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| Dead Men Walking | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (71,038 Views) | |
| DoctorYerishi | Mar 18 2015, 11:16 PM Post #571 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Eli raised his AR15 in Brandon's direction, then lowered it when he realized was dealing with Brandon, not one of the many dead people that had flooded the area. "She and Kelsey are safe, Glenda's getting them out of here," Eli answered, looking around. He noted Willow with a pistol, blasting away at nearby rotters. He saw Jeff looking lost again, and frowned. Then his eyes stopped on Maxwell and Randall. He wondered why the hell the former was helping the latter get around? He was hit with an intense pang of worry. "The hell's going on here?" he asked, his voice urgent. "Is Randall okay?" He looked past Brandon and yelled. His worry was growing. "Randall! Are you okay!?" |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 18 2015, 11:24 PM Post #572 |
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Is that so?
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"He's been bit!" Willow sounded panicked as she rejoined the others. "He-he's been like this ever since it happened!" Maxwell chimed in. Although he was following Maxwell's lead, Randall's eyes were still fixated on the bite on his right wrist. A few beads of sweat dripped down from his face, which had yet to regain any of it's color. ********** "Everyone was okay last you saw, right?" Glenda was genuinely worried as she sped down the road, taking a right on Glencolin so they could get on the other side of Alymer. |
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| Strompy | Mar 19 2015, 12:34 AM Post #573 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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Kelsey, Julie and Glenda were safe for now. Good. Also bad. Brandon needed that kukri, it was theonly thing heavy and sharp enough to do what he planned. He'd have to use the axe. It was filthy though, doing it with that may be just as bad as a rotter bite. "Max. Take your belt and tie another tourniquet around his arm, above the elbow. Leave the other one on. Willow pass me the axe. I'm going to cut his arm off." he informed them in a tone that said the decision was made. "Do we have anything to clean this with? Water, antibacterial wipes, anything?" he asked. ... "Everyone was okay the last I saw." Julie informed Glenda. She hoped to God they still were. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 19 2015, 04:25 AM Post #574 |
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Is that so?
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After handing the axe off to Brandon, Willow could see Jeff was still visibly dazed. If nobody did anything soon, she was worried he might slip into another prolonged state of unresponsiveness. While Willow was not about to relish seeing Randall's arm chopped off, she figured that Jeff would be even less enthusiastic. She dug into her pockets and handed him the keys that Randall had taken off the guard. "Jeff, go inside and close the room off. Then grab as much guns and ammo as you can and load them into the SUV. We won't let all of this be for nothing." Hopefully this would keep him busy and doing something helpful. Nearby, she saw Maxwell with Randall on the ground beside him; he was currently taking off his tie as per Brandon's request. She jumped instantly went for the SUV and pulled out a couple of fresh water bottles; two of their already dwindling supply. "This might be the best we have." She brought them to Brandon. Willow was so focused on keeping busy that she almost forgot that it felt like her heart was trying to punch a hole through her ribs. The fact that she was functioning as efficiently as she was now was, quite frankly, still surprising to her. In the past it had been almost auto-pilot, but this time she was at the wheel. She was terrified. But also completely in control. ********** Glenda kept the truck rolling, but not a lot was said. She wished she could say something to easy to tension in the air, but there she was never good with words. There was nothing she could say that would make Kelsey and Julie worry less than they already were. She followed the street until it went no further; it came to a stop at a road labelled Springwater. She stopped the truck at the stop sign and waited. As she let herself sink into the driver's seat, Glenda found that her hands were shaking, something uncharacteristic for the normally stoic woman. She closed her eyes and tried to take a few controlled breaths. They are okay. She chanted like a mantra inside her head. Any moment now, she was expecting to see the SUV come pulling up behind them. Yet every time she glanced behind her, at the long flat road they had followed, she could see nothing moving in the distance. No SUV. Maybe they had taken another road? No, why would they? This was the only road that went around Alymer. If they were going to go around the town, they would need to come down this road. So she waited. |
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| Strompy | Mar 19 2015, 07:04 AM Post #575 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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What are you even doing? Doubt nagged at Brandon. Willow brought him the bottled water. It was so grossly inadequate he considered it might be wiser to save it. He wished he hadn't used quite so much at the house that morning. The thought burst through his muddled brain that he had used disinfectant too. "Shit I just remembered, there's disinfrctant in the car with cooking equipment, I brought it from the house." Brandon told her with an apologetic tone. Christ, Brandon, focus. While she went to retrieved it Brandon practically ripped the cap off the bottle and rinsed the gore off the blade. When Willow returned with the disinfectant Brandon attacked the blade with the same fevered urgency. The rotters kept coming, they had precious few moments before they came. "Give him something to bite down and and hold him down, and his arm straight. Don't let his arm move." he instructed them. Another wave of doubt came over him as he looked at the task before him. Randall, the rock. They still needed him and not just to lead. Kelsey needed her father. On a personal level Brandon needed him to live out of principle. Every life had to be fought for now. No more death. If he died anyway though, Brandon would have mutilated his friend for nothing and made his final hours that much more horrific. Don't think. With that his mind went quiet and a cold calm seized his body. He raised the axe. It was heavy. Heavy was good. THUNK The axe came down and did the majority of its job in one swing. With missing a beat Brandon brought it back up and down with a practiced precision. THUNK It was done. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Mar 19 2015, 09:36 AM Post #576 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Jeff’s dulling eyes sharpened when he heard Brandon’s instructions. He shook physically, then turned to Randall. He was staring at his own bite, and Jeff followed his gaze. Amputation. The thought chilled him but also invigorated him. He knew very little about medicine, but it still made sense to him. Cut off the limb to stop the spread of the disease. It could work. Randall might make it. When Willow handed him the keys, he shook again, as if shaking off the encroaching languor. He nodded vigorously and booked it as fast as he could down the yard towards the firearms room. When he made it to the door, he shrugged off his light backpack. As he pushed inside, he unzipped it. The room was empty, thankfully, but the door leading down the hall had been left open. Jeff heard a groan that sounded way too close. He dropped his pack on the floor and reequipped his knife. He ran for the doorway. When he got there, so did a rotter – he was once a tall, fit young man, with a few inches and a few pounds on Jeff. Jeff reacted instinctively, swinging his knife around in an arc. He slashed the rotter in the jaw as it leapt forward, causing it to clumsily stumble into the side of the doorframe. There were more groans. From under the first rotter’s armpits, Jeff could see several others were on its tail. His heart beat faster as he realized fighting them wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Instead, he screamed and kicked forward as hard as he could into the first rotter’s gut. His blow was pretty hard, and the rotter fell backwards and into the two behind him. They all lost their footing and collapsed like bowling pins. Jeff quickly shut the door on them. He panted in relief as he holstered the knife, replaced it with the key Willow had given him, and returned to his pack. Next stop was the lockers. There were a lot of them, so he chose the one closest to him first. The key unlocked it with a satisfying ‘click,’ and Jeff practically tore the door open. The majority of the locker was a clothes hook, from a which a useless and tacky yellow windbreaker hung. Jeff scowled at the memory of cops it evoked in him. There was also a long black gun Jeff couldn’t identify, but it was too bulky to carry with him. A couple shelves had exactly what he was looking for, though. There were cardboard boxes with company logos like ‘Winchester,’ ‘Remington,’ and ‘American Eagle.’ Some were open, some weren’t. He didn't have the time or the knowledge to properly sort through it, so he just opened his backpack wide and swept the boxes in with his arm. When he was done, his pack was more than half full. There was a loud and scary banging on the door to the hall he had just closed, as well as on the door to the staff entrance. He started to worry that rotters might not be swarming around the door he had come from, and almost every part of him just wanted to get out of there. Somehow, though, he gathered the strength of will to ignore those parts of him. He closed the locker, removed the key, and opened a second one. Its contents were the same deal as the first. Jeff scowled again at the windbreaker, but piled as many of the cardboard boxes as his backpack could fit. When it was full to bursting, he zipped it up. He dragged it behind him as he ran, struggling now with its heaviness. * * * Eli only had a few seconds to be horrified by Randall’s bite before Brandon had suggested a fix that horrified him just as much. Instantly, however, he knew it made sense and if there was any way to save Randall they needed to take it and fast. “I’ll hold them off,” Eli said immediately, his eyes narrowing and his mind focussing. “Get it done.” He walked a few steps away, leaving Brandon and the others to their dirty work. He forced his mind not to think about the possible complications. Instead, he thought about his job – making sure the rotters didn’t get to them. BANGBANGBANG! There were a few rotters stumbling at them from the parking lot. Eli mowed them down. The majority of the horde were still making their way around and through the building. * * * “Jesus fucking Christ!” Jeff couldn’t contain the exclamation when he emerged outside, just in time to see Brandon bringing the axe down for the second time. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 19 2015, 02:19 PM Post #577 |
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Is that so?
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Gunshots? Were they still at the Police College? It was the pain that coursed through his body after the first chop of the axe that brought Randall out of his dream-like state and back into the real world. With an agonized scream that was only slightly muffled by the stick that was in his mouth. But Maxwell and Willow held on tight; although he struggled, the second strike found its mark halfway up up his forearm and Randall was now officially an amputee. "Oh god, that's a lot of blood..." He heard Willow gasp. It hurt. Oh, it hurt like hell. Randall couldn't put it into words because words were woefully inadequate to describe it. Despite that, he felt like it would hurt even worse if he looked at it; so he tried his best not to. Even though he was barely there, he had enough sense to suspect that he didn't want to see. "What do we do now?" It was Maxwell this time. "He is going to bleed out at this rate!" ********** After a few minutes, Glenda turned the truck back on. Maybe they had gone too far. She could predict the route they would take in her head. To get around Alymer, they needed to take Glencolin, since it was the only street between the Police College and the town. The horde had them blocked off from going north. However, there were three cross streets they could also turn at. The last thing she wanted to do was get separated and be unable to find each other. Glenda knew she had been a little jilted and driven a little too far, but at the very least now she wanted to go back. Maybe go back to the first cross street where she knew they would be, rather than the third one down and rick them taking another route around the town. Yeah, good idea. Glenda thought to herself. I don't want to be standing still right now anyway. "I'm worried." Kelsey admitted to break the silence. "There were a lot of them. I looked back after Julie grabbed my arm and I think I saw one of them get Willow." Glenda's heart literally skipped a beat. Did they actually get Willow? Now Glenda was really scared. She pressed a little harder on the gas. "Are you serious?" Glenda needed to make sure. "Yeah." Kelsey added. "I'm serious. There were a lot of them too." "God dammit, we never should have left them. I'm sorry, both of you." Maybe they should go all the way back. Maybe they needed the help. Maybe she wouldn't get to see Willow again if they didn't. Make a damn decision! But she couldn't see the right or wrong decision. For the first time in a long time, she found that she didn't know what she wanted to do or what she thought was best; protect Kelsey and Julie or make sure everyone else was okay? The uncertainty started to eat away at her, her knuckles were all but turning white as she gripped the steering wheel. As they approached the first cross street that she had mentioned before, still about 2 miles away from the police college, she turned the wheel to go around an abandoned truck in the middle of the intersection. This is normally where she would have stopped, but she wanted to go back now. She changed her mind. WHUMP! The steering wheel locked in place. In a moment of horror, Glenda realized the power steering had just been completely lost. Glenda remembered what this truck had gone through; Mac had crashed it into an RV and mangled the front of it and then it had been riddled with bullets less than an hour later. The fact something like this hadn't happened earlier was probably amazing. Probably. This is ironic. Glenda conceded mentally when she realized she couldn't stop their truck from slamming into the abandoned one. As soon as I lose my cool... Mac's truck smashed into the smaller abandoned one, cleanly knocking it aside. The impact sent Glenda's head crashing into the steering wheel, knocking her out cold, and veered the truck off the right side of the road and into a small ditch. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Mar 19 2015, 04:37 PM Post #578 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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BANGBANGBANG! Eli fired off a few rounds at a rotter in the nearby parking lot. When it fell over, he searched for a new target. "You're the one that's a fucking professor!" Eli yelled angrily, without looking back -- though he was more angry at himself than at Maxwell. He knew he should have been with them. He could have helped. If he was there to protect him, Randall might not be in this position right now. That was more guilt Eli would have to add to the pile. BANGBANG! He felled another rotter, then mentally chastised himself. You can beat yourself up later, he thought. Right now you gotta move. "Just him in the back of the SUV!" he yelled. "Keep the arm elevated and keep applying pressure. There are some clothes in my bag, if you don't got anything else clean." He didn't know a lot about medicine, but he was confident about that much at least. That was basic enough that he had picked it up just watching TV. He limped backwards a little as he kept firing at the stragglers. He spared just a quick glance at Jeff, who was holding his backpack over one shoulder with both hands, and gawking in Randall's direction. He clearly agreed with Willow's assessment -- but he also must have done what Willow asked of him. His pack looked full, and presumably full of ammunition. With Randall's life still very much in danger, it didn't feel like much of a bright side, but at least it was something. "Jeff!" Eli called out to him, sparing one more quick glance to ensure he snapped out of it. "Pack it up, come on!" As he said that, a wall of dead flesh appeared in the corner of his eye -- the horde was slowly rounding the corner of the firearm's building. It was well and truly time to go. |
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| Strompy | Mar 19 2015, 07:28 PM Post #579 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"We'll cauterize the wound once we get to a safe distance." Brandon said, helping Randall to the SUV. He gingerly guided the man into the back seat. Randall was in shock. They weren't done yet though. Cauterization was one of the most painful wound treatments, but he suspected after losing an arm it might not be so bad by comparison. Brandon tightened the tourniquet on his arm a little more in the meantime. It would hurt, but it'd slow the bleeding. ... Willow got bitten!? Glenda was right to turn back as much as she didn't want to face that situation again. Julie had just found these people, she couldn't lose them so soon. Part of her wanted to stay there though, as images of them being torn apart by the undead shot through her mind. If they weren't okay, she almost didn't want to know. A loud noise broke her from her anxiety as the truck went out of control. Julie had one instant to before the impact. "Kelsey!" she whispered as she looked back. Seat-belt, good girl. There was an instant pain in her neck as the truck violently jolted. She blinked hard and opened her eyes in time to see the truck lurch onward into a ditch. She put her hand on the dash to brace for the impact. Glenda was out cold. Julie reached over and turned the car off. This was just what they needed now. Pushing through her frustration, Julie undid her seat belt and got out of the car. She took a brief survey of the area, no rotters. Yet. She made her way to the driver's side door and opened it to check on Glenda and attempted rousing her to no avail. What should she do? What could she do? She had no idea what that noise was, she didn't know anything about cars, it could have been anything, the truck may just be completely shot, and she didn't know the first thing about driving. They needed to find the others. But they couldn't leave Glenda either. "Kelsey, I need your help. We're going to move Glenda to the back seat." she said lowering the driver's seat back. Awkwardly, she clambered into the beat seat and with Kelsey helped dragged Glenda back, lying her down. If rotters came this way, they weren't likely to spot her. She'd be safe in the car, rotters can't open doors after all. She wound the windows up and closed the doors. With a marker from the glove box she left a message for Glenda if she woke up. Continued on foot. Will come back with help. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 19 2015, 07:50 PM Post #580 |
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Is that so?
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"Of biology!" Maxwell retorted to Eli, as if he did not know. "How many times do I need to tell you that does not make me qualified for this sort of work!?" "Enough arguing! No time!" Willow barked at them before the argument could get any worse. She quickly unslung the Ruger from her shoulder and jumped into the driver's seat of the SUV since nobody else seemed to be doing it. "R-right!" Maxwell quickly agreed for once. Willow was glad to mentally note that it seemed Maxwell could get his priorities straight when the shit hit the fan. He carried himself with a sense of urgency as he helped Jeff get the supplies he had scavenged into the SUV. "It's time to go!" Willow slammed the side of the car impatiently. She just really wanted to get the hell out of here. ********** The crash had rattled Kelsey, but she finally understood why everybody always talked about seat belts so much. The crash wasn't really all that bad after the surprise and jolt of the initial impact. But she was now worried for Glenda as well, although Julie assured her that she would be okay after she woke up. But that really wasn't what was bothering her. Leaving Glenda alone out here? Unconscious? What if something happened? Rotters? People? There were a lot of possibilities; Kelsey wasn't sure if leaving her in the truck was even safe. But did they have another choice? As Julie finished writing the note for Glenda, she caught sight of something. "Um... Julie...?" She poked her head in the car. "We have rotters." There were three coming from the house whose yard the truck was now sitting in, two more coming from the house across the street, and 2 more across the intersection from a few really old houses. Seven total. "I don't think I feel safe leaving Glenda here like this... I think the crash woke them up." |
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| Strompy | Mar 19 2015, 08:39 PM Post #581 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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Seven walkers, less than seven shots. Julie like her kukri but she wouldn't fancy her chances even if she had full use of all of her limbs. They couldn't move Glenda, she was too heavy. They'd have to drive. Julie hadn't even touched the wheel of a car since her dad died. On top of that, this was driving stick. What could she remember? Clutch down, then accelerator down while easing off clutch. To say Julie was afraid of driving was an understatement. The last time she drove she was home on break from college, and her dad was giving her a long overdue driving lesson. They were t-boned by a drunk and that was the end of her father and her lessons. The crash yesterday and now this... it didn't do much for her confidence. She clambered into the driver's seat and pulled it back up. Kelsey climbed in the passenger side. With an anxious gulp, Julie put the clutch down and turned the ignition. The engine came to life. She put it in reverse and slowly accelerated while easing off the clutch. The engine stalled. With her hands shaking in frustration and anxiety she started it back up. She stalled. "GOD DAMN IT!" she cursed herself as much as the truck, slamming her fist on the dash. Try again. her dad's patient voice echoed. She steadied her nerves. The truck started. She eased off and the car began backing up slowly. The rotters had closed the gap but the truck shrugged them off and Julie ignored them as they slammed their stupid hands on the hood. With a little bit of grinding she put the car into first and began moving forward. She hard to pull and push so hard on the wheel to get the thing to turn even a little. The power steering was gone, that was the noise. She reasoned it shouldn't be a problem so long as she drove slowly. They were driving! Julie laughed as they cautiously drove onward. "Can't believe I was about to walk! I've got this shit." she affirmed. They didn't get very far. The truck made some more very unhappy noises. Julie tried to steer toward the side of the road, but now the wheel was completely stuck. Julie stopped the truck. She gave a dismayed sigh. What were they going to do now? They were relatively safe in the car, but should they try walking now? She didn't want to leave Glenda. If those things somehow got into the cab... Glenda didn't deserve that. They'd stay, and wait for the others. Julie had two shots left. That left her as the odd one out should worse come to worst. They can't get in the cab. They can't get in. she reassured herself. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 19 2015, 09:14 PM Post #582 |
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Is that so?
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Kelsey peered anxiously over the dashboard. They had rolled a little bit with Julie, but it seemed like all the commotion they were making seemed to be pulling all the rotters in the general vicinity towards them. She could see more than the seven she could before; there was a small group of about 15 or so that had appeared from the side street they had just passed by. A mini-horde wandering along the road, directly towards the now disabled truck. She reached down and picked up her rifle. She only had what was in the magazine. "We'll be okay, right?" Kelsey asked. |
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| Strompy | Mar 19 2015, 09:38 PM Post #583 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"They can't get in. We'll just sit here and wait for the others. They'll be by this way soon and they'll help us." Julie said, silently hoping she was right. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Mar 19 2015, 10:10 PM Post #584 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Eli's magazine ran dry by the time he reached the passenger's side door. He eagerly jumped in and slammed it closed after him. He looked back at Brandon, Maxwell, Jeff and Randall, and frowned at all the red he saw. There was nothing he could do, though, so he stared forward again. "Then let's go," he said, eager to do just that. * * * There they are, the man thought when his prey appeared on the horizon. They were being hounded by an assemblage of roamers. He would have to take care of that first. The man’s car engine roared, the sound growing louder with every passing second. Distracted by the noise, the roamers turned around. He didn't slow down, and just as soon as the roamers could see what was coming, he plowed through them violently, knocking them around like bowling pins. After that, he brought his van to a sudden stop. He opened his door, and he emerged. He was about six feet two inches, bulky but fit. He wore a plain black leather jacket and gloves, dark jeans and dark boots. His only exposed skin was on his face, but even that was obscured by his mane of thick brown hair, which hung past his chin on both sides, and his bushy beard. With both of his thick arms he raised a Mac-10 with a long magazine. He took aim at the rotters he head downed and squeezed the trigger. POWPOWPOW! The shots came in fast and loud bursts. Rotter heads exploded in response. POWPOWPOWPOWPOWPOW! POWPOWPOWPOWPOW! He spared three or four bullets for every head, picking off every rotter that was on its feet or rising from the ground. Soon, there was the click of an empty magazine. Unfazed, the man pressed the magazine release, then caught the empty mag as it slid out. In just a few practiced motions he slid the empty magazine into one of the pockets on his jacket and instantly produced another. He finished reloading as one of the remaining rotters got within a few feet of him. Confidently, he raised the gun and fired right into the rotters temple, spraying brain matter violently out the back of its skull. He took a beat to examine the aftermath. Most of the nearby rotters were all dead, and the ones were crawling helplessly in the man's direction, their legs crushed by the van. Then, less than a minute after his arrival, he turned around and raised his weapon in the direction of the truck. "Get out," he said, his voice loud enough to hear, but oddly soft. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Mar 19 2015, 10:19 PM Post #585 |
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Is that so?
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As soon as everyone was in the car, Willow had the SUV moving with the intention to leave this place behind forever. "Brandon..." Randall's pained voice weakly called out. While his face was pale and covered in sweat, his eyes looked resolute. "I-if I don't... make it..." He spoke between short, gasping breaths. "Promise me... keep Kelsey safe..." He paused for a few more breaths. "Promise... me..." His eyes closed and his head rolled to the side. Maxwell quickly checked his pulse. "Still alive, just unconscious." He confirmed. "It will probably make the next part easier, to be honest." |
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7:30 PM Jul 10