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Dead Men Walking
Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (71,051 Views)
DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Eli looked at the unconscious man’s body as he hesitantly stood back up. Once again, Willow had proven herself to be quick on her feet. He was glad she came.

“You’re probably right about that,” Eli responded to Randall. “I guess that means it’s time to go.”

He took a step towards the door, but then stopped when a thought struck him.

“They’re coming in here after the meeting,” he said, his eyes narrowed as he thought about it. “To sort through the stuff they stole, that’s what that guy said. I’m betting they notice this guy out cold on the floor pretty quick. We should move him.”

If the base went on high alert before they had a chance to leave, their escape would be much more difficult. Anything they could do to prolong that period was worth doing, Eli figured.

“I got an idea. Randall, you take one arm, I’ll take the other. If anyone sees, maybe it looks like he’s injured and we’re getting him help or something.”

Eli leaned over, grabbing one of the man’s arms and wrapping it around his shoulder. He held it there and waited for Randall to lean down and do the same. Before Randall could, however, Eli got distracted again.

“Actually,” he said, pausing once more. Another weapon caught his eye. A shotgun, this time. By the time Eli got a closer look, he was pretty confident it was Mac’s Beretta A303 – the one Brandon had gifted him from his home selection. Mac was carrying it at his time of death. If Eli believed what that kid had to say, it even played a large part in causing it. Someone must have only just deposited it here.

Eli remembered what Brandon said a little while ago. Those bastards shouldn’t take anything away from this but regret. Eli agreed. He couldn’t take it all back, but he could take this, so he grabbed it by the barrel.

Now that he had remembered to, he also glanced by the pistols for the fancy HK Mac had on him. He had no immediate luck, however. He figured one of the attackers had probably kept that one for himself. It was probably in a holster or pocket that very moment.

Still, they could count themselves fortunate they found the shotgun. Eli held it out for Randall to take. Willow had her carbine, Eli his assault rifle and a hand taken up by the canister. Randall was the most logical choice to carry it out of here.

“It was Mac’s,” he said, even though he was sure Randall probably knew.

He frowned. The temporary joy from finding the cure had been effectively drained from the room at the mention of that name. Eli grabbed one of the man’s arms again.

“Use your other arm,” Eli instructed, nodding at the shotgun in one of Randall’s hands, and then at the body they were about to carry. “Let’s get out of this rat’s nest.”
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While Eli was busy looking over Mac's shotgun and such, Willow's curiosity drove her to open up the new box the man had just brought in. It was mostly food, but laying on top of it all was her old backpack! It was a distinctive pink and green backpack, so there was no way she would be able to get it out of here without drawing attention; but she did want a few of her things. She opened it up and sifted through her possessions. To her relief, her Game Boy Color was still in there as well as the carrying case for it and her games! She scooped the whole thing up and placed it around her shoulder like a purse. That thing not only represented a lot of her childhood, but it was her only source of passing time and escape. Apart from the second item she found that she had been looking for, the small can of unsmoked blunts.

She held them in her hand for a few moments before smiling slightly, dropping them back in the bag, and tucking the whole thing back into the box and closing it back up. I don't need them anymore.

"Alright, let's go." Randall's confirmation drew her eyes back to the door where Randall and Eli were carrying the injured man.

She got back up and gave them a nod. Since they were both carrying a weapon in one hand and an unconscious man in the other, she opened the door, peered out into the hallway to make sure that it was clear, and then gave them the okay. It was time to go.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Eli and Randall were on the move, the unconscious man between them. His feet lightly dragged across the ground as they headed out and left, back the way they came. Time seemed to move slowlyas they crossed the courtyard where they were most exposed. Inwardly, Eli's nerves rattled while outwardly, he put on a stoic face under his hoodie.

Thirty seconds later -- which felt like thirty minutes later -- they had passed the main gate. They headed for the shadow of the first building when someone rushed past the gate behind them, and headed in the opposite direction. Eli almost froze up from the surprise, and had to force himself to keep moving and not look back.

He reached the door to the kitchen, and was about to let Randall hold up their prop alone for a moment so he could open it. He swore he heard a noise inside, however, so he made a judgment call. He turned and looked at the wall.

"Just keep going," he said, and took the lead once more.

Behind them, Eli could hear whoever had rushed in open a door, and then he heard the door close. A promising sign, at least. He and Randall kept dragging the man forward. There were a row of doors and a staircase ahead of them, and almost any one could open and reveal another one of the men and women in the community. All Eli could do was hope that didn't happen.

It didn't happen, fortunately, and Eli and the others finally reached the other side uninterrupted. They ducked around the corner of the building, by the staircase they had entered the Officer's Quarters. It was finally safe to remove the dead weight, so Eli and Randall set him down against the wall. Eli let out a sigh of relief.

"Alright, we go back the way we came," Eli instructed. "Just watch your footing."

He headed to the short wall they had to haul themselves over to reach the grounds. He stopped again, however, when he heard a nearby door open and a commotion ensue. He took cover behind the corner of the wall and looked over.

"Everyone to the hospital, right now!" Paul's voice chimed out. "Get your weapons and go! Don't worry about the fuel. Our people need to know this debt has been paid!"

Paul and a stream of the fighters that had earlier unloaded the stolen supplies emerged from the barracks, all of them jogging or outright running. Eli's face fell and once again, the glimmer of hopefulness he was feeling dimmed. Whoever it was that passed them at the gate had arrived with very distressing news -- they had found the others.

Eli wanted to start running, but he had to wait until the crowd was out of the courtyard. There were too many potential witnesses now.

He watched in worried silence as the small army went in and out of the Quartermaster's Room, many of them emerging with long rifles in hand. They were probably too amped up to notice anything was missing right away, which was a very thin silver lining.

Then Eli saw Evan head for the Quartermaster's Room too, and his worry again curdled into anger. Before the kid could reach the doors, Paul grabbed him by the shoulder, forcing him back.

"You're not coming," Paul said definitively. "You've got guard duty in the morning. Go to your room, get some sleep."

"I'm not a kid," Evan said. "I can help. I... I can make this right."

Paul shook his head, and took a step closer to Evan, so he was right in his face. Clearly, he wasn't in the mood to argue this. "Go to your room. We'll talk about this later."

With that, Paul headed off himself. Evan stood there for a moment, before sulkily walking off in the other direction. Eli stopped breathing for a second and he felt a confused pang in his heart as he watched Evan walk off by himself. He realized, then, that this was the best chance he would ever have to get him alone.

The other fighters all jogged for the gate to the backyard. Presumably, they were all running towards the visitor's centre, and the parking lot with their vehicles. Then they'd head in force to the hospital and more blood would be spilled. Eli, Randall and Willow had to stop that somehow. And Eli had a decision to make.

"You have to beat them to their cars," Eli said, and dug into his hoodie. He produced two of the three grenades he stole, and presented them to Randall. "Whatever you have to do, don't let them drive off."

He leaned around the cover one more time to see Paul and the last of the fighters disappear behind the gates. There was literally no time to waste, and no time to come up with any more of a plan.

"Go now!" Eli said. "Don't waste a second! I'll be right behind you."

With that, Eli dug his hands in his pocket and pulled his hoodie tighter. He jogged like he had seen the others jogging, but not towards the wall. Instead, he headed for Evan's room.
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Randall wordlessly accepted the grenades and stuffed them into the pockets of his hoodie. There was no time to argue or debate, no time to even think. Everyone knew what this meant. They had to stop these guys from getting to the hospital.

"Willow, with me!"

If there was one good thing to come of this riled up state, it was that he and Willow did not stand out in the least. Everyone was pouring out from every corner of the facility, weapons held ready in a way that reminded Randall of a witch hunt. The fact that the two of them were outsiders was never even registered among the crowds they were running with. But as far as Randall was concerned, these people saw them as nothing more than witches to be burned at the stake. The very concept of that made his blood boil; those bastards shot first and yet they were still the bad guys here! The principle of it alone ticked him off. He told himself what he was about to do was not personal; it was simply to ensure the survival of his friends. But that wasn't true. It was very personal.

It appeared that everyone was meeting out in the Visitor's Center before heading out to the parking lot. A small mob of riled up people were already rearing and ready to go. That delay was the very thing that Randall needed. Randall broke off from the majority of the mob, assuming Willow was on his tail, and made a break for the now unguarded wall.

"Where is Eli?" Willow glanced over her shoulder.

"He said he'd be right behind us!" Randall shot back. "Just trust him! He knows where to go!"

It turned out getting down the wall was a lot easier than climbing it. It was a bit of a drop, but tossed Mac's shotgun down, sat on the edge, and then shimmied his way down to ground level. Willow followed suit after him and they were safely back outside the walls of Old Fort Erie. He couldn't feel safe yet, though. There was one thing left to do. He and Willow ran along the wall until they hit the parking lot; situated just outside the premises. He could hear the riled cries of the people just on the other side of the walls, but he did it best to ignore it. For now, the parking lot was empty.

Already, Randall was formulating an idea in his mind. There was the moving truck and the black 4-door Sedan from before; two pickup trucks, a red Toyota and a white Chevy parked right beside one another; and farthest away an older black Ford Explorer next to a Jeep.

"The Ford Explorer." He told Willow. "Run over to it and find the keys. I bet the cocky bastards keep the keys in the vehicles to make organizing things easier. If not, then just slash the towers and try the Jeep."

"Okay." Willow didn't argue.

With that one exchange, Willow sprinted straight towards the Explorer and the Jeep while Randall diverted course and went for the pair of trucks first. He pulled the first grenade out of his hoodie and prayed that it still worked. With one quick toss, he threw the grenade along the ground, where it skipped and bounced, coming to a rest directly underneath the chassis of the red Toyota.
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
"Please srand up and throw out your weapons." Julie called out.

For a moment they made no movement other than ti turn to eachother and exchanges looks and some hyshed words. Not wishing to tempt fate, or more accurately Glenda, Julie spoke more forcefully.

"You know I said 'please' but what that actually meant was 'do it now or we'll fucking kill you'!" she clarified.

With visible resignation the pair go to their feet and threw their guns away. One of them, the thirty something white guy in the Buffalo Bulls football jersey, threw out a rifle that Brandon recognized as the New York compliant AR15 varient. The same kind of gun his dad owned before he made it less than compliant, the one Andre had claimed. His friend was a hispanic guy almost a foot shorter but wider in the shoulders in jeans and flannel, he threw down a break-action shotgun.

Julie and Brandon exchanged a sharp nod and strode out of the building towards their new friends with their pistols raised, Jeff and Max following. Brandon concealed that he was wounded as best as he could, maintaining his pistol form and trying to ignore how much pain he was still in. Julie moved a little less deliberately, but held herself in a way that implied she was completely serious.

"Get their weapons, if they so much much as twitch we'll drop them." Brandon said to Max and Jeff.

"Now keep your hands on your heads and walk inside." Brandon instructed once Jeff and Max had their weapons. Brandon gave a thumbs up in Glenda's direction as they walked back. Once inside they marched toward one of the offices.

"Strip." Brandon ordered simply.

They looked uncertain. Brandon cocked his pistol. They complied. Their clothes were searched and then returned to them. Jeff and Max then secured them to two office chairs, Jeff tying solid knots. Glenda came into the room, likely having gone to check on Kelsey first.

"So far so good." Brandon informed her.
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"Well, all things considered, that could have gone infinitely worse!" Max breathed a sigh of relief.

"We aren't out of the woods yet." Glenda warned everyone.

These two young men looked scared. Glenda had no words for them though. They were associated with those that killed Mac and they were only alive because of Brandon and Julie. However, she could not deny the strategic importance of the hostages.

"Brandon." She turned her attention to the young man. "Let's go. You guys make sure these two thugs don't try anything stupid. We aren't losing any more lives today."
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Eli made a bee-line for the door he saw Evan enter. With each step, his thoughts clanged louder and more violently around his head. What am I doing? he wondered. What am I doing!? What the fuck am I doing?!

As he ran, another one of the fighter’s from the bridge passed him on the way out of the Quartermaster’s Room. Eli kept his face forward and hidden by his hood, and the man was too distracted to register him. Eli was able to keep going, and his trepidation was able to keep rising.

He opened the door to the room before he had time to talk himself out of it. Instead of his doubts, he thought of Mac and the brains he had spilled on his truck. When he got a good look at the brick wall and the line of wooden bunk beds in front of him, Eli realized now that he was doing now the exact opposite of what he wanted to do before he found the cure. He was putting himself in unnecessary risk. He was likely to get himself killed.

Getting close to people, going on the mission to Chicago – he had been afraid of that for a reason. It wasn’t physical self-preservation. It was dangerous everywhere, a solo mission to Canada wasn’t going to change that. No, he was afraid of something else. He was afraid of this.

Those thoughts washed away when he saw Evan. They were replaced by the burning anger that had ignited in fits and starts since the bridge, but had been constantly brewing.

The kid had been pacing around the room, and when he saw Eli his face fell and he froze. Maybe he recognized him from the bridge. Maybe he knew what was coming.

With his free hand, Eli drew his pistol. He raised it at Evan, who shrunk back, his bright blue eyes wide. He raised his hands forward, like he was surrendering and asking Eli to stop all at once. Eli inhaled.

“Wait, don’t--"

BANG!

* * *

When he stepped back outside, Eli heard the explosion and the world came rushing back. For too many moments there, he was lost. He had forgotten why he came here and what for, and he forgot the urgency of the situation. Now that he remembered, he had to wipe away every feeling but fear. He had to get out of there.

There was no more point in being sneaky. After those grenades went off, the fort would be on high alert. All that mattered now was clearing the wall.

He took off down the wooden path leading into the sally port. The ground suddenly dropped out again around him, but the walkway was level and he continued through and into the enclosed space. Darkness surrounded him for an instant before he emerged on the other side, and continued down the dirt path towards the wall.

POP! A rifle round went off, and exploded some grass a a metre away from Eli’s feet. He jumped, startled, but kept going. He was wide open now. Someone in the main building must have looked out their window and seen him running where he had no reason to be running.

POP! Another shot sounded off, and more grass flew up, closer to Eli this time. Maybe the first shot was a warning shot. If he was one of the rightful denizens of this place, he probably would have stopped and identified himself, after all.

Eli cleared a wooden wall in the courtyard, and flung himself behind it and out of sight from the shooter, hopefully. One more shot popped off, but he didn’t see where it went. He took a few deep breaths, then started running again, this time for the outer wall.

Fortunately, getting out of the fort was going to be a lot easier than getting in. From the inside, the ground rose to meet the wall. All Eli had to do was run up it, and then leap off. It would be a steep fall, but not deadly or even crippling. If he landed the right way, he’d be fine.

Eli remembered too late that getting too high would expose him to the sniper from the buildings again. He was about to jump when another shot sounded off. It didn’t hit him, but it caused him to hesitate. It was too late to recover or stop, so he just stepped into the open air.

He landed and fell over. Not rolled – fell. He immediately tried getting up, but stumbled on his first step. He recognized the sensation right away. He rolled his ankle, and it now it hurt to walk on it. He’d done it before, playing basketball. He was confident he didn’t break it – he’d done that too, and it felt different – but the timing was still incredibly unfortunate.

He knew he was only making it worse as he started running again, cringing and grunting but otherwise ignoring the pain. He’d worry about that when he was sure he wasn’t going to get shot in the back, though. He headed for the parking lot, hoping to catch up with Randall and Willow, or assist them if they needed help.
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"Let's go. Don't take your eyes of them." Brandon needlessly reminded Julie and Max as he left the room.

Jeff had gone upstairs to keep a lookout for friends or trouble. Brandon wondered how the guy was taking all this, he had looked a little green around the gills after the incident at the border. There wasn't any time to catch up with him about it though. He and Glenda had to move fast. Brandon was able to run, with no small amount of discomfort. He hopped into the passenger seat with a grunt, and resisted the urge to clutch his abdomen.

"I think I saw a house with an open garage on the way here." he suggested as Glenda climbed in the driver's side.

...

"We should gag them, if their friends come then they can't call out and give us away. Here, found this in a maintenance closet down the hall." Julie said, holstering her pistol and producing a roll of duct tape from inside her sling and handing it to Max.

She quietly congratulated herself on her forethought.
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The earth-shattering boom of the first grenade going off reverberated through Willow's entire body. Any element of stealth that they had was now gone. The panicked war cries of the entire camp now echoed through the night and the sound of gunfire quickly followed. This is it.

She grabbed the door of the Explorer, and surprisingly enough it opened. She jumped in the front seat; finding the keys took no time at all as they were literally dangling in the ignition. They must have felt really comfortable if they left the keys to their cars in the ignition. Although under normal circumstances, nobody would ever get close to this place without their knowing. She twisted the key and sure enough, the engine came to life.

BOOM!

Another grenade and another cloud of fire. Randall's second grenade went off and, presumably, took some cars down with it as well. By now, gunfire was ringing through the night air. Her heart slammed inside her chest, but strangely enough she was able to stay in control. She was able to think. And the first thought in her mind was They could still follow us.

She opened the door and sprinted around to the Jeep. She pulled the keys out of the ignition and threw them as hard as she could out of the parking lot. As she did, a stray bullet pierced the front windshield of the Jeep. She jumped back into the driver's seat SUV and shifted the gear into reverse. She quickly backed out of the parking space, Randall literally jumping into through the passenger side door in mid-motion.

"We gotta get Eli!" He pointed to the area near the wall where they had entered the parking lot from, and sure enough, a solitary figure limped into view. "GO GO GO!"

She didn't need Randall to tell her; she floored the accelerator and sped towards Eli; the rain of gunfire be damned. It felt like she was back in the SUV at the bridge, the sound of gunfire aimed at them echoing over everything else, except this time they were less organized, farther away, and she was behind the wheel.
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"That could work." Glenda agreed as she sat down behind the steering wheel and turned the truck on. "I'm not much of a stickler on where we hide it, as long as it is somewhere accessible."

Following Brandon's instructions, she found out that the house was not far from the hospital at all. Just across the street as a matter of fact. The garage was both big enough to house the truck, and it also had a door that they could close in order to hide it. They could hide the truck right under their noses and they would never know. Glenda liked the idea a lot.

"Good catch." She thanked Brandon as she pulled the truck into the driveway and nestled it into the garage.

**********

"Of course. Good thinking!" Max took the duct tape. "It is always the beautiful women that have the good ideas."

Maxwell ripped off a couple of pieces of duct tape.

"You brutes have done a very good job of keeping quiet thus far, but I do not believe we are going to trust that you will stay that way when your friends show up." He placed one strip of duct tape over the mouth of the Mexican and then the second over the mouth of the white guy. "And that settles that. Now I suppose we just play the waiting game."
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
There was another explosion, this time within Eli’s view. A ring of orange and red fire punched through the night air, and a pillar of gray smoke went up, obscuring his view of the visitor’s centre – which worked out for the best.

Eli grimaced as he kept pushing himself, the pain in his ankle crying out for them to stop. More gunshots started to ring out, much like back at the bridge. Eli thought about firing back, when he noticed a Ford Explorer was driving in his direction. He initially reached for the trigger of the AR15, ready to hold it up and spray bullets inexpertly with one arm to defend himself.

When he saw Willow behind the wheel, however, he released his grip and let the rifle fall back in its sling. He was relieved. This was becoming a pattern with him. Fear, then relief, then more fear, then more relief.

The SUV came to a stop beside him, and he opened the side door and practically dove in.

“Thank you,” he breathed, as the SUV started moving again. He turned around and shoved the door shut.
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Brandon breathed hard as he and Glenda raced back toward the hospital, breaking into a sweat more from the discomfort than the effort. They stopped as a low rumbling sound pierced the quiet air. Then there was another. Brandon exchanged a concerned look with Glenda and continued on at a slightly faster pace.

...

Shameless flatterer.

"You talk weird." Julie said, her poor grammar an aytempt to nettle him.

Of course none of that was a criticism and she smiled a little despite herself.
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Thankfully, the fires and smoke billowing in the parking lot helped obscure their movements some, but despite it a few stray gunshots bounces off the hood of the car as they picked up Eli, startling Willow.

"Get us out of here!" Randall spoke the obvious.

Willow didn't need him to tell her that. As if the sound of gunfire coming from the fort was not motivation enough for her to get out of here. She floored the gas and steered the car towards the exit.

**********

"We should get ready." Glenda simply said in response to the distant sounds of conflict.

**********

"It is not weird! Merely educated!" Maxwell explained. "Although I suppose reading gratuitous amounts of classic literature through graduate school does tend to elicit a more colorful pattern of speech. A pattern that would seem 'unusual' to most."

He cleared his throat.

"Hopefully I am not being too verbose for your understanding?"
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"Naw I get you, bruh." Julie responded,

The sound of the explosions reached them.

"What the fuck?" she exclaimed.

A few moments later Glenda and Brandon came running back inside. He and Glenda began considering the map of the first floor, on the wall to the side of the reception desk.

"Max! We need you! We're gonna block off the entrances, here, here and here, so they have to use the front. Use anything you can find the bar those doors, use surgical tubing if you have to. The harder it is for them to get in the better. The windows on this wing have been boarded up by whoever tried to hole up here, and the exit on that side is in the direction of where we left the truck. We'll bar it, and use it as an emergency exit. Those halls are great for an ambush, we should make our stand there. We keep our hostages safe down there, and Kelsey even further. Grab all the liquid handsoap you can find, we'll empty it all out on in the hall so they'll have a hard time keeping their footing if they come at us. It's a little Home Alone but considering we've all got guns I don't think they'll find it funny." Brandon rapidly explained.

"I can't think of much else, you guys got anything?" he asked after pausing to steady his breathing.
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"I understand." Max complied with a nod. "Barricade the doors, limit the points of entry."

With those words, he left the room to set about his task.

Glenda smirked, impressed at Brandon's quick thinking. She wouldn't have thought to use hand soap as a weapon at all. Unconventional, but who would expect it? If they barged in, they would be caught in a deceptively simple trap.

"I've got the hand soap." Glenda confirmed.

Kelsey, she knew, was safe for the time being. Still asleep and blissfully unaware of the story unfolding down here right now. The day had been stressful on her and hopefully all this commotion was simply preparation for an attack that would never come. The wing that they were in housed less corpses, but the main entrance was still a graveyard that would deter most invaders out of sheer principle. But in the event they came in regardless...

Finding the nearest storage room, she was glad, yet unsurprised, to find that the box of hand soap for the dispensers had been untouched. She scooped up as much as she could in her pockets and made her way back to the hallway they had decided to fortify. In the event they came in regardless, they needed to be prepared. With their hand soap.
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