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| Dead Men Walking | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (70,898 Views) | |
| Make-7-Up-Yours | Sep 4 2015, 03:59 PM Post #2671 |
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Is that so?
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"I'll go." Nolan said flatly. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Sep 4 2015, 04:09 PM Post #2672 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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“Okay,” Annie said. Jimmy was already behind the wheel. A moment later, his truck spurred to life. He waited for Annie and Nolan to join him. Before she did, Annie handed her medical bag to Antonio and gave him some quick, sotto instructions. She spared forlorn glances at her patients and her kid, before making her way to the passenger’s seat. “Be right back,” Jimmy said when she and Nolan were buckled in. He gave the others a wave. * * * Eli took a seat on the ground by the van. His body slumped against the tire, and his head bounced against the rubber as he stared up at the sky. It will be light soon, he realized, as he heard Jimmy’s truck glide away. And it would, he knew. Soon, the sun would peek above the horizon, casting the desert road in shades of purple and orange, and then yellow. It would be light again. It would. A thought chilled him, however. The thought that – maybe it won’t. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Sep 4 2015, 04:42 PM Post #2673 |
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Is that so?
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For Nolan, driving back through the war zone they had just survived was... eerie. The 18-wheeler was still on fire. Some of the deceased were already starting to stir back to life. It left an uncomfortable feeling in Nolan's stomach. Would Jen be like that too when they found her? A mindless rotter, crawling around? He had seen her helmet explode, yes. But that didn't mean the bullet had hit her head. God, I hope it did. He didn't want to see her like that. A part of him didn't want to see her at all. But at the same time... it did. He wanted that confirmation. He wanted that closure. The closure he had never gotten with Monica. Despite the carnage around them as they drove, the one thing that he could think about was what they would find when they reached Jen's body. The drive only took about ten minutes... but every minute felt like an eternity. And every minute they drove, his heart beat faster and faster; harder and harder until it felt like he couldn't take it anymore. Finally, the truck pulled to a stop. He felt like he had to consciously stop his body from shaking. He was scared of what they were about to find. As the lights shone where she had fallen, Nolan saw that unlike the others they passed, her body still laid motionlessly in the ditch. Nolan wasn't sure if that was a relief or not. Not like it mattered; nothing was going to give him relief now. They filed out of the truck and approached her. She was laying face up in a ditch off the side of the road, the motorcycle not far from her. She must not have been going that fast when she crashed. He got a good view of the damages. Halfway down her left calf, the leg turned into a mass of ground meat from where the bullet had hit her. The foot that had been attached to the leg was either destroyed or farther down the freeway. A smaller pool of blood was on her left side; no more than a graze by the looks of it. Overall, she looked better than he had expected. Her helmet was cracked and broken; a large portion of it near the top of completely destroyed completely. Likely that was where the bullet had hit. Nolan reached down and grabbed both sides of the helmet. Dammit Jen. He hesitated. What was he going to find? He pulled the helmet off her head. And her face... didn't look that bad. There was a long gash running from the right side of her forehead and into her hairline among a number of smaller scratches across her face. But it was still very recognizably Jen. Seeing her like this... was physically painful. But her eyes were closed he thought he could see a smile on her lips. She looked peaceful. Something was off though. She should have turned by now. She was one of the first ones to die, right? And her head looked intact. Why was she still just a body? Without thinking, Nolan reached down to her neck. His heart stopped. "She's..." His arm was shaking; he could barely formulate the words. "She's not dead." |
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| Strompy | Sep 4 2015, 05:24 PM Post #2674 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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Brandon was torn as his friends argued amongst themselves. He felt like shooting Darren himself but he had at least had the presence to judge how pointless that would be. The man helped Eli escape Green River, even crashed himself into one of Cory's cars to help them. He at least earned his life. There was no way he was going to ride with them, but he didn't have to die. He partly agreed with Nolan. Eli was really starting to scare the shit out of him. He remembered one of the people he was fighting for found himself in Eli's exact position and chose forgiveness, a decision which he must be really questioning right now. Darren wasn't a threat like Cory or Wendy, he was just some fucking guy, just like Evan. It was like Eli didn't learn a thing from it. Would Darren's sister come after them too now? At the same time he knew Eli's concerns always rested with their friends, just the same as Brandon. His own loyalty to him also kept him from leaping into the argument on Nolan's side, which would have only made things worse. Whatever the hell was going on with Eli, shouting wasn't going to make it any better. Everyone was either looking at Eli with concern or markedly looking at anything but him. Everyone was just quiet. Emily returned to the van after dragging Darren's body off the road. One less obstruction, but mostly it was because nobody wanted to see it. She sat down next to Brandon and put an arm around which he reciprocated. He was getting a lot of hugs. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Sep 4 2015, 10:13 PM Post #2675 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Annie had her pistol gripped unsteadily in her hands. When they saw Jen’s bike and pulled over, she found the handle had become slippery with her sweat. They hadn’t decided who would finish Jen off, but Annie now had to wonder if she even could. Jen was her friend. One of the oldest in the world, considering how things were now. Annie had saved her life and vice versa. Rotter or not – could she kill her? She didn’t know. She gulped as she exited the truck, following Nolan to the body. She gulped again when she saw Jen’s familiar form in a pool of blood – and saw that it was still. Maybe her brain had been destroyed after all. Maybe they could lay her to rest the old fashioned way. Nolan approached, and pulled off her helmet. Careful, Annie wanted to say, but her throat was too dry. She saw then what Nolan must have felt – Jen was alive. * * * Eli rose to his feet. He knew people were avoiding looking at him, but he was too tired to care. He was almost too tired to stand up, even, but he did it anyway. A late thought struck him, requiring his return to the interior of the van, where he found Brandon’s bag. The last time he saw this, he had put something in it. He unzipped the pocket where he had, and there it was. The familiar black canister. The cure. What this was all for. What this had to be worth at the end of the day, what just had to be. He zipped Brandon’s bag closed, with the canister still in hand. He looked around for his own bag – Mac’s bag once, the last memento of him. He hoped it was still in the van somewhere, and it was. He sighed in relief when he found it. He unzipped a compartment again, almost identical to the one Brandon had in his. He slipped the canister back inside, and pondered just how close he might have been to losing it. He made a silent vow to never let it get away again. * * * Annie was taken aback like she never had been before. She stood dumbfounded for a long moment – then her instincts kicked in. “Jimmy, put some towels down!” she ordered. “Nolan, we need to help her into the truck, I can’t treat her there in the dirt.” Judging by the amount of blood, and by the mangled state of her leg, Jen was in serious trouble. She needed to make sure she was stable, and fast. Her mind raced, but in one direction, down one clear pathway. Jen is alive, she thought. And we need to keep her that way. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Sep 5 2015, 01:48 AM Post #2676 |
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Is that so?
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Trouble was an understatement. She looked okay, but she had still lost a lot of blood and been in a bad crash. She could be suffering from broken bones and internal bleeding that none of them could even see. Nolan knew that there was a very good chance that she would never wake up again. But there was a chance that she would. And Nolan was going to take it. Nolan followed Annie's orders seamlessly; he scooped up the half-dead Jennifer West and gently placed her on top of the towels that Jimmy had laid out in the back of his truck. His arm screamed at him while he did so, but he was able to ignore the pain. This was more important than that. "Please save her, doc." Nolan pleaded quietly. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Sep 5 2015, 02:29 AM Post #2677 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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These days, when Hank Kelly dreamed, he dreamed of the ocean. He felt guilty about that. He thought he should be dreaming of Julianne. He should be holding onto her in his head, since he could no longer hold her in his arms. Every time he woke up without seeing her face, he considered it a wasted opportunity, and he told himself next time. Next time I sleep, I’ll dream of you, honey, he promised. I’ll see you again soon. Somehow. But then his eyes would shutter – sometimes voluntarily, other times not – and the ocean would be there and Julianne wouldn’t. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the ocean. The opposite was true. He loved it. It had always held an allure for him. A siren call, almost. As a kid, he was always begging to go the beach. Then his family moved to inland, and he went without it for a few years, until he was old enough to change that. He applied to colleges in coastal states. He was accepted to one in North Carolina, and he was back there again all the time. Even after he graduated and got married – to Julianne, who he had met on a beach – he found time to get back to the water. Not even kids and his growing work responsibilities could keep him away. He used to keep a pair of swimming trunks in his car. When he was driving by the ocean, he almost felt like he had moral obligation to get in. He didn’t always surf, and sometimes he didn’t even swim. He just had to baptize himself, almost. He hadn’t been baptized in a long time. It had been a few weeks even before the biters happened and his whole world fell out from under him, seemingly all at once. That’s not true, he reminded himself as his dream of the ocean faded away. Your whole world didn’t end. Not your whole world. That’s what Riley would tell him, if he ever slipped up and admitted to her he had those kind of thoughts. He had to admit she was right. Julianne was gone, but Ruby was still there. CJ was still there. Hell, even Andy was still there, and if he wasn’t family by blood he was just as good as. “You’re up,” Riley said, managing a small smile when his eyes met hers. “How long…” “…were you out? Only an hour or so.” When they were kids, his sister started finishing his sentences for him. Sometimes, she did it to tease him, other times, because she was impatient. Mostly, she couldn’t help it. Forty years or so later, she was still doing it. He didn’t mind. “What time is it?” She gestured out the windshield. The stars were still out, same as when he dozed off. “Still night time,” she answered. “You’re just in time to see the sunrise.” “Oh.” “You feel like taking over?” she asked, gesturing with her chin to the steering wheel. “I feel like going back to sleep,” he said, knowing full well that wasn’t about to happen. “Too bad, Charlie,” Riley confirmed, her voice playful. “Your shift, remember? No take-backs allowed.” Charlie was Hank’s real name, in a way. Charles Henry Kelly was it in full. His whole life, he had always gone by his middle name. So did his sister. Her real name was Catriona Riley Kelly. She was the only one that called him Charlie. The only one besides Ruby, at least. His daughter liked to call him Charlie when she was goading or teasing him. One of the many ways she took after her aunt. The list also included physical attributes, like her dark red hair and fair skin. Where is Ruby, anyway? he asked himself. Where’s CJ? They were familiar thoughts. They ran through his mind all the time, really, but most often before he closed his eyes to go to sleep, and usually again when he woke up. Fortunately, on this occasion, all Hank had to do was look behind him into the cabin to see they were both present and accounted for, sitting or sleeping on separate sides of the RV’s dinette. For her part, Ruby had her nose in a book, and the way she yawned into her fist made it clear she was fighting back her own fatigue. CJ, meanwhile, had already lost that fight. His little body was curled up into a ball on the cushions opposite his big sister, his mouth open wide enough to catch flies. Hank could only hope his dreams were pleasant. He wasn’t sure why they would be, but he still hoped. The door to the bedroom in the back was also open, and Hank could see Noah’s leg sticking out. If he listened closely, he could hear him murmuring. In the short time they’d known each other – a little less than a week now – Hank had already come to know that murmuring as a sign of sleep. Which was fair enough, Hank figured, because he’d be behind the wheel in a few hours, and Hank would rather he be well rested for it. It was a little unfair that he got to do his sleeping in the queen bed in Hank’s own RV, but Hank had offered it to him and even insisted when Noah put up a modest resistance. If he was going to contribute, he deserved a turn with the bed, and besides, Hank had said, he wasn’t tired anyway so someone might as well use it. Turned out he was more tired than he thought, and sleeping in the passenger’s had made his neck sore, but he had only himself to blame. He had made his own bed. Kind of. So to speak. He noticed Ruby spare a glance away from her book and back to the bedroom as well. The way she smiled slightly – just slightly – when she had no reason to spelled trouble. T-R-O-U-B-L-E, Hank thought. “Sweetheart,” he said, distracting her. Her gaze swivelled to him. She raised her eyebrows a little high, and pursed her lips a little much to sell the ‘oh so casual, oh so innocent’ look she was going for. “Yeah?” she prompted him. “How’s the book?” “Oh – it’s fine,” she said. “Kinda slow.” “Keep reading,” he assured her. It was a private detective novel he had read years ago, and recommended to her when he found it at that outdoor magazine stand. “It gets good.” She gave him a placating smile, and her attention returned to the pages. If this Noah thing of hers was a problem, it was far from a permanent solution. Hank could understand it, almost. Noah was a good looking kid, even he knew that. Dark hair, intense eyes, dark reddish-brown skin made him slightly exotic. He was also friendly and even charming. Hank kind of liked him too. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have accepted him onto the Winnebago Brave that had become home to his family. The problem – well, one of the problems, and probably the biggest problem – was that Noah had a girlfriend. Though, Hank probably wouldn’t have approved regardless. After all, who knew how long Noah would even be with them, and besides, what dad didn’t have trouble seeing their little girl with a guy? It didn’t matter, though, because the point was that he did. He had a girlfriend. Her name was Alma and she was less than a mile away, leading the RV as a passenger in Andy’s Jeep Cherokee. Six days ago, Hank and Andy had run into Noah, Alma and a friend of theirs while clearing a gas station. Noah had recently fractured a bone in his leg, and was having trouble limping away from those dead things – those biters, those poor lost people who knew nothing but hunger and knew only how to spread their disease. Hank and Andy had acted fast, put a few of them out of commission, saved Noah’s life in the process. Soon after, the whole group got swarmed, and Noah, Alma and the friend saved Hank and Andy right back. Especially the friend. You wouldn’t know looking at him, but he was a demon in a fight. He must have killed more than a dozen rotters by the time he cleared a way through the crowd and back to the vehicles. His name was Lowell – whether that was his first name or his last, Hank didn’t know. He was just Lowell. And after that first meeting, everyone knew they had him to thank for getting them out of that debacle. So Hank agreed to take the trio on, spare a little of their food and water and give them a ride west. He could hardly not after what they had been through together. Riley suggested to him – not-so-playfully at the time – that he would have made the offer no matter the circumstances. She thought he was too good-natured for his own good. Charlie, you have a big heart, and I love you for it – but things are different now, she had told him. As if he needed to be told things are different. As if the hordes of walking dead people didn’t make that clear enough. Six days later, the decision hadn’t turned out to be a bad one. Even Riley had to admit that. Noah, Alma and Lowell didn’t cause any trouble. They even earned their share of the food and water by helping gather enough gas and diesel to keep their two-vehicle convoy moving. The RV had a diesel generator, and they had even helped gather enough stock to comfortably power to the stove for a morning. Riley was able to make everyone breakfast rolls. So that decision had been fine, but others – where to stop and when, what stores to scavenge from and which to pass by – had not always gone as Hank would have liked. More than once, he had put him and Andy in danger, which meant putting his family in danger by proxy. He would be glad when those decisions were out of his hands. Just another day or two, he reminded himself. He stood up from his chair, finally. He stretched out his arms and legs, then rubbed the crust out of his eyes. Then we’ll be back to civilization, like the signs say. “Alright, let’s do this,” he said. Riley smiled back. She put the signal on before turning off the road. Hank smiled at that. Old habits. “All yours,” she said, as she put the RV in park. They switched seats. Hank rolled his shoulders before putting it in drive again. Then we’ll be in Salt Lake City. * * * “Hold up,” The sun was up now, and Andy’s voice crackled through the CB radio. “Might be we have a problem.” Hank hit the brakes. He knew by now that he shouldn’t question Andy when he said there was a problem. He wasn’t one to cry wolf. Andy’s truck was about a quarter mile ahead of them, scouting out the road. It was nimbler than the Winnebago, so if there was trouble Andy could turn around and warn Hank to do the same before the trouble reached him. “What’s up?” Hank grabbed the transceiver from the radio installed on top of the dash. The radio hadn’t come with the RV, but had been there even before the biter apocalypse. Andy had custom installed one in each of their vehicles a couple weeks beforehand. It was meant to be in lead-up to a family road trip he was going to take with the Kelly’s. He was supposed to have custody of his two young children for a couple weeks, and they were all going to make the most of it together. It didn’t work out. The radios, though, had still come in handy. As did the RV – itself another recent purchase, a result of Julianne saying they needed to spend more time as a family and Hank agreeing. It had helped the family survive and stay on the move these past couple weeks. Helped most of the family, at least – something Hank would often think about with a pang of heartbreak. Heartbreak so strong, so intense, that maybe it wasn’t a bad thing that he dreamed about the ocean. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing that he didn’t put himself through seeing Julianne every night, only to lose her again in the morning. “Biters,” Andy reported back. It was an inadequate report, Hank thought, because biters were always a problem. Maybe they always would be. “How many?” Hank asked back. “I don’t know,” Andy answered back. “Too many.” That meant a horde, Hank knew. Or a herd, as Andy called them. A shit-ton any way you spliced it. “Can we get through?” Hank asked. He trusted Andy to give him a straight and accurate answer. If Andy said they could pull it off, they would try. If not… “Don’t think so, boss,” Andy answered. “They’re packed in like bricks in a wall.” “Okay,” Hank replied. “Then we turn back, go north for a little while. And Andy…” Riley was in the passenger’s seat. She caught his eye. As he spoke the next words, he saw her saying them right in sync with him, as if they were lyrics to a well-known song. “Please don’t call me boss,” he and Riley said. “Sorry, Hank,” Andy said. Hank put down the radio. He turned to Riley. She opened her mouth to speak. So did he. “You’re so predictable,” they both said. Hank smiled. I guess I’m not the only one. * * * Driving back east meant driving away from their destination and towards the rising sun, if only temporarily. It meant returning to Vernal, not a big town, but one of the biggest around in this relatively desolate part of America. It didn’t mean pulling over in a Motel 6, however. That was Hank’s idea. Something about the place had stood out to him and demanded further investigation. He had reported as much to Andy over the radio, and was waiting for his friend and colleague to join him there. “On my way, boss,” Andy said. “And I know, I know, it just slipped out.” The boss stuff was a remnant of two months ago, Hank thought, which was why he didn’t like it. Andy may have worked for him in their old electrical contracting business back in North Carolina, but now they were equals, striving to survive and get along together. “Don’t worry about it,” Hank said. When Riley wasn’t joking around with him, she told him he should just get used to it. She said that Andy looked up to him and always would. That they all looked up to him. That he was a leader, just like he was before, whether he wanted it or not. He was reluctant to accept that wisdom. “Dad,” Ruby said, interrupting his thinking. The tone in her voice made him uneasy. He looked to her, and then followed her finger to the window, which she had rolled up. Very quickly, he understood the source of her consternation. There was a biter outside, hobbling towards the parked RV. Whatever it was now, the biter was an old man once. There were tufts of white hair around its ears on the back of its head, but none on its scalp. Its face was probably already wrinkly before, but new lines and cracks had formed in its afterlife. Over its rail thin body, it wore a beige vest over a collared shirt and jeans. The outfit was stained now with black drool, the kind that coated every one of the damnable things. Two months ago, this could have easily been my dad, Hank thought – that is, if his dad hadn’t died more than 10 years ago. “Don’t let your brother…” Hank tried to warn her. “Dad…” Too late. “Dad,” CJ repeated, in his laboured, breathy voice. It was one of the only words he could say out loud. And since the need to say ‘Mom’ had dramatically and tragically decreased, it was the word he most often deployed. At almost six-years-old, he had severe hearing problems. He mostly got by with simple sign language, the kind Charlie, Riley and Ruby knew. His “Uncle” Andy also knew a fair few phrases. The world was going to be tough for CJ under the best of circumstances. Now, though… Hank hated to think of it. It was one of the many reasons Salt Lake City was so important. CJ couldn’t survive out here. He needed to live and learn someplace safe, where his family could support him without having to worry about a biter shambling around the corner. Ruby closed the blinds on the window and gave her dad an apologetic look. Hank just sighed and turned to his young son, who was clearly distraught by what he had seen. “It’s OK,” Hank mouthed and signed – two simple gestures. Then he added a few more complex ones. “I promise, it’s going to be okay.” CJ nodded back. Hank hugged him briefly, and then stood up. He moved to the cabinet where he kept his hatchet. Noah was up now, had been for a while. He stepped towards the cabinet as well and leaned in to talk confidentially to Hank. “I could take care of this, if you want,” he offered. After they first met, when they were catching up in the RV while fleeing a mass of ratters, Noah said he was 22. That was yet another reason he was bad news for Hank’s 17-year-old daughter, but it did mean he was more than old enough to handle a single biter. Hank might have let him, if not for his persistent limp – and for the fact that Hank felt an odd responsibility to do it himself. “Thank you,” Hank said, and he meant it. “But I’ve got this.” He grabbed the hatchet from the cabinet and gripped it with both hands. Then he headed outside. The old man biter was alone in the lot. Hank circled around the RV and faced off with it from a few metres away. It shuffled towards him slowly – even slower than others of its kind. Hank raised his axe over his shoulder and readied himself. He closed his eyes, in case the blood splattered against his face, as he had known to happen. This part never felt good. Always necessary, but never good. CHUNK! * * * When they entered the motel, Hank figured out why this place had stood out – someone had been here before, and recently. He didn’t know what tipped him off externally, but obviously something had, because the interior backed it up. Beds were unmade. Toiletries had been left behind. More damningly, it was clear of rotters. At least it was now. Blood and viscera remained in several rooms and hallways on all three floors. “Someone must have come through here,” Hank narrated his thoughts. “Multiple someones, most likely.” The people assembled included Andy, Alma and Lowell – most of the fighters of the group. Hank had waited for them to return in Andy’s Jeep Cherokee before he risked entry. Then he had cleared the hotel with them, waiting until he was sure it was safe before bringing in Noah and Riley. “Seems like a good guess,” Andy said. “All gone now, though.” Hank looked up at Andy – he looked at place here, in a new urban wilderness, a Mossberg M500 over his shoulder like it was a woodcutter’s axe. In a lot of ways, he reminded Hank of a cartoon lumberjack. Broad-shouldered, bull-necked, and barrel-chested. Hair on his face and on his arms. Appearance-wise, Hank was catching up to him. He hadn’t shaved in a couple weeks, and his hair was down to the bottom of his neck. He was on the bigger side, too, for a surfer at least – though it was the kind of big that came from lots of eating and lots of exercise, and Andy still dwarfed him. “Their stuff ain’t all gone,” Lowell said. “What do you mean?” Andy cocked his head. Hank looked at Lowell – in a lot of ways, he was Andy’s opposite. Thin, not particularly tall, features that others might call pretty. His striking blue eyes for example, and the way they contrasted with his pale skin and dark hair. He looked like he’d be more at place playing a vampire in a teen movie, or fronting a nu-metal rock band, than on a battlefield. If Hank hadn’t seen it firsthand, he never would have guessed at his ferocity as a warrior. “Look at this,” Lowell said, then walked off. He expected the others to follow, and they did. All the way to one of the rooms he had cleared earlier, where it became obvious what he meant. There were boxes of supplies. Bottled water, canned food, candy bars and potato chips. And other stuff too – at least one with what looked to be clean clothes. Clean was a rare sight these days, so they drew Eli’s eye. Lowell’s too, obviously, because that’s the box he went for. “Look,” he repeated. He produced a pair of leather gloves, and smirked as he put them on. Then he produced a folded up jacket. He tried that on, too, then held out his arms like he was modeling it for friends at a mall. “Pretty snazzy, Lo,” Alma smiled approvingly. Alma joined him in sorting through the clothes box. They were all men’s items, but those were the kind of jackets she wore anyway. Not that she wasn’t feminine in other ways. She had long hair and thin eyebrows, and a full figure visible even under the bulky clothing – though Hank felt like a creep every single time he noticed. She was in her early 20s, like her boyfriend. Lowell, their mutual friend, was a few years older. Hank still hadn’t heard the story of how they all knew each other. “Charlie, look,” Riley said this time, stealing Lowell’s line. She held up a can of pineapple slices. They were just like the kind their dad used to eat all the time. He would sit on his porch and take them right out of the can, two or three at a time. Pa Kelly used to love those things. Riley smiled wide, but Hank smiled more reservedly. He enjoyed the memory, but he also understood where this was going. He wasn’t sure that he liked it. Stealing from supermarkets and gas stations was one thing. Stealing from survivors was another. He told the other so in those exact words. Andy frowned – he seemed taken aback by the distinction, like it hadn’t occurred to him before. “Dude’s probably kicked it,” Lowell argued. “I mean, if he was here, he’d probably be here.” “He might have just left for a little bit,” Noah offered. “He might come back.” Hank was a little surprised to see and hear Noah go against his friend. “Where would he go without his stuff?” Alma countered. Against his friend and his girlfriend, apparently. “An’ why would he leave it all behind?” Lowell added. “He wouldn’t, is the answer – unless he was dead, or as good as. Guy didn’t even lock it up. If he thought he was coming back, why wouldn’t he have locked it up?” Hank couldn’t think of a reason, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. The notion of this man, whoever he was, coming back and finding all his supplies pilfered still bothered him immensely. “Charlie – Hank,” Riley said. The fact that she had made the correction was an easy signal that she was being serious now. “We could use the food. I didn’t want to say anything…” “We’re running low?” Hank furrowed his brow in concern. Riley was the woman in charge of inventory and rationing. She usually kept him up-to-date on their stock – she would let him know what they needed and what they didn’t, and what they would like if they could get it. Usually, she provided Hank and Andy with a list before they went out searching. Now, she shook her head. “Not low. Almost low. But this would get us to Salt Lake City and then some.” “I don’t like it,” Hank’s brow remained furrowed. “We don’t steal from the living.” “Who says this guy’s living?” Lowell challenged him. Riley glanced back at Lowell with slight annoyance, and then looked back to Hank. “Better this stuff goes to people who can use it,” Riley said. “Instead of letting it waste away here.” Riley wasn’t a big fan of Lowell. In private, she had confessed to not liking him or Alma, and only liking Noah slightly more than that. That she was siding with him anyway gave Hank pause. Everyone looked at him as he considered it. He knew he could say ‘no’ and that Andy, Riley, and probably even Noah would fall in line, especially since it appear he was leaning that way already. Lowell and Alma might not like it, but they would have to relent as well. The choice was Hank’s. “We’ll vote,” he said with a sigh. That was a choice in itself. He knew which way the vote would go. “I’m with you,” Andy gave him a serious nod. Hank nodded back, appreciative. Even if he voted no, however, he knew they still wouldn’t have the numbers. “I’m sorry, but we’re not in a position to pass anything up,” Riley said. “We have to take every opportunity we can get.” “Shit, yeah, seconded,” Lowell agreed. “Thirded,” Alma said, as she adjusted her new pilfered jacket. They both looked to Noah. He scratched at the stubble on his chin with his thumb as he thought it over. “Yeah, me too,” he said finally. Hank sighed for a second second time. “The yeses have it,” he conceded. “Let’s get to packing.” Guilt poked and prodded him as he picked up a box, along with the others. He figured they were probably right – the owner was dead or long gone, and wasn’t coming back. Still, he felt like he was in the wrong. He tried to ignore the feeling and think about something else. The ocean, for example. * * * Eli strode along the northern pasture, up a hill dotted with dandelions. His feet were killing him, but he welcomed the pain. At that moment, it felt just about right. Rest – what Annie had half-heartedly suggested he get, before he took off from the main house and she let him go – could wait. Eli knew what awaited him – who awaited him – when he closed his eyes. He was in no hurry to face them. The two rotters up ahead were perfect. They were lanky and not-too-tall. They were both dressed in denim overalls, but Eli figured those were costumes. They were probably guides, not farmers. Now they were out here stumbling after wild life, getting nowhere. Eli growled, catching their attention. They started marching clumsily his way. Eli readied Jimmy’s spear – which he had borrowed without the redhead’s explicit permission – and when the first rotter got close, he impaled him. The blade made a satisfying sound as it tore through the rotters gut and then emerged on the other side of it. Eli followed the strike up with a kick, knocking the rotter backwards. As it fell, he followed it with the spear. Ultimately, he drove the sharp end right into the grass. Then he pounded the spear by the other end, getting it stuck in there nice and firmly, so the rotter was pinned backwards to the ground. The other rotter was close now. Eli spun around just in time – he had almost moved too late, the kind of careless mistake he never would have made if it was 13 hours ago. If he wasn’t so tired. If his muscles didn’t ache so badly. He caught the rotter by its neck with both hands, keeping it at bay. Its head bobbed and thrashed wildly, spraying black spit. Eli held it there and stared into its empty eyes. He kept staring. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. The rotter lashed his arm out, and got a hand on Eli’s shirt. It snapped him out of it, and reminded him what he was out here. He pivoted and slammed the rotter face first into the ground. He held it there now, and put a knee to its back to keep it from squirming. In addition to Jimmy’s spear, he brought some rope, had wrapped it around his shoulders. He unwrapped it now, then used it to hogtie the rotter’s hands behind its back, then its feet together. He stood up. Both rotters were incapacitated now. His work was ready to begin. He drew his ka-bar, tapped his fingers along the handle. He had used it last night to saw off Cory’s finger. It would serve a similar purpose again now. With his feet, he rolled the hog-tied rotter over onto its back. It protested by rolling its head around its neck, but it couldn’t do anything else with the restraints. Neither could the nearby rotter pinned to the ground by the spear. They were both so pathetic. Eli looked up at the sun – already disappearing into the western horizon. Already setting on another day. Then he raised his boot over the rotter, and smashed his heel into its face. * * * Annie finally had a moment to herself. She used it to stare out at the rolling fields and take soothing, long breaths. She wiped away the wetness from the corner of her eyes. The last 13 hours had been excruciating. After stabilizing Jen in the back of truck, she, Nolan and Jimmy had returned to the others. They were happy to see her alive – but only so happy, because she wasn’t conscious and Annie was sure she had suffered injuries worse than the naked eye could see. Despite being unconscious, for example, her heart beat at a rapid pace. A sure sign of hypovolemic shock as a result of excessive bleeding. Annie wished she could have turned back time and got to her sooner, helped stop the flow before it got to that point. She just hoped she had stopped it before it got too far beyond. Please save her doc, Nolan’s quiet plea rang in her ears then and now. She had done her very best. Jen was in a room of her own now, resting like they all should be. Like Emmett and Brandon were, too. If those three were inclined to look on the bright side, Annie, they might consider that at least they didn’t have to walk here. Soon after regrouping, Annie and the other concluded that their battle with Cory and his mobile army had concluded outside a town called Manila. Before heading into it, they packed up all the supplies from the broken down van – which was too far gone for Antonio to repair – and put them in Jimmy’s truck. After that there was room for Brandon, Emmett, Jen, and a rotating driver. The others had to proceed on foot. So that’s what they did. For hours. Manila wasn’t much relief – the town was cleared out, nothing to find. Even the cars were stripped down. So the group kept walking. They followed the road back south, the way Eli and Jimmy came. At the split, they meant to go west, but a crowd of rotters in the distance, glimpsed through Emmett’s binoculars, meant they had to look east for shelter. Eventually, they found a sign and a parking lot advertising Swett Ranch. An historic pioneer homestead with a ranch and cabins, and acres and acres of grazing land. It was out of the way enough to seem perfect, and well – Annie had to admit, it wasn’t not. It paled in comparison to Brandon’s uncle’s house, which she missed dearly now, but it would do. Once they got set up, Annie made sure Brandon and Emmett were okay. She performed and administered the medicine and surgery she could, calling on Emily and Nolan for help. They were easy compared to Jen, but she tended to her to. By the time she left her, her heart-rate had slowed to a normal pace, but she was still unconscious. Wake up, Annie pleaded to her over her bedside. Please, wake up. The words made her think of Chase, and she wanted to cry. She kept saying them anyway, until she finally needed a moment to herself. Then she cried. Fortunately, she had finished crying by the time she was interrupted by Emily. She turned and looked as she heard the former cop enter. Annie didn’t know if Emily had sought her out, or if her intrusion was an accident. She didn’t mind. She realized she could use some company that didn’t require her immediate medical attention. “Hey Emily,” Annie said. “Forgive the cliché, but how are you holding up?” After all, the former-policewoman had only been with them four days. Three, really, since she left for one of them. She hadn’t been through the fighting at Flint or the chaos in the lab. Annie heard she had to shoot someone that day she was away – but she hadn’t been through anything like this. It was worth checking in. Edited by DoctorYerishi, 27 minutes ago.
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| Strompy | Sep 5 2015, 04:53 AM Post #2678 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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Emily laughed. A genuine laugh. It was a cliché. And what a question. She grinned and rubbed the back of neck. "Ahh... I have no idea. I am holding up okay. Sure don't know how though. Maybe I'm just too tired to be fazed by any of it." she confessed with a weary sigh, still smiling. It had been the most intense day of her life. It'd been a day of miracles too. They got Brandon. Worse for wear, really worse for wear but alive. Emmett, Nolan and Antonio sll survived their brush with death. And somehow beyond all hope, Jen was still barely hanging on with them. Everyone had expected them to bring back a body or nothing at all, instead they brought her back in critical cindition minus a foot and a hell of a lot of blood but still somehow alive. It put another cruel spin on what Eli had done to that guy on the bridge. They hadn't even lost Jen yet, it made what he did even more unjustifiable. Strange that Annie should be asking her and not the other way around, she'd just spent hours putting their friends back together. "You look like you could use a break. You know I've still got some grass left. You've more than earned a little indulgence. Just you know, so long as you're not on prescription meds or anything." she said with a chuckle that was more the result of fatigue than mirth, she was still a little pissed at Brandon and Willow for their lack of judgement earlier. She sighed and shook her head. Ultimately Willow's slip up hadn't really cost them. Brandon on the other hand... It was a pretty bitter lesson for both of them, Brandon in particular, he'd have a few permanent reminders. ... Brandon laughed weakly as he saw the place they came to. He was dreaming again. His daughter would be by soon enough. He was pretty beat up he didn't want her to see that. He was slipping in and out of conciousness while Annie went about addressing the bullets in his leg as well as resetting his nose. He wasn't even sure if they'd found Jen or if he'd imagined it. It sounded too good to be true so he assumed it was. A little while later though and he was resting in a cabin like the one he dreamed up. Everything hurt so he was sure he was awake. He pushed himself up to go to the window, leaning heavily on the nightstand. The laughter that came out of him hurt. This was real. With a smile he was too amused to feel guilty about, he lowered himself back into bed and fell asleep again. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Sep 5 2015, 05:25 AM Post #2679 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Annie smiled – even let out an involuntary chuckle. It was a bad joke in bad taste, but that was gallows humour for you. Annie might have been more used to it if she had been an ER doctor before all this went down, and not a paediatrician. If only she knew what was coming, she never would have let so many sick kids throw up on her shoes. “Sure,” Annie shook her head in a kind of ‘why not’ gesture. “Light it up… or, you know, whatever it is they say.” It had been forever since she’d partaken. Her first year of med school, if she remembered correctly. And since she wasn’t on Oxycodone – unlike a lot of the people here now, come to think of it – she couldn’t see a reason to say no. Even Connor was asleep and accounted for, and unlikely to interrupt after all the marching he did over here. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Sep 5 2015, 01:28 PM Post #2680 |
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Is that so?
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Nolan wasn't sure how many hours had passed. At some point, night turned into day and the entire day had passed them by. Now it would be dark again before too long. He wasn't really sure where the day had gone; he was slipping in an out of it throughout. With the adrenaline out of his system, his body was sore and pretty badly beaten from that crash. He remembered Annie giving him a quick physical to make sure everything was in working order; he remembered that she did clean up a few of the bigger cuts, but there wasn't much she could do about the bruising. The only thing that really required any special attention was the cut above his left eye -- down the forehead and through the left eyebrow -- which earned him a good eleven stitches. She was quick though, he was dressed and back with Jen within twenty minutes. "I was watching a documentary about people who survived near death experiences. A lot of times they had family or loved ones in there with them while they were fighting to survive. And these people would talk to them while they were laying there. After they survived, a lot of them said they could actually hear those people talking to them, even if they weren't able to actually physically respond." He had spent most of his free time sitting in her room and hoping. Annie had managed to stabilize her, but nobody knew if she was out of the woods yet. Nobody knew how much internal damage she had really sustained. Despite being stabilized, Nolan still felt like she was losing strength; every time he woke up from another one of his quick power naps (which he was spending in that room with her), she was a little more pale. She looked a little less healthy. Was it an infection? A broken rib stabbing an important organ? Or was it just the recovery process? "So, I don't know if you can actually hear me. Though, obviously, I hope you can. I know a lot of things were pretty weird between the two of us. And it was my fault. I was just... afraid of getting close to someone again. And I don't mean to imply that you and I were a thing or that we were in love or anything like that. Because I don't think we were. We were just two... two kids. We were alone in the world and we wanted someone. And for a night, we had that. It was a good night. But then I went ahead and ruined that with my own issues." She had been lying on the bed by herself. Annie had somehow managed to stop the bleeding in her leg and patched up the wound on her side, but she looked terrible. Nolan had set up camp by the bed in a surprisingly comfortable chair. Taking power naps on the floor wasn't exactly comfortable or safe. If she died and turned while he was asleep, it would be a lot of trouble. He considered the possibility, but leaving her alone felt even more wrong. Because if she woke up, even for a few minutes, he wanted to be there. And if she died, he didn't want her to be left alone. "I know it's not much of a mystery, but I was afraid of having someone close to me again. And the reason I was afraid of that was because I could have seen us getting close. I didn't dislike you. Not by a long shot. You reminded me a lot of Monica, and that was... endearing. And when I realized that... I just freaked out. Especially after I sleep with them since I am pretty selective about that. Only slept with two girls before you. One of them was a long-term thing and the other was... well, high school. But even for high school, it was pretty long term though. Because at the time, it feels like you'll be together forever. But then you go off to different colleges and have different dreams and you realize that it would never work." Nolan paused and sighed. He wondered if she really could hear him. It was making him feel a little better. He was starting to understand why people did that now. Talking to someone at bedside had a strangely comforting feel to it, even though logically there wasn't much going on. This wasn't a conversation. This was him talking to a comatose woman and hoping that she could hear him. "I guess what I am trying to say is... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being a tool. I want you to beat the odds and pull through this. Because I think you are pretty awesome. And I think we got off on the wrong foot. I want to try it all over again. I know asking for a second chance is a tall order... but it works in the movies. So I figured I would try it here too. Please wake up, Jen." * * * * * "Three aces!" Kelsey conspicuously placed three cards face down on top of the table. Willow narrowed her eyes at the young girl while Antonio merely looked at his own cards knowingly. Nobody reacted immediately and the three of them sat in an awkward stalemate. "Bullshit." Willow called her out on it. Kelsey grinned innocently while Willow flipped over the last three cards Kelsey had just placed. Two aces and a five. Willow slid the entire pool of cards into Kelsey's territory and the young girl went about scooping them all up while Willow went forward with her turn. "One two." She stated as she placed the card down. "Bullshit." Antonio's response was immediate. Willow took the card back off the table. She wished she could roll up another joint or get started on some more alcohol. The atmosphere was pretty heavy and she needed the relief. She knew Brandon was going to be okay, he just needed his rest. But Jen was still a wild card. And between one of her best friends and her boyfriend being incapacitated until further notice, having something take the edge off would be great. But weed and alcohol were both restricted to her right now. After what had happened last night, Emily and Annie were both pretty adamant than Willow stay away from mind altering substances. And she couldn't exactly blame them; at Mount Kisco she got high as a kite; in Canada, she got drunk off her walker the first chance she had; after Flint she started liking her painkillers a bit much; and then in Vernal she started mixing weed and Oxycodone -- which would have been a fantastic high in any other circumstance. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that self-control around drugs was not one of her strong suits. As a way to focus her attention elsewhere, she and Kelsey had started playing card games while waiting for Brandon to recover and Jen to wake up. Nolan was pretty dead set on making sure Jen was alright, so Willow took it on herself to make sure Kelsey was at least distracted. And she seemed to be enjoying it. As for Antonio, after Annie finished putting stitches on the top of his bald head -- four in total -- he came out here and requested to join. So they had started playing Bullshit. Kelsey in particular liked the game because it allowed her to yell 'bullshit' fairly often. "BULLSHIT!" Kelsey shouted when Antonio put down what he claimed to be three threes. Antonio smirked and flipped the cards over to reveal that they were indeed three threes. Kelsey accepted the three cards and added them to her already considerable hand. It turned out that just yelling 'bullshit' at every opportunity was not the best winning strategy. But it kept Kelsey happy, so Willow could hardly complain with it. A little levity was what everyone needed right now. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Sep 5 2015, 04:13 PM Post #2681 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Jimmy blinked groggily as he made his way to Jen’s room. He was tired, of course, after the events of Green River and the long, punishing walk that followed. It was his truck, so he spent the most time in the driver’s seat, but he ached a little anyway. He was surprised that so many people were up after that – and that their activity was loud enough to keep him up too. He wasn’t one to tell people to knock it off, however, and if they were having fun somehow, he was all for it. So he used the awake time to check in on Jen. She had been in bad shape when he, Nolan and the doc found her, and transporting her for hours on end couldn’t have helped. But Annie was a miracle worker, Jimmy knew that. Look what she pulled off with the other young woman in this crew. If anybody was going to get Jen to the other side of this, it was her, so Jimmy wasn’t writing anybody off yet. He opened the door just in time to hear the tail end of Nolan’s speech – and Jimmy just assumed it was a speech. No telling how long the kid had been there, but he looked settled in. “Sorry bud,” Jimmy raised an outstretched palm. A ‘my bad’-type gesture. “Didn’t realize she already had company. Want me to leave you to it?” |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Sep 5 2015, 04:33 PM Post #2682 |
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Is that so?
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Nolan glanced at Jimmy as he entered the room. He wasn't exactly surprised. People came in here to see how she was doing fairly often. Willow and Annie in particular had come by, as had Kelsey, though that was just as much to see Nolan as it was Jen. "Not at all." Nolan shrugged. "I was just..." Spilling my heart out? No, he didn't want to admit to that. That was too personal. It made him and Jen sound like more than they actually were. Which were a couple of friends who had known each other for two days and had sex this one time. When he thought about it like that, there really wasn't much between them. It was just lust and loneliness. There wasn't love in something like that. And he didn't want anyone getting the wrong idea about him and Jen. "Just keeping her company. It didn't feel right leaving her alone. She isn't out of the woods yet, after all." Nolan explained casually to Jimmy. The young man got to his feet, but could practically feel his bones and body creaking from the effort. It was definitely gonna take a day or two to get back in the groove. "I can step out for a bit if you want." |
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| DoctorYerishi | Sep 5 2015, 04:55 PM Post #2683 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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"No need," Jimmy shook his head. "Just driving by, wanted to see how she's doing." He nodded to her unconscious body. "Guess I have my answer." He shrugged. "How 'bout you, bud? Feels like forever ago now, but for a hot second it looked like you were gonna lay ol' Eli out. You still feel like you might?" |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Sep 5 2015, 05:10 PM Post #2684 |
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Is that so?
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Nolan smirked at Jimmy's question; it was definitely not what he was expecting. "Oh, I really wanted to. But now?" Nolan shrugged. "I've cooled off a little. Plus in the past month I've been shot in the forearm, starved out, shot in the shoulder, given a mild concussion, and thrown from a truck. Even at full strength Eli probably would have kicked my ass." |
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| DoctorYerishi | Sep 5 2015, 05:31 PM Post #2685 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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"Well that's true, but in my experience that's no good reason not to start a fight," Jimmy joked. "Bigger they are, right?" He smiled and shrugged again. He was glad Nolan was in a friendly enough mood, but fatigue was biting away at him. "Well then, I should probably get back to sleep," he said. "You should think about that yourself." |
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