a marksmen snapped out of formation. "Tom's in that alley alone," Mason said, "and we're going to go get him like we would any other soldier. Eriksson, you keep the enemy busy. And we'll take those AT4's." Mason led the four men along the sides of the building, until they got to a point around twenty yards from the alley entrance. "Use those AT4's now," he said, pointing at the door most of the basics were coming out of, "one at the alley entrance, one at that doorway." The men complied, dropping the spent tubes. Huge gaps opened up as the Basics were blasted aside. The team moved into the alley, where the steady firing of an M8 was accompanied by the spray of gore. No Basics were at their backs, the AT4's and the four squads had taken the middle. And standing there, looking surprised at him, was Tom, some man looking completely composed, and a kid with a sword, of all things. "You keep strange company," Mason said. The howl of a Basic interrupted him, and a tide of flesh poured out of the building. In that moment, Mason understood just how tenuous his situation was. Mason began prepping a pair of M67's. the Marksman went ahead and threw one, which leveled only the front row of the oncoming tide. The men opened fire, and Mason realized he might have committed slow-motion suicide by entering this alley.

What the... Robert looked up. Soldiers? Well... at least they're not Basics... thank goodness. He paused. But... I can't leave this guy here. Great. I can't move toward them. Continuing to stop the zombies, he hoped they would get there soon. He was running out of energy.

(uh...Kenavt if u read the last part of OWM's post u'll realize he already reached u. lol)

FFS, OOC: ):<
(uh...Kenavt if u read the last part of OWM's post u'll realize he already reached u. lol)

Well, he did post within "20 minutes" of OWM, and Jolt has been known for its "time warps" due to differences in time-zone settings.

Quite possable he posted before OWM. And yeah, it's fairly frequent, rarely caught unless recognized.
This is why I tend to like limiting IC-posts to once a day per thread per person or less.

Anyways, this is easily solved by letting OWM and Kev assume it happened in reverse-order, fluid-time posting FTW.

So, um, am I going to meet a survivor, zombie, or empty house?
Oh GM :hail:

"Good evening..." Tom shouted over the moaning roar of the basics as they threatened to encompass the four now standing in the open alley mouth. "Nice night for a walk!" He continued to mow down zombies as they began to thin down. Tom watched as the man with the sword made expert slices through the heads and necks of the basics. And Mason was slamming rounds into the heads of the nearby groaners. Tom had lost sight of the purposeful man in the horde. "Push back to the squads and yell 'human' before you go in the door." Tom told Mason and the sword wielder as he covered their fall backs. Tom herd the young man shout and chanced a glance over his shoulder to make sure he was safe and saw two arms clad in OWM sleeves pull the boy in sword flailing, Mason and his team were covering Tom's egress as Tom fell back to him. OWM's grabbed Mason and a shot went wild over Tom's head as he was pulled into the door. Tom got to the door mouth and shouted the password and was similarly grabbed and dragged in.

The Minions slammed a massive piece of heavy office furniture across the door. Nothing was getting through that. The alley was small enough that the hordes couldn't put enough pressure on the door to breech it. The OWM's were keeping 360 security, and began to fall up to the second floor where Charlie squad was already blasting away at the horde from above and making craters with grenades in the writhing bodies of undead. The ranks were clearing substantially. It looked as though the OWM squads had over packed as much as Tom had and were eager to alleviate the burden. Two privates were running back and forth supplying ammunition and grenades from the central dump in the middle of the floor. Assistant gunners were feeding ammo to their automatic weapons leaders pausing after they attached a new belt or drum to pull the pin on a grenade and lob it out the window into the crowd.

Tom paused at the opening for only a moment taking in the ruthless efficiency of the single squad. These guys were consummate professionals. The chatter on the radio was the assistant gunners and the privates giving ammo stats and personnel dispositions to Tom as the "Platoon" leader. Tom made a mental note to advise his chain of command that going to war with OWM was never a good idea, and that every pain must be made to ally with them, as they are equal in discipline and training to the TIS.

Tom strode into the room and found an open window to fire from, as the rest of bravo rolled in and took up positions in the room that jutted out over the buildings entrance. A fire team began clearing rooms and knocking down adjacent walls to open up the area to maintain better eyes on with the main body of the platoon. Tom continued to blast down toward the roiling horde. He saw the modern Samurai pulling rear security, his sword at the ready. "Hey! New guy! Catch!" Tom unslung the P90 that was strapped to his back.

He didn't doubt the man's ability with the sword he just needed him more at a window. If they couldn't get up the stairs then they couldn't get to the back of the platoon. The young man joined Tom at his window, taking aim he squeezed off a burst at a group of the horde. "Nice shooting, only eleventy billion left!" Tom shouted over the cacophony of gun fire. The horde was now beginning to resemble a small lynch mob and more manageable in numbers. The East side of the building, the side that Charlie squad had knocked down the walls to was silent, Mason was setting up and integrating his squad with Charlie. Evidently they had no targets left on that side but remained vigilant for any.

The privates began to get the gear together for another movement. "Charlie squad, remain, Bravo continue to suppress and prepare for exfill down to the streets for clean up operations." Tom said into his com. He glanced down to the streets for the purposeful man and saw only zombie corpses. Where was he?

((OWM I'm on my yahoo.))

Mason ducked through the door as the soldiers sealed it off. Amazingly, he had not lost a single man in his suicidal engagement. Breathing heavily, he then realized that with the alley crew safe, it was only a matter of time before the Basics stopped pounding on the door and went after Eriksson and his five fireteams. running to a window adjacent to their position, Mason yelled out to Eriksson "Sergeant, we're clear! I'll go to the building, you take your men back to Anders. Tell him he has complete control until I return or tell him otherwise." Eriksson saluted, and his men withdrew slowly, firing to cover their retreat. Mason assessed the situation. He had, in total, seven fireteams, and Tom, equivalent in aptitude to an OWM's Master Sergeant with several campaigns worth experience. At the moment, they were trapped in a building block under attack by a horde of Basics. Fortunately, they exibited no sign of being controlled by an Intelligent, so the soldiers could probably leave through the back door. The only issues were the two civilians- the composed man and the kid with the sword. Mason couldn't gauge their combat value or experience-the kid probably had none, but the composed man looked even a little... bored? Looking around, Mason suddenly noticed: the kid was there, the man wasn't. He was either on another floor or had never made it inside. If the latter was the case, though, the basics had finished with him fast. They showed no signs of having eaten anything, and they still would be- the man must have gone off on his own. Crazy.

Tom whipped out the area map from his thigh pocket and surveyed it making a mark on it for their location. His markers were coded with tape to indicate what they were on the map, green was their location. He glanced up at the squads moving about making ready to move out. The horde had been quelled and there was a fire team popping shots into the heads of those left on the streets. The staccato sound of random single shots in the almost silence was a little unnerving but Tom concentrated on the map.

He stood and walked over to Mason who was having a wrap session with one of his team leaders.

"Sir, we're here, and we only have..." Tom said recounting the grids on the map. "Two kliks to go, we can make it if we push quick we can be there in 50 mikes maybe less with bounding cover. Or if you have another trick to avoid weaving through the streets I'd love to hear it." He gave the Captain a side long smile and handed over the laminated map.

((OOC: To make things easy on me, can I go ahead and assume Conrad made it into the building with you?))

((That's fine, we'll just pick him up from one of the other rooms like he slipped in the back or side. Here, I'll set it up.))

There was a commotion and Tom and Mason looked up to see the purposeful man attempting entry into the rooms.
"Let him in boys!" Mason said ((Kind of had to OWM sorry)) Tom kept his hand on his pistol. You can't really know who you can trust in situations like this. Tom watched as he was led into the room and surveyed the area. Tom looked up at Mason querulously.

"Names Tom, SSG. Telz Immortal Soldiery. You seem a little bored." Tom said standing and extending his hand to shake toward the man.