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| Dead Men Walking | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (70,973 Views) | |
| Strompy | May 17 2015, 12:56 AM Post #1546 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"We're all okay. Ran into some trouble down here and made our way to a control room. If you lookin my bag you'll find a sketch pad and some pencils, use that to write any messages or questions." he infirmed them. Inside it were numerous sketches of her and the others. One he was particularly pleased with was a sketch of several of them including Glenda and Julie all sitting at and near the table in the kutchen while they were under house arrest. Everyone looked at ease, contented, even Emmett wore an uncharacteristic easy look on his face. His favorites were the ones he only imagined though, Willow and his mother sharing some private joke, or his dad shaking Randall's hand. It was for precious things, which at that moment was the three people they loved so it was no sacrifice. |
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| DoctorYerishi | May 17 2015, 03:51 AM Post #1547 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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As Brandon spoke with the people they had left at the top of the shaft, the incessant beeping continued. Eli – prompted by Randall’s question – finally opened the journal. He found it full of neatly handwritten entries. They were much longer than the entries in the pilot’s journal he had found in Mount Kisco. He started speed-reading. Annie, meanwhile, after looking at Connor’s image in the monitors, moved onto the laptop in front of the corpse. She gingerly pulled the chair with the body away, then stood and took its place. Eli paced as his eyes scanned the paper. These journal admissions may have been longer than the first ones, but they were no less cryptic. They referenced a project and a cause and spoke in vague terms about progress. It mentioned supervisors and colleagues without naming any names. It also dropped words like reanimation and fever, which gave him a strong clue about the subject of their work down here, at least. We learned today that the package was ready, read an entry several pages in, and Eli perked up. We sent a team to retrieve it and are awaiting word about their arrival. In the meantime, we are continuing our purification efforts of the antigen. We have had some early success with simulated moving-bed chromatography. That was the clearest entry yet. Eli felt pretty confident it indicated they were working on a cure. He wasn’t sure of much else, but that at least seemed right. He kept reading and tuned out that infuriating beeping from the loudspeakers above. The situation on the outside has gotten out of hand, another entry reported. It was in the second half of the journal, dated just shy of a month ago. We have locked down the campus and moved all our work to Central. Our stores should last us four months. More if properly rationed. If delays continue, will radio the Chicago cell for further assistance. After that, he frowned when he saw some entries were crossed-out. Self-redacted, it looked like. He couldn’t read the words behind the markings. He kept flipping. Still awaiting delivery of the package. He saw those words on the next in-tact entry, dated almost three weeks ago, and stopped there. Courier is behind schedule and hasn’t been in contact. Colleagues are getting worried. This worry has created some tension. At least one supervisor has started acting erratically. Will report the situation to Cypress leadership. Eli cocked his head. Cypress? The name – or whatever it was – confused him. What the fuck was Cypress? He kept going. The next entry was a little less neat. It reported that tensions were increasing before trailing off unfinished. The next page was ripped out entirely. So was the page after that. And four more pages after that. He was getting near the end. He narrowed his eyes. “I think they were developing a cure here, like we thought,” he mumbled his report, as he kept thumbing through for more info. “They were waiting on a package, it didn’t come, there were some other problems…” FUCK YOU, KOENIG. He blinked and trailed off. The second-to-last page of the journal had that written at the top in capital letters. It wasn’t dated. Sloppier lowercase scrawl followed it. Bastard let the test subjects loose in the lab. I knew he was fucking crazy but not… Eli couldn’t read the handwriting of the remainder of the sentence. He picked up again at what he guessed were a list of names. Ricour, Vaudour, Balabanov… All gone. Massey too. He’s the one that got me in the store room. Fucking Koenig, that murdering cocksucker. A new paragraph, several lines down. The print was sloppy, but the tone was different. It may have been written a little later than the rest of it. All of Central has been evacuated or bit. Me included. At least Seznec escaped with the samples. I’ve gotten in contact with leadership. A team is en route to escort him and the other survivors to our purpose-built facility in San Francisco. Leadership says they will find a way to reroute or recover the package. Nothing I can do about that from here. Eli’s heart skipped a beat. Several beats, even. He re-read that paragraph, trying to wrap his mind around it, trying to ensure he understood. He didn’t know what to feel – hope or despair. They had come so far already. The idea that it had all been for nothing was devastating. But after everything they endured, the idea that they had so much further to go – he wasn’t sure if that felt much better. “They relocated…” he reported, mumbling again through his shock. The complexity of his emotions played out on his face. “To a lab in San Francisco.” He had gotten to the end of that page. Only one more to go. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | May 17 2015, 04:14 AM Post #1548 |
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Is that so?
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"You're telling me... the cure is actually real?" Jen was clearly stunned by the revelation; Randall couldn't blame her for not believing. "Holy shit..." Package. The cure. San Francisco. Randall felt a swell of energy in his gut. Just getting from New York to Chicago had been hell. Blood had been spilled, lives had been lost. Hearts broken. Going all the way to San Francisco might be easier once they hit the rural landscape of central America. It was a long way to go, but they could avoid cities fairly easily. But he didn't even care about that. Ever since they started, he had been weighed down by the possibility of the cure being a hoax. But this journal here... it confirmed it. The map with the canister they found led them to a lab synthesizing a cure; the journal mentioned the package that never arrived. It all pointed to the legitimacy of the cure. What he had been carrying... his hopes hadn't been misplaced. Their lives hadn't been lost for nothing. This was the real deal. They really could save the world. Randall slumped down in the nearest chair. He needed a moment. He needed to think. Eli had not said much as he read the journal, but what little he did say had profoundly changed the game. It gave Randall a lot to dwell on. "You know... here to San Francisco isn't that bad of a drive." He finally told Eli. "A lot of flat, rural land... not many cities. We could be there in a few days." |
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| Strompy | May 17 2015, 07:54 AM Post #1549 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"San Fr... are you fucking kidding me?" Brandon asked with a hint of outrage. A moment before he had been completely devastated to think there was no hope. Now there was hope. On the other side of the country. Considering how long it had taken and how many lives had been lost in this pursuit, that next lab may as well have been on the moon. Fate robbed them of their victory and now dangled it in front of them again from even longer stick. Brandon rubbed his eyes and turned back to face watch the security feed. "You stupid mother fuckers." he cursed the now dead lab employees under his breath. |
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| DoctorYerishi | May 17 2015, 12:53 PM Post #1550 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Eli glanced up at Randall and Brandon, noting their reactions. Randall’s optimism was refreshing, he was glad at least someone had some left. Personally, his feelings were more in line with Brandon’s. He glanced back down at the journal, though, as he flipped to the final page. The final page with text, anyway. A quick flipping through the remaining pages with his thumb revealed the rest were empty. All I can do from here is put everyone here out of their misery. I thought I could, anyway. I activated the decontamination protocol, but before the HITs in the vents could detonate, we lost power. Eli blinked. Decontamination protocol. Detonate. These words didn’t sound good, even if he didn’t quite understand what they meant. I don’t have much time left, the journal ended a few lines down. Fuck you, Koenig. I’ll see you in hell. And that was it. “Wait, wait, it says something about decontaminating the place with HITs in the vents,” Eli reported out loud. “The fuck’s an HIT?” Annie still stood by the laptop. She had been stunned into looking away by Eli’s report, but blinked and went back to it. Her eyes shone with renewed alarm. She opened a screen with a countdown on it. The number on the screen went down in time with the incessant beeping all around them – which explained that. According to the laptop, they had just over nine minutes to go until… something. “High impulse thermobaric,” Annie said. She spoke the words with horror in her voice. “It’s a fuel-air explosive. I’ve read about it. From what I remember, it uses a large of quantity of highly volatile fuel surrounding a conventional…” She trailed off, perhaps realizing that a technical explanation wasn’t necessary right now. When she looked away from the computer, she was visibly shaking. “It’s bad,” she summarised quickly. “It’s really bad.” “Well fuckin’ turn it off!” Eli insisted, pointing at the laptop. Annie frowned, and then went back to the laptop. Her eyes narrowed as she seemingly tried to do that. She moved the mouse around and hit a couple keys. Her frown deepened as she stopped, still shaking. “I… I can’t,” she said, not meeting Eli’s gaze. “I don’t know how. It could take…” As she trailed off, Eli’s panic level rose to match hers. He glanced back at the journal, his eyes scrolling up a little bit. He re-read speedily. Before the… could detonate… lost power. That was it! “The power!” he said out loud, and then turned urgently to Randall – the guy who seemed to know what he was doing in this arena. “Randall, we need to shut it off! Now!” |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | May 17 2015, 01:19 PM Post #1551 |
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Is that so?
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At the top of the elevator, Willow had Brandon's sketch pad in her lap and was looking it over. She had originally planned to use it to ask questions, but she instead found herself looking at his sketches. She had seen him drawing back at Flint, but had never actually seen what he was working on. A small smile was on her lips as she looked over the images he had captured from inside the house and the ones that were concocted in his imagination. "Did Brandon draw that?" Kelsey inquired while peering over her shoulder. "Yes he did." Willow told her. "Whoaaaa... he's good at drawing!" "I wish I could draw like that." The pink-haired woman told her. "He's really good at it." * * * * * Brandon's outrage was understandable, as was Eli's mix of emotions. Randall felt like he was the odd one out for being relieved that the cure was real. He mused mentally at himself; out of everyone here, he was the one most aware of the possibility it could be fake. Ironic considering it was him who rallied them all behind it. But as was overwhelmed just to learn the cure was actually real, he couldn't pretend to not be disappointed that they needed to go even further to deliver it. Of course, Randall's own internal dialogue was short lived -- the new revelations from Eli sent a cold chill down his spine and gripped him with panic. Annie couldn't stop it from the laptop, so they absolutely needed to turn off the generator. They had nine-ish minutes, but Randall was already putting together a plan. If they could disable the generator, they could put together a plan to get out of here. If they determined the elevator was the only way out, they could turn on the power and make a break for it later. "Let's go!" Randall was on his feet immediately and on his way to the generator. He all but sprinted through the doors back to the generator room. He could hear the others filing behind him, but he didn't bother looking back. He arrived at the generator and headed for the panel. Turning it off was a simpler matter than turning it on; it only took him a few seconds to cut the power to the entire lab and douse everything in darkness once again. |
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| DoctorYerishi | May 17 2015, 03:31 PM Post #1552 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Eli never expected to be so relieved by total darkness. The relief was short-lived, though – really short lived. Even though the lights went out, the apocalyptic beeping continued. It kept ringing out above, every beep a reminder of their impending doom. “Why isn’t it stopping!?” Eli demanded of no one in particular. The radio crackled. “What’s going on?” Emmett’s voice interjected with a question of his own. Eli picked up his radio and answered quickly. “We’re in trouble,” was all he could bring himself to say about it. He started considering alternative courses of action. “How we doin’ on that rope?” “Nothing yet,” Emmett reported back. “I heard Brandon before on the loudspeaker. Has something changed?” He was probably confused by the power coming on and then turning off again so quickly. Eli envied him. He would rather be in his position. Confusion was better than the terror of being imminently torn apart by an explosion. The thought of dying so pointlessly – and dying underground, especially – was starting to send Eli into a mental spiral. He realized he was still gripping the journal in his off hand. He folded it up and shoved it into his pocket, and looked to Randall for direction. He could barely see him in the renewed darkness. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | May 17 2015, 03:43 PM Post #1553 |
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Is that so?
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"They must have a backup generator." Randall shook his head. "We could stop the bombs if we figured out where it was, but we don't have the time to find it." It took everything Randall had to stay calm. The countdown was still ticking and he sure as hell did not want to die underground. Even Eli was jilted; Randall had to stay calm. Otherwise they could all die. "We probably have about eight minutes left." Randall explained everything in his mind as he went back to working on the control panel for the generators. "We can't look for backup generators, we can't look for another way out. We need to take the only exit we know." The generator stuttered back to life at Randall's command; not quite as strongly as it had before but he hardly had the luxury of worrying about that right now. "The elevator." |
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| Strompy | May 17 2015, 06:13 PM Post #1554 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"Tell Emmett to get Willow and the kids out of here." Brandon said as he drew his carbine. There was no point playing it quiet, it would be hell on everyone's hearing but he figured an explosion would be wirse. He could kill rotters faster with a gun than a knife, and all they needed was a window to clear the elevator. The idea of fighting their way towards that deathtrap was almost amusing considering how hard they fought to get away from it. It would be if not for the fact they might die in the attempt. At least the others could get out safe. If they didn't make it out Emmett and Willow were smart and capable enough to keep them all safe. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | May 17 2015, 06:16 PM Post #1555 |
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Is that so?
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"Emmett." Randall heeded Brandon's advice and immediately said into the radio. "Get Willow and the kids out of here right now. If you don't hear back from us in ten minutes, take everyone back to Flint." |
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| DoctorYerishi | May 17 2015, 06:55 PM Post #1556 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Randall’s words froze Emmett in place. He didn’t like the idea of leaving them behind for any reason, but their tone suggested the situation was dire and urgent. He didn’t want to distract them with an argument or a request for an explanation. He wanted to know what any of this meant for the cure they had come so far to deliver, but that could wait until everybody was safe. After Glenda and Julie, he wasn’t ready to lose anyone else. “Okay,” he said, pressing down on the button on his transceiver. Then he broke into a run, heading back the way he came. * * * Eli didn’t need any more prompting. He clicked on his flashlight once again and led the way out of the generator room and back into the staircase. He hustled up the winding stairs, brushing his shoulder against the wall as he ran. Back in the lab, they could see the horde of former lab employees through the window again, and they could see them back. “Brandon,” he said, gesturing to the glass. “If you got any bullets left in that thing, now would be a good time.” The more of them trying to get in here, the less of them in the elevator, he reasoned, but didn’t say out loud. Brandon could probably come to that conclusion on his own, and time was of the essence. |
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| Strompy | May 17 2015, 09:15 PM Post #1557 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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This situation at least was very simple. Get out or die in a firey explosion. He'd have te to think about the cure and what it meant for them if they got out alive. Right now he just had to shoot things, which he was good at. CRACK The first shot rang out loudly in tge enclosed soace, hurting his already aching ears. The bullet punched through the glass and impacted with the brain of a portly lab tech. Brandon allowed himself a nasty little bit of self satisfaction as he reflected on how envious he'd been of people with higher education. He wasn't made for academics and that meant he was limited in what he ciuld do. It had always seemed like college was the only way to go on to have a meaningful life and that since he hadn't attended he was somehow a less complete person. Well he was alive and they were all dead, fat load of good college did them. CRACK He fired again downing another rotter. Now weakened the glass shattered as another rotter slammed its clumsy mitts against it. Brandon kepted firing, downing rotter after rotter as they attemptef to clamber into the room. He walked as he did so appraoching the storage room. He kept up the firing, ensuring a sizable following of rotters before following the others inside and closing the door behind him. Any rotters in the hall would now be circling around to get into the room they just left. |
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| DoctorYerishi | May 18 2015, 01:21 AM Post #1558 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Emmett was back in the lobby in front of the elevator in no time. He stopped by Willow in the kids, who all seemed startled by his sudden re-appearance. “We need to leave,” he said simply but urgently, and gestured for the exit. * * * Annie covered her ears as Brandon fired, then followed him and the others back into the storage room as the rotters converged. When the door closed behind her, she felt only hollow relief. “Good work, good work,” Eli said. “I think that did the trick.” Annie hadn’t known Eli a long time, relatively, but he was acting as anxious as he ever had. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anybody else. “Alright, alright – from the other side, we go straight for the elevator,” Eli said. “We move the bodies that are in the way, we press the button, and we’re gone.” He looked to Randall for approval, not for the first time today. Of course, Randall didn’t have any objections, so Eli moved to the door. He drew his baton once more before opening it. Annie, meanwhile, drew her knife. Her nerves felt like they were setting her skin on fire. She found herself longing for the comparatively stress-free rotter fights of yesterday. At least Connor is safe, she told herself. Emmett and Willow will take care of that. And if the worst happens… She shook her head, vanquishing the thought. If she was going to get back to Connor, she’d need to direct all her focus to what was coming next. The door opened and Eli disappeared through it in a dash. Annie followed. On the other side, she saw the rotters they had pushed through to get here had mostly moved towards the lab, as planned. The group had a clear shot to the elevator doors and they took it. When they arrived, she leaned over to drag a rotter body away from the threshold. It was one of at least five. The elevator door wasn’t going to close while their limbs were standing in the way. Nearby, she heard renewed groaning. She looked up to see some rotters had noticed their reappearance, and were once again heading their way. She finished moving one of the bodies outside, then jumped into the cab. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | May 18 2015, 01:39 AM Post #1559 |
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Is that so?
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"Let's get the eff outta here!" Jen sprinted towards the elevator doors with everyone else. She knew it was full of dead rotters. She also never thought she would push every fiber of her being to jump into an elevator cab full of dead rotters. Few things could be more disgusting. Yet here she was. That was their escape to the surface; the constant beeping served as a reminder that they were on a timer. A very short timer. Jen grabbed one of the rotters blocking the elevator doors as she arrived and pulled it out. Nearby, she saw Randall doing the exact same thing. Nobody even needed to be told what to do, they did it on instinct. They were like a well oiled machine doing what they needed to do in order to survive. She felt like she needed to do as much work as possible to even prove herself of being worthy to fight and live alongside these people. Annie was a doctor, but all Jen had was a gun and a baseball bat. As soon as her first rotter was free from the elevator doors, she immediately went to work on a second one. |
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| Strompy | May 18 2015, 01:53 AM Post #1560 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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Brandon slung his carbine and helped Randall move the rotter he grabbed, dragging it by its leg. It was inevitable that they would draw some attention to themselves, and like always, as soon as one took notice of them another took notice, and then another. Brandon helped Jen move her second rotter with his foot while he drew his weapon again. He fired a shot at the one in the lead dropping him a few yards away from the door, and backed up into the elevator, ready to drop anymore that got too close for comfort. |
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7:29 PM Jul 10