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Dead Men Walking
Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (70,852 Views)
Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
Brandon struck Leonora over the head with the Supergrade and she slumped forward stunned unconscious.

"Jesus! We need her alive, Brandon!" Emily objected.

"We just need them to think she's alive actually. She'll be sore but fine. I don't want her knowing where we are in case she can somehow manage to get a message out. Patch her up, tie her up, gag her and put her somewhere uncomfortable. We'll hold onto the sedative for a while, could be handy down the line. I need to go take a shit." Brandon explained.

Brandon closed the door and sat down on the cramped toilet of the RV. What he'd just said were lies. He didn't hit her to knock her out, he didn't want to save the sedative for later and keeping her literally in the dark was only a secondary concern. He hit her because he wanted to. Because what she said scared him and he wanted her to shut up. He was afraid. He'd been afraid ever since this started. He'd been in pain, and he felt weaker than when he'd been shot through the gut. He'd just hid it all as best he could.

They had almost no food with them, no doctor to patch them up and they were going to war with an unknown enemy. Nolan was dead. Kelsey and Eli were God knows where, and they'd be expecting them in Nevada. He was supposed to lead the people they had left and even though he spoke with certainty he didn't feel it. He had no idea what he was doing. Worst of all, they had Willow.

What the fuck are we going to do? What do I do?

He curled up, put his head in his hands, and cried silently.

"Fuck." he whispered despairingly.

He cleared his throat, sat back upright and took several deep breaths. He wiped away at his cheeks and eyes. He eventually did what he said he needed to and by then he'd regained some of his composure. He just needed to keep faking it. He didn't know if what he was doing was correct or not, how could anyone. He wagered none of them had any real idea of how to proceed, so whatever he had to suggest was about as good anything else. If he could just seem like he knew what he was doing it would at least relieve the others of at least some of their burdensome worry.

He looked himself in the mirror and recalled doing the same thing over two weeks ago, before he got to Mount Kisco. What a difference a fortnight can make. His hair was cropped short, it was a little patchy too from where Annie had to shave his head to address the gash made by that flying brick. His face wasn't as bad as it had been a couple days ago. The bruising was more brown than angry reds and purples now. He took off the eye-patch to see his the whites of his left eye were still blood red, he could only just open it to see though due to the swelling which likewise was better today. He washed his hands as sparingly of the water as possible, and washed his face just as conservatively. Looking at himself again he was hit by a small annoying yearning for a way back, before all of this. Before the rotters and the cure, even before Willow, back when things were boring.

Can't go back, don't want to either. Found something too good for that. he thought as the image of his old self faded from his mind.

He emerged from the bathroom and immediately made his way to the back of the RV in search of a new shirt.

"Hey, Hank. I know the situation has changed but you know how you said you'd give us the RV? You're not, ah, too attached to it are you?" he asked as he found himself an oversized flannel number.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Hank was in the midst of turning the RV around when Brandon emerged from the bathroom – his family was north, so he might not have known his next step, but he knew it was in that direction. He glanced back at Brandon, noted his new shirt, and then thought about his answer.

“I’m, uh, pretty attached,” he said. “But I’m more attached to my family. What are you thinking?”

Andy had stashed Leonora in the wardrobe in the bedroom. He had followed Brandon out – and like Brandon, seemed equipped with a brand new resolve.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” he said. “I’m thinking we kill Leonora and forget the trap. I don’t care about the people behind us, I care about the ones in front of us. Every second we waste is a second Riley and the kids get further away. Now that we know where they’re going, that’s where we gotta be."
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
"We may need her alive incase they ask for proof she's alive. If we don't have her, all we have is either fighting it out or sneaking them out, I don't fancy our chances of either. We fight, all they have to do is threaten our families and we'll stop. We try to sneak in and out, we'll probably get busted and killed. Leonora's still our best chance of getting them back. They want her, and we want our families. Our families don't want to stay with them. Ideally, they get Leonora, we get our people we go our seperate ways. I don't think it'll go down like that though. They'll want Leonora first, so they can kill us all and keep our families, obviously. They will try to fuck us, so we have to fuck them harder and first. I need to think." Brandon said.

Idaho was a while away still, they had nothing but time to think of a way to handle this, but they had no information yet about what they were up against, so making plans now was likely a waste of energy.

"Right now we have to deal with the guys following us. If they catch up to us we're sunk. They'll want to handle the situation now themselves rather than wait for us to reach Idaho and be dealt with there. They also want revenge, so they're definitely coming after us right now. We need to find the right spot for this, then we pull over, make it look like car trouble. If I were them, I'd probably have several cars going by different routes. I'd also assume we'd found out about Idaho, so I'd know to look north. Their scouts spot the RV and radio it in, but because we have Leonora they won't move on it until they have backup, maybe one or two other cars. They'll come at us in force, from all sides. We won't be there. But we'll be close. Really close. We catch them in a crossfire, maybe kick it off with a couple petrol bombs, RV gets shot to pieces but so do they. Then we take their cars, which are probably faster but more importantly not what their friends will be on the lookout for." Brandon mused.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
“You just want to let them get away?” Andy asked, incredulous. “They have a head start, sure, I know, but maybe we can still catch up. I mean, we gotta try! Who knows what they’re doing to them while we’re fooling around and setting traps?”

Hank frowned as he drove. He didn’t like thinking about the answer to that question. And yet…

“They’re on a train, Andy,” he said.

“I know that! But still – it doesn’t mean we can’t try. This is the kids we’re talking about.”

Hank was offended by his tone. “I know what we’re talking about,” he said.

Andy hesitated, adopted a look of remorse. “Shit, I’m sorry, I know you do, I just…” he trailed off. “I mean, who says an ambush would even go our way? There were still a lot of them back there, and there’s, like, four of us who can stand up straight enough to shoot a gun. No offence, Emmett, but you didn’t look like you had all the blood in the world to begin with.”

“I can fight too!” Connor interrupted suddenly. “I keep telling you – I can shoot.”

Andy looked at the kid, and then back to Hank. He shrugged. “Okay, five. But still – do you really wanna shoot up our only set of wheels?”

It was Hank’s turn to hesitate. He thought that point was definitely worth considering. The Winnebago had served his family faithfully over the past couple months, had kept them safe and in relative comfort. He didn’t like the idea of risking it on a gamble like Brandon’s plan. He had even grown a little bit personally attached to it.

But it was like he told Brandon – his family had to come first.

“I think Brandon’s right,” he said. “They’re probably coming after us right now. We can’t worry about them and the train, it’s too much. But maybe – maybe they’ll just stop if we let Leonora go. Alive. Maybe they’ll call it a day.”

“Yeah, right,” Connor scoffed – which Hank was surprised by.

“They won’t stop,” Emmett grunted his agreement.

“Okay, maybe that’s true,” Andy said. “But even if we pull over now, it could take them hours to find us – shit, it could take them all night. We’re just gonna kill that kind of time?”

Hank grit his teeth as he nervously considered that, and the rest of the points on the table. Then he closed his eyes tight, trying to blink away the indecision.

“Brandon,” he said, finally. “Is there a way we can speed your plan up? So we don’t have to wait for a scout, and then wait for backup? Is there a way maybe to get them here sooner than that?”
Edited by DoctorYerishi, Jul 7 2018, 07:50 PM.
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
"We could always just radio our position to them. Tell them we've broken down and been surrounded by rotters. Demand they come help. They'll be confused when they get there but they'll still have to move in because it's chance to get her back." Brandon suggested.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Hank nodded, considering it. It was certainly on the right track.

“But won’t they know something’s up as soon as they get here?” he asked. “When we’re, uh, not surrounded by rotters?”
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
"Let's get some helpers then." Emily said.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Andy cocked his head. “Helpers? Do you wanna, you know, finish that thought? What are you talking about?”
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
"Let's call in the creeps. Gore suit ourselves up, find a big bunch of them. 'Wreck' the RV and then make some noise to draw them in. Then hide out nearby." Emily explained.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
There were a couple things about the plan that disturbed Hank. First, there was the ‘gore suit’ part. Back at the ranch, it was disturbing enough to paint the walls of a house with that stuff, never mind putting it on his own body. Then, even if at all went right, Hank didn’t like the thought of what would happen next. They would have to kill more people. Not rotters, people. It felt like too many had died today already.

Then he thought about his sister, his son, and his daughter, and his resolve hardened.

“It could work,” he conceded. “And if we do the noise part right, we don’t even have to bother with the radio. Leonora’s guys will get the message clear enough.”

“Yeah, but remember the part about doing it fast?” Andy reminded him.

“We can do it fast,” he said. “Look.”

He gestured with his chin to the road ahead, where a pair of biters had heard the RV approaching, and were now ambling down the middle of the street, heading right for them.

* * *

Connor couldn’t contain himself any longer. He tugged on Brandon’s shirt and looked up at him.

“When we do this, you have to let me help,” he declared. “I know what we talked about, but it’s my mom. She’s in danger. I have to help.”

Instinctively, his fingers tapped on his holster, which he had retrieved from the armoury back at the hotel, which Andy was retrieving Patrick. Back then, Connor had also reclaimed the knife Brandon gave him, as well as the Glock his mom had been using. Additionally, he had filled his backpack with the remaining pistols laying around – they used to belong to Lowell, he believed – as well as all the ammo that could fit.

As far as he was concerned, he was ready for war.

* * *

Hank just kept driving towards the biters. Andy noticed and grabbed the kitchen sink to steady himself.

“You sure you wanna do this, boss?” he asked. “It’s your family, it’s your RV. It’s your decision.”

Hank didn’t slow down. The decision was made.
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
Brandon's first instinct was to tell Connor "no". He made promises to his mother, and he held the very same thing against Eli. It was his mom though. He told Connor she was one of his responsibilities, and that he should only fight if he had to. When would he have to fight if not now? Still the idea of arming a kid to fight other people... felt instinctively wrong.

He didn't answer for quite a few moments. What if he just got Connor killed? What if leaving him out got him killed? A stray bullet could just as easily kill him if he was shooting back or not, and another gun on their side was a greater chance of victory. They really had their backs to the wall now, they were desperate. Could he also deny Connor the right to fight for his mom? Could anyone have denied Brandon the right to fight for Willow? Did he owe it to Annie to keep her son from it? Would Connor even care for his permissionor was this something he had no control over? If that were so wouldn't it be better to have it happen on his terms, and under his supervision?

Brandon rubbed his face in frustration. He reached for the weapons bag and withdrew the AR15 they'd brought with them from Paterson. He shortened the stock as much as possible and then held it up in front of Connor as he knelt down to look at him at eye level. If he were going to fight he wouldn't be taking a peashooter.

"AR15. Semi-automatic. 5.56 NATO. This is the safety, this the mag release, you've got thirty rounds to a magazine. Way heavier than what you're used to, bigger kick too, so use the fore-grip and fire from a prone or crouched position with your arm braced against something for stability. When it starts, you stick to me like glue and you do everything I tell you straight away. As always, be mindful of where you point it." he told him before handing the gun over.

It was done. There wasn't a clear right or wrong anymore. Maybe he was a hypocrite now. maybe he just betrayed Annie, but he had no idea how he was supposed to keep Connor safe from himself. All the worry and fear about it boiled over and he reached out and pulled Connor into a hug.

"Like glue. This is an exceptional situation. This is a rare exception, okay?" he demanded.

Please, God. Help me.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Connor was silent for a moment as he admired the new, bigger gun he had been gifted. He looked up at Brandon thankfully, and then returned the hug.

“Okay,” he said – sounding serious, like he was making a promise. “I…”

Before he could finish his sentence, the RV shook violently as it collided with the rotters ahead. Connor and Brandon were rocked where they stood. Andy held on tight to his grip on the sink. A splash of gore splattered the windshield, and Connor looked up in time to see two bodies fly backwards.

Hank hit the brakes, and Connor felt himself lurch forward again. For leverage, he held onto Brandon with one arm.

When they were stopped, Hank put the RV in park and turned around.

“Get ‘em,” he said.

Andy nodded, and was the one first out the door.

“So that’s the ‘gore suit’ ingredients taken care of,” Hank said. “Now how about that noise?”
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Make-7-Up-Yours
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Is that so?
Antonio steadied himself against the wall as the RV came to a stop after hitting a pair of fallen.

During the discussion, he had remained quiet. For one, he was busy stopping the bleeding on Emmett with his limited skills, which was enough of an endeavor already. But beyond that, he didn't want to take part in the organization of the plan they were putting together -- despite all that these people had done, he still had reservations against luring them into a trap to kill them. It seemed unnecessary. And while he might normally speak up about his thoughts, this time he did not. He did not trust his judgment enough anymore to advise against it. He would cease giving his opinion and stay away from any executive decisions until he felt he was in a better place.

"It sounds like we are going to be ambulatory again soon." He quietly said to Emmett. "I've done about as much as I can. Can you stand on your own?"

* * * * *

Willow crawled up off the ground again and managed to sit herself up from the ground. She was glad she hadn't fallen in her vomit; that would just be insult to injury at this point.

"You're wrong." She looked up to Gregory defiantly. "You're part of the problem... without even realizing it."

A part of her knew that it would be better now to be compliant. But after everything that these people had put her through, she couldn't bring herself to do that. She may have been beaten and injured, but she wasn't about to kiss this guy's ass.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
“I know you believe that now,” Gregory said, giving her a patient smile. “And I suppose you think yourself wiser than our leader. But let me ask you this – did you predict the rise of the fallen? Did you prepare for it diligently? Because he did. And look where you both are now. He commands an army. He’s reclaiming the world. He’s leading society into a new dawn. And where are you?”

* * *

Hank glanced over to Emmett when Antonio addressed him. The big, bearded guy was no less pale, and he seemed to be sweating even more profusely.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said.

Hank was pretty sure they should worry, but they were also pressed for time. He looked back to Brandon.

“So,” he repeated. “We need to make some noise.”
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
"Siphon off the tank. We'll do some shooting, make a fire a two. The smoke will help them find us. We'll make it look like a warzone. Their concern for her is probably going to get the better of them, they'll hopefully come in loud, use up a bunch of ammo clearing out the rotters for us and rush in to check out the RV." Brandon explained.

Emily was already in the back going through the linens and blankets in the RV. She began cutting them up to serve as gore-ponchos.

"There's a vest in my bag. Connor should have it." she informed them and Brandon gratefully took her up on that suggestion.

...

Just like on the border out of Canada they pooled a small amount of gas and placed what was left of the .303 ammo there by a bush to the side of the road near the RV. Everyone was gored up in makeshift ponchos and bandannas that protected their hair and clothes from at least the worst of the filth. Everyone looked a little green around the gills, though it had to be Emmett and Brandon who looked the worst, though Brandon suspected he was fairing better than Emmett despite his typical stoicism. Brandon hated the idea they could lose the man now after everything he'd survived so far, though he himself wasn't exactly in the clear, he could still develop an infection from even his more superficial injuries.

Emily lit a match and dropped it, igniting a trail of gas that snaked its way toward the small ammo box. Everyone took cover and the waited for the gunfire to abate. They'd have a few minutes before a dangerous number of rotters appeared, and even longer still until the others turned up looking for them. After the last round went off an eerie silence fell on the scene as the bush was engulfed in flames. It took mere moments for a faint chorus of moans to start growing.

"Okay. Let's find ourselves and the nice lady some good spots. Two of you set up in that house and stuff her in a closet there, use whatever you can find for cover, mattresses, dressers, couches, anything. Connor and I on the upper floor of that office ahead, and the other three back the way we came, using those concrete dividers and cars for cover. I'll open things up, on my shot let 'em have it." Brandon said with the seeming of the confidence he didn't actually feel, which was a lot.
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