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Dead Men Walking
Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (71,039 Views)
Make-7-Up-Yours
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Is that so?
Randall was really glad Brandon had found his way to Mount Kisco. If nothing else, his knowledge of weaponry was quickly becoming invaluable. This is all stuff he would have done through trial and error. Granted, finding a flashlight on a table was hardly a sign of weapon expertise... but Randall also felt a little stupid for not bothering to check himself.

"Perfect." He commented on the new source of light.

The interior of the place was littered with bodies, but thankfully none of them were still moving. Most of them looked like they had been killed as rotters, gunshot wounds were frequent landmarks on them. Randall was beginning to see a story here; the police officers had taken refuge here. Probably had managed to get by for a month by moving everything into the college. And then something happened, and rotters got in. Some of them tried to escape, but got surrounded at the shooting range. Those that didn't escape were probably among the bodies on the ground. Assuming there was even more officers than the one they had found already.

"Stay close and watch where you step, everyone."

The warning ended up being almost needless. They navigated through the pool and physical training centers with ease. There were corpses, but no rotters; the worst part was the pool that had corpses in it. Waterlogged corpses. Randall made sure Brandon didn't point the flashlight in that direction after the initial scan of the room; it was a little sickening to see human bodies dissolving in what was now essentially still water. There weren't enough chemicals on the planet to make Randall swim in that pool now. They quickly moved on.

Mennill Hall, as it was labelled on the map, was a little more eventful.

Surprise, surprise. Randall thought as they entered the wide hall that would take them to the front desk. More corpses.

Whump... Whump... Whump...

Randall slowed down. He couldn't get a read on what the sound was, but it was coming from up ahead. Thankfully, natural light could get into this part of the building through the windows, so Brandon was able to turn off the flashlight. Whatever it was, they should be able to see it coming if it was dangerous. Up ahead, Randall could see the main lobby and the entrances to the 1st and 3rd residence halls, which branched out from the lobby at strange 45 degree angles. The noise sounded like it was coming from the main lobby; but they checked down the residence halls briefly to make sure it was safe regardless. There were no visible rotters. Which meant...

Whump... Whump... Whump...

The beating sound was getting closer as they entered the main lobby. As the group stepped into the well lit lobby, Randall figured out why. A dozen or so rotters were pressed up against the front doors, banging on the glass. It was a wall of decaying flesh with glazed over eyes, all fixated on the small group of living that had just entered the lobby. Randall ignored them. Behind the reception desk, he saw a guard slumped over and immediately made his way over to investigate.

"I suppose those zombies heard the sounds of our gunfire earlier and couldn't get around the building." Maxwell postulated out loud. "I hope that glass doesn't break."

"You and me both." Willow agreed.

**********

"Another one?" Glenda furled her brow.

She had already killed 6 lone rotters since leaving the building. It was a bit of a walk, but at least she felt safer now knowing that building was empty. All she had to worry about was the rotters that had apparently been drawn in by their earlier gunfire. At least they were east to take care of. She let the rotter approach; as it made a lunge for her, she kicked it in the knee and moved out of the way as it fell down without any sense of balance. Before it could recover, she rammed the blade of her knife into the base of its spine.

That made 7.

She wiped the blade off on the rotter's ragged clothing. She could see the cars up ahead. Undisturbed. She broke into a light jog towards them, waving her hand so Eli would know it was a friendly that was approaching. She doubted that Eli would just shoot someone without knowing who it was first, but she also knew better than to take reckless chances.

A quick glance to her left made her heart sink.

"Oh fuck..."

There was no word to describe it except for maybe a blob. No, not a blob... a horde. An enormous mass of rotters, she could see at least two hundred, but there were probably more in front, hidden from her point of view. They were already hidden behind the college. They could be pouring into it right now. Glenda kicked it into high gear, going from a light jog into an all-out sprint towards the cars. She needed to tell Eli and get these cars back to the college right now!

**********

In the corner of the room, Willow had found a few moving bags. Still packed. She was currently digging through her second one; the first and second one both had yielded a few promising items that she had tucked away in her jacket. No bullets though, apparently they had not gotten that far. She didn't know who they belonged to, but apparently some of them were planning to leave. Maybe to look for help? Evidently, they never had gotten that chance.

"Oh sweet Jesus..." Maxwell muttered quietly.

"What's up, Max?" Willow turned her head to glance at him.

He was looking outside with wide eyes.

"There's a lot behind them." He said.

"What do you mean?"

Willow got to her feet and went to see what he was looking at. When she did, her face went pale. This close to the door, she could see over some of their heads; there weren't just twelve rotters out there. There were hundreds!

"Good news guys!" Randall interrupted from behind the desk, holding up a keyring. "It was on a dead guard. This may still be easy after all!"

As if a divine being had decided to respond to Randall's statement; the glass shattered at that very moment.
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
"Back!" Brandon barked to the group, hardly necessary as they didn't exactly have many options.

They'd been made. Brandon threw his flashlight to Willow.

"Take the keys, lead the others back. Randall and I will buy us some time." Brandon ordered not even pausing to consider why he was ordering anyone.

He opened fire on the rotters as they stumbled their way in. The FNP kicking firmly with every report. They slowly worked their way backward as the others ran ahead. They passed by a row of lockers as they continued through the narrow hall. The lockers were tall, taller than the hall was wide. If they tipped those over the hallway would be partially blocked, enough to slow the rotters down.

"Randall help!" he said grabbing the locker and attempting to push it over; it was heavy, heavy was good.
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Is that so?
Willow practically leaped backwards as the glass broke and the hungry rotters poured in through the front. People were screaming and gunfire was already erupting. In one brief moment, everything had fallen into chaos. Thankfully, she had enough wits about her to catch the flashlight from Brandon. With the the Ruger holstered on her back and the HK out of bullets at her waist, she wasn't very useful in any sort of fight right now.

As Willow ran by, Randall tossed her the keys as well before running over to help Brandon with the locker. She tucked them into her pocket and kept moving. Randall was a pretty stout man, and together they quickly made progress on the locker.

"Come on, follow me!" Willow barked.

Willow was able to gather the others and start heading back the way they came. Thankfully it seemed like they could still get some of the weapons since it looked like the horde was mostly coming from that one direction. The goofy architecture of this place was literally funneling them all into one entrance!

Unfortunately, their retreat was cut short when she saw another eight or nine rotters emerging from the residence area connected to Mennill Hall. Likely drawn out of their hiding places back there by the commotion. There was now a horde behind them and a pack of the things in front of them!

"This is not good!" Maxwell felt the need to inform everyone as they realized they were boxed in.

"I know!" Willow would have been more annoyed at the obvious statement if wasn't for the adrenaline. "Shit!"

This was bad; Julie was injured and Maxwell was capable of fighting, but apparently not great. And Willow was out of bullets. She needed a plan. She glanced out one of the windows to her right; a parking lot with only a few rotters in it. There was a doorway nearby that would take them out there. And she could see the outdoor shooting range out in that direction too! It looked like a relatively clear shot if they ran for it!

But if she ran now, Brandon and Randall, who were covering their rear, would be trapped. Willow knew she wanted to run, but there was something she wanted more than running right now too. For Brandon not to die.

"God dammit! Julie!" Willow pointed to the door. "Take Kelsey and find Glenda! We'll be right behind you."

"Willow!" Maxwell tossed Willow his axe.

Without thinking, she caught the weapon and brought it down into the head of the nearest rotter. While it was not a direct hit, it nevertheless did fall over without much of a fight.

"Brandon, Randall! Time to go!" She screamed.

What she didn't notice was that the rotter on the ground was not quite dead. While she was distracted, it grabbed her foot and bit down on her ankle.
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Brandon and Randall were already on their way when Willow cried out. He loaded a fresh magazine and rounded the corner. More rotters. Brandon raised his pistol to clear them out when he saw movement at Willow's foot. A cold dread shot up his spine and numbed his brain. His senses faded as it bit down on her ankle. It happened so fast but that split second was frozen in his mind.

Without a single thought going through his head he strode over and put two bullets in its head. What followed was a strange kind of unconsciousness as he pushed forward putting one rotter after another down. Once the immediate danger passed he turned back to look at Willow. He grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Did it break the skin? Did it get through your clothes?" he asked, his voice trembling as his heart raced out of control.

Julie didn't even look back as she grabbed Kelsey by the wrist and bolted for the exit. She kept running, never letting go for even a second.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” Jeff screamed as he ran forward, raising his knife.

Ever since that glass shattered, his head had been aching and throbbing with fear and it threatened to overwhelm him. He forced himself to make some sort of noise – any sort of noise – to keep himself present. He told himself he wouldn’t shut down again – and this was the situation he would prove it.

“Gah! Goddamn motherfucker!” he yelled, as he leapt forward and brought the knife down as hard as he could at one of the rotters that had blocked their path from the residences.

His attack did its job, and the rotter fell into a heap. Jeff fell with him, and he screamed again as he got up, ripping the knife out of the rotters skull as he did.

He was on his feet, knife in hand, before the next rotter had time to approach. That kill had gone well – better than he even hoped.

“Fuck you!” he cried again. Unlike minutes ago, his cries weren’t celebratory. They were desperate and angry.

He brought the knife sideways into the next rotters temple, but followed through with too much of his weight. He pierced the skull but once again, he went down his prey, falling sideways and again out of the immediate battle.

Nine rotters had headed them off on the way back to the pool. Brandon had killed five in quick succession, before returning to Willow’s side and saying something that Jeff couldn’t make out and couldn’t worry about now. Now that Jeff had killed two himself, there were only two left in the way.

* * *

Eli was wearing a worried grimace when he noticed Glenda’s approach. Hurriedly, he hopped out of the truck and opened the front door of the SUV for her. He confirmed the keys were in the ignition, and then hopped back in Mac’s busted-up truck.

He wanted to tell her about the motorcycle what he had heard minutes ago. But right now it seemed like the farthest thing from important.

He could faintly make out a commotion coming from the building. That was much more pressing.

“I know, I know,” he yelled out when Glenda got close. “I hear them, I see them – let’s get the others and get the fuck gone.
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"I'm fine. Don't worry, I'm fine." Willow reassured Brandon with a nervous smile.

She looked down and pulled up the leg on her jeans to show Brandon that she had been wearing boots this whole time. The bite hadn't been able to get through, but it had still been a terrifying experience. She let her guard down for just one second and barely dodged a fatal blow thanks to her choice in shoes.

"Sorry, I was carele- Look out!"

Willow forcefully pushed Brandon aside and brought the axe down on top of the head of a rotter that had been making its way to him. This time it was a much more direct hit. With an axe lodged in it's cranium, this one was dead for sure. But the axe was dragged down with the body.

"Come on!" Randall barked as he pointed at the door. "Let's go!"

As Randall opened the door, a rotter than hadn't been outside a moment ago appeared from seemingly nowhere. Randall barely had enough time to grab the rotter by the shirt, aim the pistol at its head and pull the trigger.

Click.

"Shit!"

At the same time, the final rotter from the residence hall jumped on top of Jeff as he lay on the ground. Willow grabbed the axe handle and pulled, but it was lodged in the skull pretty good.

"Brandon!"

There was only time to make one shot.
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The relief Brandon felt almost dropped him to his knees. It was short lived however. Two of theirs needed help and he was the only one in a position to do anything. Although he liked Jeff his first instinct was to help Randall. Randall who'd been a rock for them. Who'd lost his wife and still undertaken such a huge task. Kelsey's father, all she had left.

But it wasn't Randall who needed him most. Randall was more capable than Jeff, and in a far better position to defend himself. The choice was made in an instant on that alone. Brandon fired a round through the rotter on Jeff and turned to help Randall.
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After tossing the axe to Willow, Maxwell went straight for his own weapon; the butterfly knife he hid in his sock. He was more used to it than the axe. While he didn't really want to go unveiling his hidden weapon, this was a literal matter of life and death. It felt like it took forever for him to slip the weapon out from his sock and flip it open.

When he did, he saw Randall wrestling a zombie at the door.

Randall slammed the butt of his pistol against the skull of the beast, but it wasn't enough to stop it, it kept gnashing its teeth and driving forward towards him.

BANG!

Brandon's round killed the rotter on Jeff, and before he could turn around, Randall's left hand slipped and the zombie was on Randall in an instant, his teeth going straight for his throat like a rabid animal. Maxwell realized the urgency of the situation and moved with the knife drawn, but he wasn't fast enough; the zombie's teeth sunk into the wrist of Randall's right arm as he raised it in defense. A second later, the zombie was silenced as Maxwell drove the blade of his knife into the side of its skull.

Randall's face turned pale and he froze as he stared at his bloodied wrist in terror.

"Randall's been bit!" Maxwell screamed.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Jeff's head throbbed harder as the situation unfolded so fast. Almost as soon as he hit the ground, he felt another rotter on him. Then he heard a gunshot, and looked down to see rotter brains on his shirt. There was a flurry of movement in his peripheral vision as he pushed the rotter off him, and then Maxwell's panicked cry rang out.

Randall's been bit!

It sounded surreal in his head. Randall couldn't be bit. He was their leader. He survived a month on the streets of Mount Kisco, he saved the country club, he had a kid who needed him. He was tough. If anyone was gonna make it through this, it was him.

"What?" Jeff yelled back. "No, there's no..."

He trailed off as stumbled shakily onto his feet. His face was as white as Randall's. He saw the injury and could feel his own resolve fading. A feeling of familiar hopelessness began to wash over him.

There wasn't much known about the disease that created the rotters. The only concrete info that made it back to Mount Kisco was that when you died, it turned you into one of them, and if one of them bit you, you got sick. Deathly sick. Until Randall had revealed the existence of a cure in the aftermath of the lodge outbreak, there had been no evidence that sickness could be stopped or even slowed down.

Jeff's mouth hung open. His grip on his knife loosened. He became only dimly aware of the snarling mass of rotters separated from them only by an overturned locker. He didn't know what to do.
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"Perfect, saves us some time!"

Glenda hardly needed any more motivation. She jumped in the SUV and turned it on in one automatic motion. She spun the wheel and immediately veered the car down the small back road that led towards the college. Her heart pounded in her chest; she hadn't been this worried in a long time. Sure, there was the day to day fear in this new world, but this felt major. If she wasn't fast enough...

The trip was a lot easier in a car. The long road to walk passed by in an instant when one was flooring the gas on an SUV, apparently. And Eli was right on her tail as she drove. She led him through the parking lots and past the shooting range; even driving the SUV off-road in order to get it over the small walkway that led directly to the door to the firearms room they had found. Without a moment of doubt, Glenda jumped out of the SUV and ran into the firearms room; it was still empty. Nobody was anywhere to be found!
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Brandon's head swam. That awful dread washed over him again, like a powerful wave after he'd just reached the surface for air. Bites meant death, everyone knew that. Randall was dead. He could have stopped it. What would they do now?

Kelsey! Oh God I'm sorry.

If he had have shot just one more rotter a moment ago, Jeff would have been fine. He could have avoided this. They could have done just one thing differently and this wouldn't have happened. The guilt and confusion was almost overwhelming. He kept going through every action he'd taken and wondering if he'd done something different...

Don't think, just do.

Bites. Some kind of venomous bite. Apply a tourniquet to the limb to prevent the flow of blood carrying the venom to the rest of the body. They had no anti-venom for this though, what would be the point. They couldn't remove the bite. A spark lit in the back of his mind that brought a new kind of dread all of its own. They may have a chance, but they'd need some heavy, sharp and clean enough to do it. The axe was covered in rotter blood and the same with all their knives. Julies kukri was their best bet.

Brandon gave Willow his pistol and informed her it still had eight shots left. He removed his belt and shed his holster. Wordlessly he tied it around Randall's forearm, pulling it so tight he could have almost broken the skin. His hands were shaking.

"We have to act fast. Really fast. We need to find the others." he said, drawing his FAL and stepping out the door.

His rifle barked three times as he removed the nearest rotters.

Julie could hear the roar of engines and saw the two vehicles just as they were disappearing, going to the wrong side of the college. With a groan of frustration she let go of Kelsey's wrist which she realized she'd been squeezing incredibly tight. She gave a hasty apology before she gesturing fir her to follow as she changed direction toward the cars. Julie waved and cried out to them as they rounded the corner and the cars came in view.
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Is that so?
The immediate rotters were all dead, but the ones from the front door were rapidly encroaching on them. Willow held Brandon's pistol in one hand and the axe in the other. In any other situation, she would have laughed at the mental image of herself looking like the lead in an action movie. Hell, she even started to feel like she had been playing the part lately. But this was not a time to laugh; it was a time to act.

Fight or die.

"Go now!" Willow barked, as if they needed a reason to stay behind.

Maxwell grabbed Randall by his good arm and dragged him outside behind Brandon. The man had blanked out almost entirely, but thankfully he followed Maxwell's lead well enough; his feet unconsciously moved one ahead of the other. Jeff filed out behind the two of them, and Willow took her leave last, slamming the door closed behind her as the first of the rotters from inside started to get uncomfortably close. If nothing else, that would buy them a little time.

She felt like she should say something, tell Brandon where he needed to go, as he was leading the way. But at the same time, she was pretty sure he knew where to go. She would just focus on keeping any rotters Brandon missed away while Maxwell helped Randall forward.
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Eli put the truck in park and immediately hopped out after Glenda. As she disappeared into the firearms building, however, he noticed Julie and Kelsey's frantic approach.

"Hey!" he answered Julie's cries, waving back. "Come on, come on, get in."

He opened the door to the truck when they got close, and physically lifted Kelsey up and into the seats. He held out a hand to help Julie up as well. He was relieved to see they were both alright, even if they were a bit panicked.

"Where's everyone else?" he asked urgently.

Kelsey pointed her small arm in the direction they came from.

"Okay, good," Eli said, nodding seriously. "Don't move."

He leaned into the truck, grabbing the keys from the ignition. Then he leaned out, just as Glenda emerged from the firearms building, looking alarmed. Clearly, she hadn't found the others, and now Eli knew why.

"They're coming," Eli immediately assured her before she could ask. "Heads up."

He tossed her the keys to the truck without any further warning. The horde of rotters was still mostly on the other side of the building, but he could see a mass of them rounding the corner. They were casting a massive shadow that was growing closer with every passing second.

"You gotta get them out of here while you still have a window," he instructed. He reached behind him and grabbed the grip to his AR15, which hung by his shoulder. He raised it into ready position. "Randall would want Kelsey to be safe. Keep going west, we'll meet you on the other side of town."

He started limping -- but limping fast -- in the direction Kelsey had pointed. Over his shoulder, he yelled back at Glenda.

"Go!" he said. "We'll be right behind you!"

* * *

Jeff followed Randall and Maxwell mechanically as his thoughts tumbled around his head like socks in the dryer. This was the border checkpoint all over again. This was seeing one of their own die in front of their eyes. This time, the death would be prolonged and painful – but if every other case could be believed, it was equally as certain.

He replayed the events of the last minute in his mind. He recalled Willow shouting for Brandon – like she was shouting for help. Earlier, she said she was out of ammo. Maxwell didn’t have a gun to begin with. Glenda had left to get the cars. Besides Randall, Brandon was the only one with bullets left. And Randall obviously hadn’t shot the rotter that had fallen on Jeff – he was clearly too busy with his own problems. Brandon must have.

Jeff came to the obvious conclusion. If Brandon shot the rotter on Jeff, that meant he didn’t shoot the rotter on Randall. That meant – that meant something he couldn’t even think about right now.
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"But..." Glenda trailed off, but Eli was already running.

She wanted to help. But at the same time, Eli wasn't wrong. Julie had a broken wrist and Kelsey was just a child. Things were only going to get more difficult as time went on. The decision weighed on her heavily. Very heavily. But she could see everyone approaching.

"We need to wait for dad!" Kelsey pleaded from the truck.

Don't be indecisive. Trust Eli to handle it.

"He'll be right behind us, don't worry!" Glenda jumped in the driver's seat and slammed the door.

She shifted into reverse, spun the truck around, then shifted gears again and took off away from the college and back towards the main road. She didn't stop to look back, she just kept driving. She saw Kelsey glance forlornly out the passenger side window at the college and the horde of rotters, but she didn't say anything.

"Hey, Julie..." Glenda decided to break the silence as she veered south on Hacienda. "What the hell happened in there?"
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"A big hiccough." Julie said simply.

Her heart was doing somersaults, relief and worry were fighting for her state of mind. Kelsey was safe. She was safe. Did the others make it out?

Brandon lead the others on in the direction they'd parked the cars. The others would have heard the gunfire and moved them up most likely. They'd hear his FAL as he killed anything that got too close. They'd come to them, he hoped. As if in answer, Eli came into view.

"Eli! Have you seen Julie!?" he shouted as he ran towards him.
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