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Dead Men Walking
Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (70,894 Views)
Make-7-Up-Yours
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Is that so?
Everything felt like a dream. Reality was replaced by a haze that Kelsey could not full comprehend. When Eli fired a bullet into Jen's skull and killed her, time felt like it stopped.

The truth was that time was still moving. Eli killed the other two rotters and freed Connor. Brandon was looking her over for bites or scratches -- she think he asked her if she was bitten, but the question was barely processed in Kelsey's mind. Her brother showed up too. The color was drained from his face. He was distraught, but he tried to hide it as he knelt over and tried talking to Kelsey. His mouth was moving, but she couldn't hear the words. Willow was leaning over Jen's body and Antonio stood near her with his eyes closed.

She had known people that died before. But this was her first time actually seeing it up close. With mom, her dad had simply hidden the fact from her. With Mac, she didn't see him get shot. Glenda and Maxwell she wasn't even there for and only heard about it later. Julie died while she was asleep. And even her dad was on the other side of a radio that she could not see. But this had happened directly in front of her. Jen had crawled at her as a full fledged rotter and been executed directly in front of her. Never before had the death of a friend been so up close and personal.

"I..." Kelsey finally managed to say something. "I don't wanna train anymore..."
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
As displays of panic and grief played out around Eli, he felt oddly calm. Somehow, he realized, this had become normal. Jen had died, and that was terrible, and he would have done anything to prevent it – would have taken her place in an instant, if he could – but it was too late for that now.

She was dead. She was dead before she came out here. He didn’t kill her, Cory did, all he did was end her suffering. He told himself that and he believed it.

Still, for some reason he still thought he’d see her again. Probably tonight.

He looked to Kelsey. He could understand her grief and shock. His instinct was to tell her where she went wrong. He’d have to tell Annie the same thing. They got lucky this time, but they couldn’t afford to hesitate again.

He was able to suppress the instinct, however, and simply give her a nod.

He realized he was still gripping the handle of his Supergrade. He let out a long breath, and then finally holstered it.

* * *

Jimmy drove the truck head-on into the lone rotter. He couldn’t help it, it was too tempting. It was like a bowling pin, and the last one standing between him and a spare.

He intended to stop around here anyway, so he hit the brakes as soon as he made contact. He smiled as the rotter flew backwards, its limbs waving through the air like a ragdoll’s.

He put the truck in park, and then hopped out. He took a step forward then peered around his vehicle to examine the damage – there was none, but some of the rotters insides had been hanging out before Jimmy got to it, and now some of that gore dirtied up the hood.

“You know, I always do that, and I always forget about the clean-up,” Jimmy narrated his thoughts.

Behind him, he heard the rotter groan. He glanced over his shoulder and saw it trying to roll over.

“Take care of that for me?” he asked, nodding to Emily, his passenger.

In the meantime, he went to fetch his sniper rifle from the back. It had the most powerful scope he owned.

I’ll get my best look at the incoming wall of rotters through them, he figured – and jeez, I’m calling them rotters now. What happened to deadheads?

This group was clearly rubbing off on him, and he didn’t know that he liked the idea of that. He told himself again that he might have to reconsider his circumstances. But later, of course, when he didn’t have a job to do.
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Strompy
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To be given that bit of hope only to see it dashed in front of them was devastating. None of them were unaffected by this. With pain that was quickly becoming a fact of life Brandon got back up. He walked past the others as they all wrestled with this. He wanted to hold them. Console them and be consoled. There was a ritual to observe first though, they could do this much for her still. He made his way to the shed and found what he was after. He limped back out with two shovels under his arm.

"Let's not leave her like this any longer than we have to." he said mournfully.

...

"I got it." Emily assured Jimmy casually as she stepped out of the truck.

She put her foot firmly on its chest and and drew her machete in one movement. She swung down at it, cutting straight through its frontal lobe then wiped the semi-clean on its clothes before sheathing it again.

"How many do you think there are?" she asked as she squinted at the wall of rotters in the distance.
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Is that so?
Nolan grabbed one of the shovels from Brandon. His face was blank.

"This is all I can do for her now." He told Brandon simply.
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Strompy
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"I'll go get some sheets for her, and get to work on a marker. You guys find her somewhere nice to rest and get started. We'll bury her right, together." Brandon said and he placed the other shovel on the ground.

He limped off toward the house. As far as resting places went, he'd be hard pressed to think of a nicer one. The others would find her a good spot, one with a really good view. If he survived this maybe he'd bring his family's remains there to rest. Julie's too. Glenda had been burned, Mac was lost, so was Randall. This was a lot more burials then anyone should have to think about. Would he have to bury Willow there too? The thought sent a shudder of grief through him and his composure slipped as a single sob escaped him. He was ashamed of his role in this. He was afraid for the future. At that moment he wasn't sure why he'd fought so hard to escape Green River at all.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Jimmy kneeled in the bed of his truck and used the roof as a perch for his rifle. He squinted through the scope, and tried to come up with a semi-accurate answer to Emily’s question.

“Maybe a little over a hundred?” he ventured. “Hard to tell. More than a few, is the headline.”

There were more than there were yesterday. In the hours since he’d last had a good look, the horde had picked up some new followers, like an annoyingly persuasive cult. Or maybe another, smaller horde had picked up their trail and merged into one, like two extra tropical cyclones.

To make matters worse – or at least inconvenient – the terrain was uneven and lined with forest, and was basically filtering the rotter procession in their direction. Their ranch hideout was out of the way, and chances are the rotters would march right past it anyway, but Jimmy had been surprised before. It would be better if they eliminated the risk.

When they got back, he’d ask Eli for that team again. Emily would likely be on it. She was pretty slick.

“We have some time, still,” he added to her, as her stood up and packed his rifle away. “Let’s check out the other fronts while we’re at it.”

He jumped back onto solid ground, and then adjusted the collar of his jacket.

“All aboard,” he said, as he returned to the driver’s seat.

* * *

In the morning, there were more biters. Damnit.

Hank shouldn’t have been surprised. There were always more biters. They had replaced taxes as one of life’s two unavoidable certainties.

Still, the area seemed clear in the afternoon, which was why he felt comfortable taking the rest. They had been on the road for days, rotating drivers, only stopping for half-hour chunks at a time. After the windfall at that motel – which Hank still felt guilty about, despite Riley’s repeated justifications – he had agreed to the plan to find a quiet spot and settle in for a while before continuing on their detour. The quiet spot ended up being in a skate park by a reservoir.

Hank figured it would do everyone some good to get a peaceful meal in, and he even agreed to power up the TV and watch an episode of Futurama with the kids, since Ruby had kept a DVD set. Andy had recovered some diesel at a nearby gas station and Riley had looked at their stock and okayed the expense.

And it was nice, Hank couldn’t deny that. So was his turn in the StudioLoft bed, which dropped down from the roof and turned the cab of the Winnebago into a second bedroom. He had taken that while Riley and Ruby shared the queen in the back, and Andy unpacked his sleeping bag and stretched out in the bed of his truck, happily catching some Z’s under the soft glow of the stars.

They didn’t all sleep at the same time, however. Riley insisted on that. She didn’t like the idea of Noah, Alma and Lowell being awake and unsupervised. Hank was pretty sure it’d be fine, but he recognized that pretty sure wasn’t totally sure, so he didn’t fight her on it.

Hank was the one keeping watch in the morning, when the biters appeared.

They couldn’t have been the same ones from the other night – the ones Andy had warned him about and they had backtracked to avoid. No way could those things have caught up to them yet, as slow as they were, and as dumb as they were.

That meant another horde, probably coming from the south. When he had realizations like that, Hank had to fight hard to stave off the despair. He had to rally his faith, and trust that one day there would be an end to this. Even if it didn’t seem like it now, one day Ruby and CJ would be safe.

Hopefully one day soon, he allowed himself to hope. Hopefully in Salt Lake City. Until then…

“Biters incoming, we gotta go,” he stormed through the RV, knocking on the open door to the bedroom, stirring his sister and his daughter from their sleep.

Andy and his truck were not far away. Hank could have walked. Still, he opted for the CB radio, which was even closer.

“Andy, biters,” he said into it. “A bunch of them.”

It took a few long, frustrating moments, for Andy to answer. “Shit.

“Yeah,” Hank agreed. “We gotta move. Are the others with you?”

He looked around, making sure that Noah, Alma and Lowell weren’t in the cabin, making sure his eyes didn’t just glaze over them in his urgency. They hadn’t. CJ was there, still sleeping, but no one else. There were just Kelly’s aboard.

Lowell is,” Andy said, then kept the radio on as he said, “Lowell, wake up, time to get out of here.

“Noah? Alma?” Hank asked.

Lowell, where’s Noah and Alma?” Andy said, which was kind of an answer in itself.

What?” Hank could hear Lowell’s groggy voice respond. “Shit, I don’t know.

Hank looked in the side mirror. There were a lot of biters coming, and the ones leading the pack were getting close enough that he could make out their facial features. He cursed himself for not noticing their approach, or hearing it, sooner.

“We don’t have time for this,” Hank said.

They’re not here,” Andy said. “I don’t see them.

Well damnit – Hank could think of one reason why a young couple would sneak off together, but could their timing have been worse?

He frowned as he thought about what to do. He looked again in the mirror. There were a few outliers to the horde – four or five biters that were making a bee-line towards the RV. Hank wasn’t sure if they were doing it on purpose or not. Even if not, they’d be there soon.

“Lay on your horn,” he decided, leaning into the transceiver and cringing.

Boss, don’t you think that’ll lead the biters right to us?” Andy sounded hesitant.

“They’re already coming right to us,” Hank said. “And we don’t have time to mount a search.”

There was a pause, then a long and very loud honk, as Andy did as Hank asked. Hopefully, Noah and Alma would hear that and get the message to rush back. Hopefully.

In the meantime, Hank kept cringing as he retrieved his hatchet. Riley was up by the time he had it gripped in his hands, and her face was painted with concern.

“Hank, what are you doing?”

“Take the wheel,” Hank told her. “Be ready to move.”

“What are you doing?” she repeated, more forcefully.

He didn’t want her to argue or try to talk him out of it, so he said, simply – “I’ll be right back! Be ready!”

He rushed out of the RV, as Andy let out another loud honk of his horn. When he was in the parking lot, Hank could see the mass of biters in the distance shift slightly in order to mark a more direct course to their location. The five rotters out in front – and there were five, Hank could count them clearly now – laid their eyes on him immediately.

He choked up on the grip of the hatchet and tried to adopt a combat-ready stance – though he had no idea what that was, really.

“Boss?!” he looked back to see Andy poking his head out the window of his truck. He looked as concerned as Riley. “What are you—”

“I’m holding them off!” Hank interrupted, finally answering. “Just stay where you—”

“Look out!” Andy interrupted him right back.

Hank spun around, realizing he had let the first of the biters get a bit too close. He swung his axe inelegantly, striking it in the side of the neck, cleaving it about halfway. The impact made it fall and land on the hood of a nearby car. Hank followed it.

The biter growled and gnashed its yellow teeth. If this was the first one Hank had encountered, he’d be petrified. Fortunately, he had just enough experience to keep it together. He held the biter down with his free hand and choked up on the axe even more with other, then grunted and gritted his teeth as he pulled the blade out – and brought it down again, this time square in the biter’s forehead.

He took a step back, just in time for the next biter to arrive and challenge him. Hank brought the hatchet down again with one hand – again, right into the forehead, ending its un-life.

He pushed the dead biter’s chest with one hand and pulled with the other, freeing the blade. His adrenaline started pumping in earnest. Two more biters neared, almost side by side.

BANG!

Hank ducked, taken aback by surprise. He looked up to see the two biters still coming.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

His eyes were still on the biters when a bullet struck one in the chin, followed by another bullet striking it in the side of the head. It spun 80 degrees and went down for the count.

BANG! BANG!

Two bullets, one right after the other, drilled the other rotter above the eye. It crumpled like a marionette with no strings.

Still ducking, Hank dared to look over his shoulder. He saw Lowell leaning out the passenger’s side of Andy’s truck, a grim look on his face and his P220 Combat gripped steadily in his hands. Hank gave him a grateful nod, and then looked back.

One more, then dozens more, he realized. The dozens were about 30 seconds behind the one.

“There they are!” Andy’s voice cried out.

Hank turned around yet again, and indeed, there they were. Noah and Alma, looking flustered, were darting through the skate park towards the RV and truck. Noah was struggling to keep up with his limp.

One more time, Hank turned to face the incoming rotters. With both hands, he swung his hatchet, downing the last of the leaders. As soon as he kicked it free, he turned tail and darted back to the RV himself. The engine roared to life as Alma and Noah boarded before him. It started moving before he even closed the door.

* * *

An hour after Eli put the bullet in her head, Antonio and Nolan had finished digging Jen’s grave. Eli stared into it, and not at the body, as everyone gathered round.
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Is that so?
Antonio ran a hand across his head; careful not to touch the cut on top of his head that was closed up with a few stitches. He and Nolan had only just recently finished digging the hole. Nolan was pushing himself but, despite Antonio's protests, he simply refused to back down and give himself some rest. He remembered the conversation that he'd had with the young man recently about getting attached to people. He was sad to see that the decision had already come back to bite him so hard.

"I did not know Jen very well." Antonio started a fairly unconventional eulogy. "But I learned a little bit about her while I was teaching her how to maintain cars. About how she lost her friends and her family in the early days before finding Flint. Despite her hardships though, she was a tough woman. The way she smiled and brought energy into everything gave her a natural way with people. I am going to miss having that energy around."

Antonio sighed deeply and used the moment to collect his thoughts. He had never had to do anything even resembling a eulogy before. He didn't see himself as giving a eulogy though; he saw himself as remembering a friend. All he was doing now was remembering Jennifer West for the person that she was.

"She told me once that she was determined to stay alive and see this whole thing through. And that she wanted to learn as much as she could to facilitate that. To see how this ended for her... I am disheartened. I am crushed to see a bright flame like hers snuffed so swiftly. All I can ask for now is that our God above accepts her into his arms and reunites her with those that she has lost. For her, at least, this nightmare is finally over."

He glanced to signal that he was finished. Willow had been crying earlier, and while her tears were gone, the redness in her face persisted. Nolan looked like he was trying to hide the pain he felt behind a stern demeanor, but it was impossible for him to hide the pained look in his eyes.

"You were a great friend, Jen..." Willow managed weakly. "I don't think I ever told you that though. You... genuinely looked out for me... and God, I wish I told you how much that meant."
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
People could assure him otherwise everyday but Brandon would never be able to rid himself of the feeling this was his fault. He completely let his guard down and ran off recklessly for a trinket. If he had just not been so stupid Jen would still be here. What if she wasn't the last person he'd see buried. He imagined who among them might be next. Every one caused their own unique pang of worry as he imagined his remaining friends occupying that grave.

This was somehow worse than when he lost his brother. There was the appalling guilt, but worse than when he lost his family he now felt he only had more to lose. In the middle of all of this turmoil he'd found people he loved and trusted. Now he'd hurt those people with his stupidity.

He put his arm around Willow. She and Jen had only known each other a few days, but he knew very well the value a few days had now. People you can trust were few and far between even before all of this, and Willow had found somebody she had a strong connection with. That somebody was dead now. As for Nolan, Brandon only had to look at him. He'd risked reaching out and paid for it. Jen had found people too.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Eli didn’t have anything to add. Neither did Emmett, who hovered nearby on his cane – talking had never been his thing in general, after all, and Eli wasn’t surprised that this occasion didn’t bring it out of him. It seemed to Eli that the big guy shared his weariness.

And Eli was weary. Another dead friend, another grave. He didn’t even have the energy to be sad. He didn’t have the desire, either. Not after the one-two punch of Randall and Julie – who was pregnant, something still that only he knew. He didn’t have any more sadness to give. And besides…

Sadness would be a waste right now, he decided. I can be sad later.

Instead of making him sad, he vowed to let Jen’s death serve as motivation. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, let this happen again. No matter what it takes, he told himself, he needed to get the rest of his friends to San Francisco.

No matter what it takes.

* * *

“Just don’t do that to me – to us – ever again,” Riley said.

She’d been repeating that request – that order, really – or some variation of it for almost an hour now. Seeing Hank go head to head with those rotters, and come so close to the horde had really disturbed her. To hear her tell it, he was a second-and-a-half away from being overrun. He didn’t think so, but maybe he was. The wall of shuffling, decrepit bodies had gotten frighteningly close by the time he turned around and dashed back to the Winnebago.

He tried to tell her that he didn’t have a choice. Either he dealt with those rotters in the lead, or Noah and Alma would have had to. And he soon after found they didn’t sneak off with any with any weapons. He had to cringe at the foolhardy nature of their youth.

“Of course you had a choice,” Riley told him.

And yeah, fair enough, Hank thought. I could have chosen to leave them behind.

“I’m supposed to be a leader,” Hank shot back. “That’s what you’re always telling me.”

“You’re supposed to be a leader to us,” Riley said. “Your family. Andy.”

The conversation had been conducted in harsh whispers. Alma and Noah were further back in the RV, and neither Riley nor Hank wanted them to overhear.

“I thought it was cool, dad,” Ruby had said earlier, at least. “You were pretty brave.”

So at least there’s that, Hank figured. My daughter thinks I’m cool.

Hank also worried that she was jealous. Of Alma. Of Noah and Alma.

Ruby put on a happy face when talking to them, but when Hank glanced at her in the rear-view when she wasn’t looking, he didn’t like the look she adopted when she stole glances at the couple. He liked her looks at Noah by himself even less.

"We need you," Riley said. "They don't."

Hank got up from the passenger’s seat, tired of this conversation.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he said, hoping his sister could be placated with that.

Riley gave him a look – half-apologetic, half-still-annoyed. It would have to do.

Hank headed a couple steps back to the dinette, where Noah and Alma were calming their nerves with two cups of cool coffee. Ruby had stepped aside to use the bathroom, and Hank took her seat.

“So… Tough morning, huh?” he tried to break the ice.

Noah gave him a nervous smile, Alma just leaned back and sighed.

“Yeah,” Noah said. “Look – we’re really sorry about that.”

Hank raised a hand. “Hey, I get it,” he said. “And you know, I’m not your dad, I’m not trying to…” He didn’t know where he was going with that, so he trailed off. “Uh, point is, until we get somewhere safer, we should make sure someone always knows where we are. And if you do go off alone, or in pairs… Just make sure to bring protection.”

Noah blinked. Alma arched a narrowed eyebrow. Hank winced.

Weapons,” he corrected himself as fast as he could. “Guns, knives.”

Alma slowly narrowed her eyebrow. “Okay,” she said. “Understood.”

“Thank you, by the way, for waiting for us,” Noah added. “And for holding off those biters.”

“Yeah,” Alma agreed. “That was badass.”

* * *

Jimmy had driven further south than he originally intended. Far enough that he even considered just keeping on driving, going back to Vernal and getting his stuff on this trip and sparing him from having to go on another. He might be cutting the horde business pretty close, but he was pretty sure he could manage it.

The only thing that made him pull over was the thought of Eli. He was a mite unpredictable these days, and he had made it implicitly clear that he was calling the shots. He might get mad if Jimmy deviated from the plan, and Jimmy wouldn’t care about that, normally, but he also didn’t really care about the supplies. They could wait a night. They didn’t represent a hill he had to fight for, or die on.

So he pulled off road at the crest of a hill, and then trekked up a little to get an even better view. He didn’t see any rotters – if there were any, they were too far away. He didn’t see much of anything except open road.

He was about to pack it up. He was literally counting down from 30 in his head, giving the universe just that much time to alert him if there was anything he needed to know.

He reached the count of 0. There was nothing, so he lowered the rifle and jogged down the hill to his truck and to Emily.

He passed a sign that said ‘WATCH FOR FALLEN TREES NEXT 4 MILES’. He laughed – as if that’s what we need to watch out for right now.

* * *

“How’d that go?” Riley asked when Hank re-joined her in the cab, about 15 minutes after he left.

“Awkward,” Hank answered.

Riley smirked – he guessed she was finally getting over her anger over how he put himself in danger. At least, she was getting over it long enough to enjoy his discomfort.

“It was good advice, you know,” she said, casually.

He groaned. “You heard…”

“Protection is important,” she said.

He shook his head but smiled regardless. He did want to move on, though, so he picked up the transceiver.

“Everything cool?” he asked.

Looks like,” Andy reported. “I’m going to burn some rubber, make sure we’re okay to head west. I’ll be right back.

“Don’t get too far,” Hank said. “And don't take too long.”

He didn’t like the idea of Andy being out of radio range at all, never mind for an extended period of time.

I won’t, and I won't,” Andy assured him. “An’ I’ll be careful.

Hank put the transceiver down. Like always, he would trust Andy to follow through on that part.

Maybe 10 minutes later, he and Riley both smirked at a sign they passed. ‘WATCH FOR FALLEN TREES NEXT 4 MILES.’ He would love to live in a world where fallen trees were his biggest problem.

* * *

While they were out, Jimmy and Emily also checked the 191 heading north-east. Rotters could come from that direction just as easily as any others, after all. Fortunately, they weren’t coming. Again, Jimmy reported blue skies figuratively and literally.

It didn’t mean the road was safe, of course. In another day or two, it could be chockablock with rotters or raiders or a million other dangers that the group hadn’t even encountered yet. That was in a day or two, though. If they weren’t gone – if Jimmy wasn’t gone – they would worry about it then.

“Alrighty, let’s get back to base camp,” Jimmy said to Emily as he hopped back into his truck once again, enjoying the familiar feeling of the leather seats.

They made it to near the end of the two-lane freeway, and took a right hand turn into an off-road leading back to the ranch. In his head, Jimmy was thinking about the rotters incoming from the west. He was considering the many ways they could handle the situation, trying to figure out which would be the most fun and which would be the most safe and what was the best combination of the two he could achieve. Then a more urgent threat broke his concentration.

Jimmy heard the engine before he saw the truck it belonged to, and he instantly unpacked two things – his Desert Eagle and his monocular viewing device. He put the truck into park, then gripped the pistol with his good hand and steadied the monocular with his other.

* * *

Boss, you should come take a look at this,” Andy had said, not long after turning back once again. “Tell me what you think.

“Hank,” he had replied.

Huh? Oh, right, Hank, come take a look at this,” Andy said.

A few minutes after that exchange, Riley had caught up to Andy’s truck, which was now parked off a dirt path. Andy and Lowell stood outside it, near a sign advertising the historic ’Swett Ranch’ including hours of operation and number for the National Forest Service.

“Could be perfect,” Riley said.

A little earlier, Andy had reported that they weren’t okay to head west. There were even more biters blocking the way, and the roads were too narrow to punch through them without risking serious injury to their vehicles. It was bad news, especially since biters were coming in from the south as well.

Riley was right, though. This discovery was good news. Andy might have stumbled upon the perfect place to wait out the coming storm.

“Could be,” Hank agreed. “Let’s check it out.”

“Cool,” Lowell said, loading back into the truck with Andy.

Soon after, Hank was back in the passenger’s seat of the RV. He stared through the windshield, as Andy led the way down the winding road.

* * *

A Jeep Cherokee was approaching. An RV was not far behind.

Jimmy focused in on the man behind the driver’s seat of the Jeep. He was a beefy guy, with a scruffy beard and broad shoulders. His passenger was smaller, dark-haired and cute in an emo sort of way. There was something familiar about him in some way. There was also a shotgun leaning in a standing position between them.

“The truck has two passengers, I don’t know about the RV,” he reported to Emily. “They’re armed.”

Not that being armed meant being bad. Jimmy was armed. Emily was armed. The whole group was armed. Even the kids were armed. It was a deadhead apocalypse out there, after all.

Still, it was a tricky situation. Jimmy had no reason to start a conflict – the people in those vehicles could just be people, never done anything wrong in their lives, on a journey to safety just like everyone else.

At the same time, the truck was getting closer, as was the RV, and if Jimmy did nothing it would drive right past them and onto the ranch proper. Jimmy wasn’t a big fan of that idea. They didn’t have the red stripe, but that was far from a guarantee they weren’t from Green River.

There are no guarantees, he realized, and that’s what bugged him at this moment. It didn’t always – sometimes he welcomed the unpredictability – but right now it was kind of annoying.

These guys could be bad, they could be good, they could be the shoot-on-sight kind of people or they could be the talk-first kind. No matter what they were, they were about to pull up to Eli and the other’s new hideout and probably take them by surprise. It had all the potential to be a bad, bad scene.

Jimmy put down the viewing device and looked to Emily. He cocked his head. A pretty classic ‘Any ideas? kind of look.

Then he remembered his radio, and wished he’d remembered it earlier. They were probably within calling distance now.
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
"I'll radio ahead and let the others know so they can get in position to get the drop on them. Pull the truck over out of sight and once they pass we follow them. We'll have them surrounded and the road blocked. Then... well I guess we hope they have a big problem with dying." she said as she picked up the radio.

"Guys. Heads up. Two vehicles inbound. No Green River markings. Over." she relayed the important pieces of information over the radio.

They would assume they were armed and that they could be hostile. She also couldn't give them a number of potential hostiles either. That RV could be holding a whole mess of them. This could be bad, hopefully not for her people though.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Okay, pretty good, Jimmy thought. Now everyone has the facts. Now they can get ready.

Emily’s plan left a lot to chance, though, Jimmy wasn’t thrilled about that. She was also a little too optimistic for his taste. He doubted that Eli and the gang could get set up so quickly. The two-vehicle convoy was about to pass him, and they would be at the main, five-room house pretty quickly after that.

Chances were, however, that these strangers weren’t loaded for bear. It seemed unlikely that they knew there were people there already, and if they did know, and if they meant those people harm, Jimmy would have to assume they’d have a better way to go about it than driving right up to them.

But damn, there was that annoying unpredictability again – Jimmy also had to ask himself what the hell do I know? He had to remember that some people are nuts and that their true best self-interest wasn’t always their guiding compass.

The truck got close, the RV got close behind it. Jimmy frowned.

He weighed his own options. Should I? Should I not? were two of them.

Ah fuck it, he decided, after a second, maybe two seconds, of careful consideration.

He leaned out the window and fired up and above the truck. A shot across the bow, so to speak. The friendliest warning he could give, when it came to giving warnings with a powerful semi-automatic handgun. He hoped they would appreciate that.

They didn’t.

Jimmy saw the pistol in time to duck behind the dashboard.

* * *

Hank flinched when the bullet rang out. He had no idea where it went or where it came from, but he turned and told Riley to get down, then turned and told everyone else to do the same.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Hank’s head spun forward again, and he saw Lowell leaning out the passenger’s side, once again gripping his SIG P220 with both hands. Before Hank could even process what was happening, the kid was returning fire.

* * *

Eli’s radio piped up with Emily’s voice, and he felt an immediate hit of adrenaline, shocking him from his funereal stupor. He and the others were still outside with Jen’s remains, but Jen could wait, because vehicles inbound meant people and people meant danger and Eli had just vowed to keep the rest of his people safe. Already, he thought, that vow was going to be tested.

His hand went to the holster on his belt, and he opened his mouth to bark some orders, then gunshots rang out. He felt an even stronger hit and he drew his Supergrade.

“Damnit, get ready!” he said, and led the charge back into the house.
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
Doooon't. Emily thought after Jimmy fired his warning shot.

Unfortunately they weren't going to oblige her. She hit the deck the same time Jimmy did. Glass rained down on her as the windshield shattered. She turned her face away from it with a very grumpy expression.

"Oh you fucker..." she muttered angrily as she grabbed her rifle.

...

Emmett was supposed to be resting. Willow was supposed to be resting. The kids should have been able to have a day that didn't involve running or hiding or fighting. They should have been able to bury their friend in peace. Nothing about this day was going right and now this. Brandon was operating under more than just alarm, he was outraged.

He grabbed his carbine and the Thompson from the van, tossing aside his cane and gritting his teeth as he awkwardly ran to the house. Breathing raggedly he tossed the Thompson to Eli and prepared his own weapon as he leaned heavily against the wall next to a window facing the road. He kept a wary eye out for the first sign of them.
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Make-7-Up-Yours
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Is that so?
Antonio let out a forlorn sigh as he shoveled another scoop of dirt into the rapidly filling grave. He was surprised that Annie had not said more. Then again, Nolan had said little publicly either though, so perhaps they were merely mourning in their own way right now. Perhaps Antonio was only able to speak because he was far enough removed that he still could speak on her behalf.

How messed up the world has become.

The two of them had the hole roughly halfway filled. Before the dirt had covered her body, Antonio thought it was kind of insulting. Her clothes were stained with dirt and blood, her head and face were covered in wounds, she was just a mangled version of herself. After the few days he had known Jen, it was just unsightly. He was glad that she was out of sight. That relief was short-lived. The word of others coming to the ranch sent a new chill down Antonio's spine.

But was that chill for Eli's group or for this new group?

It didn't matter. Antonio dropped his shovel and went back for his shotgun. Regardless of what happened, somebody needed to keep an eye on Eli. And he might be one of the only people willing to work toward a compromise if these were indeed good people. Eli might not be able to see that. Or at least he didn't trust Eli to see it on his own.

* * * * *

Shit, why is this happening again?

Willow's heart raced at the warning. More people? Already? She thought they would be safe here, at least for a while, but that turned out to just be an illusion too it seemed. They had already lost enough these past few days, and now they could possibly lose more. She wouldn't allow it. She couldn't allow it.

"Come on, Nolan." Willow shouted to the young man, who was now frantically filling the grave with the last of the dirt.

"I'm useless in a fight anyway." Nolan said sadly. "I'll be right behind you guys. This will only take another minute."

Willow frowned, but didn't argue with him as she turned to follow after the others.

* * * * *

"What's going on?" Kelsey asked whoever was willing to listen.

She had been sitting quietly in the house and thinking when everyone barged in and started to arm themselves.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Eli was able to holster his Supergrade again and catch the Thompson just in time. He realized Brandon had the right idea. They needed to meet this threat with heavy firepower. Gone was the time of messing around and giving the benefit of the doubt.

Eli took up position near a window in the living room. He could see the truck outside. He could hear more gunshots, and see the arms of a shooter leaning out of it. He aimed the barrel of the rifle over the windowsill and fired back.

BANGBANGBANG!

He put some holes in the truck – a Jeep Cherokee, he could identify now – below the windshield.

* * *

We’re under attack!” Andy reported through the CB, as even more bullets rang out, some striking Andy’s truck.

Hank was at a loss. Since this started, he had fought plenty of dead humans, but never a live one. They had encountered several before Noah, Alma and Lowell – including one tight-knit group hiding out in the basement of a church they stumbled across – but they had always exchanged warnings, never bullets.

“Wait!” he said back into the CB, not understanding how it could escalate to this so quickly.

Too late, he saw Andy open the door on the driver’s side and step out. Before he could yell at him again, Andy was standing and aiming his Mossberg M500 over the roof, in the direction the first shot came from.

* * *

Still ducking, Jimmy gave Emily an apologetic shrug. He wasn’t sure who that “fucker” was directed towards – him for starting it, kind of, or whoever these guys were for shooting back. It pretty much could apply to both of them.

CH-CH-BANG!

Jimmy cringed as a shotgun blast exploded against his windshield, not shattering it, but making a huge spider-web in the middle, too opaque to see through.

“Son of a bitch,” Jimmy cursed sharply as he ducked down again.
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
Emily fired a burst from her rifle into the air shattering what was left of the windshield. She raised the rifle over the dash, pointing it in the general direction of the incoming fire, but kept her head down. Her gun was scarier than theirs and had far more bullets.

She could hear rounds coming from the direction of the ranch and the sounds of impacts nearby.

"STOP SHOOTING, YOU ASSHOLES!" she bellowed, both into the radio and out at these others.

...

"There are people shooting at us again. Go to the back of the house with Connor and Annie and keep your head down." Brandon ordered Kelsey.

He turned and smashed a small hole in the window through which he rested the barrel of his carbine. His hands were shaking from exhaustion and he was still breathing hard. He somehow felt even weaker now that his body had been allowed to rest a while than he did when they were being chased.

He blinked hard and tried to push through it, gripping his gun firmly and holding his breath as he lined up a shot on the one of the assailants by the Jeep. He exhaled and squeezed.

"STOP SHOOTING, YOU ASSHOLES!" Emily's voice rang out over the radio.

Brandon's finger froze in place. He looked over at Eli with an uncertain expression.
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