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Dead Men Walking
Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (70,986 Views)
Make-7-Up-Yours
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Is that so?
Randall slammed his body against the warehouse door immediately to help Eli. Kelsey wiggled her way in as well and tried to help.

When Jennifer had left Flint, she didn't think that her injured leg would slow everyone down in a time like this. She thought that the SUV would keep them relatively mobile. But that was clearly not the case. And she was mad at herself for being so presumptuous and naive; even though her injury was not that bad, it could easily get her killed in a situation like this. It could get someone else killed. She had seen the world outside the walls, but she had never seen it quite like this. The early days of the outbreak were chaos before she found Flint, but this was something else entirely. There was nothing left. It was worse than she had imagined. It was worse by far.

"Is there anything we can use to block off the door!?" Randall shouted.

"I'll find something!" Jen was quick to rise to the challenge.

She slung the strap of her Uzi over her shoulder and pulled the baseball bat out of its sleeve.

* * * * *

Willow braced herself as best she could for impact.

At the same time, she hoped with all of her heart that the van didn't break down from mowing down rotters or that the freeway would crumble from underneath them. She doubted she was in good enough shape to survive on foot in the middle of Chicago.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
“The boxes,” Eli said, looking around the warehouse.

There were plenty of them around, stacked on lines and lines of shelves. Sunlight filtered in through some panelled windows nearby, illuminating them.

“I’ll help,” he added. “Annie…”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence. The doctor seemed to get his meaning, nodding eagerly after a beat and moving to block off the door in his stead. Of the people available, it seemed like she was the strongest. Still, the door shook open a little bit as they traded places – but between Annie, Randall and even Kelsey, they were able to shove it closed again.

Eli wiped his forehead with his wrist, finding it damp – either from sweat or snow or both.

He advanced towards one of the rows of boxes. He started to worry about how heavy – or not heavy – they would be, but then he heard a groan. Then another one.

“Come on…” he pleaded to no one in particular.

His plea went unanswered. From behind the shelves, more rotters emerged. He counted seven. Most of them were in tan collared work shirts. A couple of them had safety vests. One of them – a thin Pacific Islander looking guy – was in a blue jacket. He must have been management.

They were all on the other side of the warehouse, coming his way. He had a little bit of time.

He holstered his baton as fast as he could, then drew his Supergrade. He ejected the magazine he had spent outside, and then holstered that. He found his spare one, started to load it in – but was immediately disturbed by how light it was.

He held it up, looked inside. He had forgotten to fill it up. He had fucking forgotten.

He looked up briefly at the approaching rotters. Seven had become nine, as two more emerged from in between a row, investigating the sound everyone had made as they entered. There were too many for him to take on in melee combat.

He kept some rounds in another pocket of his belt. Working his fingers as fast as he possibly could, he started fishing them out and loading them into the magazine. He started backing up as he did so, trying to create some more distance between him and the rotters in the warehouse.

He looked up to the rotters, then down to the magazine as he loaded it, then back. He wasn’t working fast enough.

“Jen?” he asked. Then he gulped and said another name he didn’t want to. “Julie?”

He kept reloading. The rotters had cleared more than half the distance to him.

* * *

Emmett was bowling – the trailer was the ball, the roamers were the pins, and this highway was the lane. The only difference was he wanted as few points as possible.

SPLAT!

He hit the roamer with his grill, it flipped onto the windshield, and then rolled off – leaving a bloody stain behind on the glass.

The wiper blades spread that blood out. Emmett tried to activate the windshield wiper fluid, but none came. It must have been empty. He could barely see in front him. The snow was still coming down, but not fast enough to wash the blood off.

THUD!

He heard a similar sound, and saw the rotter spiral out of the way through his side window. He tried to look past the blood on his window and keep navigating down the highway safely.

THUD!

One more time, the trailer hit a roamer, sent it flying away, and kept going. Emmett saw in his rear view that they had gotten past the group for the second time that day.

He pressed down on the brakes to slow down. He still couldn’t really see directly out his windshield, and now that they were out of immediate danger he wanted to buy some time.

The vehicle came to a sudden stop. Emmett’s head jerked forward and his chest hit the steering wheel. A moment later, he realized almost immediately that he had hit something, despite his efforts. He let out a grunt as his head fell back. He rolled down his window and stuck his head out, quickly identifying the other half of the accident was the back of an abandoned car.

He’d have to get out of the trailer to assess the damage on his end. The other car, at least, now had an significant and unsightly dent in its bumper.

He rubbed the side of his neck. The crash wasn’t too bad. He was already slowing down his vehicle when it happened. He might develop symptoms of whiplash by tomorrow, but he imagined that would be the worst of it. In the old world, he would have just exchanged insurance information.

He put his vehicle in reverse and pressed the gas. It rolled back compliantly. Good. He put it in drive and started slowly turning the wheel. He didn’t want to give the rotters behind them a chance to catch up.

He looked to the others in the cab with him – with his eyes, he asked if they were okay.
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Make-7-Up-Yours
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Is that so?
Of course there would be too many for the bat. Jennifer slid it back in the sleeve she kept strapped across her chest and got the Uzi back out. She had just slipped her third and final magazine into the weapon -- she'd had no chances to fill the other two empty ones back up. But now was not a time to be concerned with ammo. Had she been in peak condition, she thought she could take the fight to nine deadheads with a baseball bat so long as she played it smart. Of course, that point was moot with her leg.

"Got it!"

She pressed the weapon against her left shoulder and started squeezing out shots to cover Eli.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

Three of the nearest deadheads went down from the gunfire.

She didn't like how the gunshots echoed through the warehouse, potentially drawing out any other rotters that may be in hiding. But they also wasn't in much of a position to do anything about it right now.

* * * * *

Willow really wished she'd had enough sense to put on her seat belt. She had been in such a hurry that she completely forgot about it and then made the mistake of relaxing when it seemed like they were out of the field of rotters. The sudden whiplash from the impact kicked her out of her seat and sent her crashing chest first into the dashboard before crumpling onto the floor.

"I'm okay! Boobs took the impact for me!" She quickly announced as she picked herself up off the floor and crawled back into the seat. "I'm used to not getting any breaks!"

She didn't mention that it hurt, but after everything else that she had been through recently, potentially bruised boobs hardly seemed like that big of a deal. They didn't stop her from breathing or walking or firing a gun, so she could deal with it.

"I'm just glad this thing is still moving."
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
Brandon rubbed his chest. He had his rifle in front of him when they had their prang and it got caught between his chest and the dash. He coughed from sudden pain in his chest. By the feel of it he could tell it wasn't broken but it was going to leave a hell of a bruise.

"I'm good." he said, more concerned about Willow.

If she took much more abuse they'd have a huge problem.

...

Julie bobbed up and down on the spot slightly, gripping her kukri lightly as she psyched herself up. She clenched down on the handle and moved forward as one of the rotters got uncomfortably close. It was middle eastern looking guy just a bit taller than her. She swung overhead and putting her blade neatly in its skull. It fell to its knees and she freed her blade from it by planting her foot on its should and kicking it away.

There was another behind it. She backed up a few steps and then charged at it. She brought her kukri down hard with more than enough force to drop it. That was a miscalculation though. As the rotter approached it tripped over its dead coworker. Her blade bit deep into its shoulder. The rotter surged forward. Her assault left her open and the rotter got past her guard.

She screamed more from panic and terror than pain as its teeth bit down between her shoulder and neck.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Eli finished loading the magazine, inserted it, and looked up. The remaining rotters were close now, and he immediately took aim.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Three shots, three kills. There was a certain sense of satisfaction to seeing the blood spray out the back of their skulls before they collapsed into dead weight on the floor.

Only one more to go. He turned and found Julie engaged with it. Her blade was in its shoulder and its teeth were… It’s teeth were…

“No!” he cried.

He raised his Supergrade. He was close enough that when he fired – BLAM! – the bullet split through the rotter’s brain.

BLAM! BLAM!

He advanced, firing twice more. It was dead from the first shot, the next two just added a couple more holes. Its jaw went limp and it fell off of Julie.

“No, no, no, no dios, no,” Eli said, unable to believe what he was seeing. He rushed over to Julie to examine the wound.
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Make-7-Up-Yours
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Is that so?
"No..."

The single word escaped Jen's lips when she realized what was happening. Julie. She hardly knew her, but it felt like a shot to the chest. For a moment, she was stunned. Eli was already at her side, but the others were still holding the door closed. She recovered and steeled herself for what she had to do. She couldn't help Julie, but she could help the guys at the door.

"Hang on!"

Jennifer darted over to the nearest box on the ground and gave it a push. It was heavy, but she pretty athletic. A quick peek inside told her it was filled with coats, but there was definitely something else in there. No way were coats that heavy. With a good degree of effort, it did move. That was all she needed, she put all of her weight into it. Her leg screamed at her, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop, she needed to push it! The heavy box slid across the ground. Randall and the others made way for it as she pushed it in front of the door, but still kept their weight on it.

"I'm going to get another one!" Jennifer darted back.

"Annie, go!" Randall commanded while pressing his weight against the door. "Kelsey, help me hold that box there!"
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Strompy
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Julie stared at her shoulder. She pulled back her shirt. Teeth marks. Just a few tiny neat holes. No big bloody gash or gruesome torn flesh. Just a few tiny red marks. And she was dead. And her unborn child was dead. It didn't matter how big the bite was, eventually it would kill her. There was no way out of it like there was for Randall, they couldn't exactly aputate her torso.

She knew this. Recognized it, but didn't feel it. She was dimly aware of Eli next to her. He wss saying something but he may as well have been speaking jibberish for all Julie could discern. Everything was faint. She wasn't upset or scared she was just... stunned. It happened so fast. Just like that it was over. Almost over.

There were still rotters outside and an animal part of her told her to fight even though her brain knew there was no point for her. They needed to keep them out. The others were stacking boxes. That'd help, but the rotters could still feasibly move them. This was a warehouse. They had to have something else.

"Forklift." she mumbled.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Beep.

Eli, we’re on the road,” Emmett’s static-y voice started over the radio in Eli’s pocket. “We’re heading back to the exit. Did you find somewhere safe?”

Eli didn’t answer. He just stared at Julie’s bite wound. He had to accept that he didn’t imagine it a moment ago – that rotter had bitten her. And it didn’t look there was any cutting the infection off this time.

“No, no, no,” he kept repeating the word, unsure of what else to do or say.

The rest of the world faded into the background. He forgot what he was supposed to be doing and he didn’t hear what Julie mumbled. He was only barely aware when Annie arrived next to them. He turned to her and gave her a dumb look. She saw Julie’s wound, then looked back to him with a solemn and sympathetic expression. It was probably the same look she would give to patients or their families when she was delivering bad news.

“I just needed… I just needed you to keep them back,” Eli said, looking away from Annie, but talking more to the floor than Julie. “I just needed some time.”
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Strompy
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"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." she said, beginning to choke up as the realization began to catch up to her emotionally.

She shouldn't have gone for the rotter. She didn't know why she did it. Stupid. Idiotic. Foolish. There wasn't time to be angry at herself though. Even if she knew it was over for her she didn't want to die being torn apart.

"Forklift! Or a forklift trolley with a loaded pallet or something heavier than boxes!" Julie said louder and more forcefully, grabbing Eli by the shoulder and shaking him.
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Make-7-Up-Yours
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Is that so?
Forklift?

Jen heard the word from Julie as she was going for a third box. That could work. It would work better than boxes and sure as hell be nicer on her leg.

Why didn't I think of that? Apart from the panic.

"I'll find one!" Jen quickly yelled. "Let Emmett know where we are! We're gonna need that pick up!"
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Eli was having trouble snapping out of it, but Julie's touch shook just enough of his mind loose. It made him realize he shouldn’t be blaming her, even if only by implication. And he didn’t, anyway. He blamed himself. He asked for Julie’s help. Why did he do that?

I just… I just…

He blinked hard, snapping himself out of it this time. Julie was right – they needed some heavier. A forklift would do it. He needed to do that, and he needed to fill in Emmett. He could do both.

He followed Jen into the warehouse, and found a machine near a row of vertical boxes. It was a semi-electric stacker, not a forklift, but it would probably be heavy enough, especially with some boxes on it.

“Emmett,” he fished out the radio and pressed down the button as he walked. He tried to keep his voice steady. “We’re in a warehouse, to the left – er, northeast – of where we fell.”

Eli, could you rep…” Emmett’s voice crackled back. “We didn’t make…

“Emmett?” Eli stopped and held the radio with both hands. “Emmett are you there?”

There was a beep.We’re…

After that, his voice was too muffled. Eli could only make out static. Then the radio beeped again, indicating Emmett was done.

Eli pressed down again. “Emmett?” he repeated.

No more beeps came. The radio could only transmit a short distance, especially when there was infrastructure interfering with the signal. He had probably travelled out of range. Eli didn’t have time to worry about it. He darted forward and helped Jen move the equipment.

Tipping the stacker backwards and then wheeling it to the side door didn’t take long. It was long enough, though, that Eli had time to imagine Julie turning. The thought twisted him up inside.

He and Jen neared the front door. Annie had returned with a box in her hands. The door was thumping and cracking open with only Randall and Kelsey to guard it. A thin, veiny hand stuck through. The door kept pressing down on the wrist, keeping it there. The sight of it made Eli angry. He let go of the stacker and drew his knife.

“Gah!” he screamed, unleashing his frustration at the hand as he brought his knife down on it, cutting into it. He screamed again when he brought it down a second time, severing it further. Two more screams and two more cuts were all it took before the hand fell off entirely and the door shut cleanly.

Eli sheathed his knife, breathing heavy and sweating – this time, it was definitely sweat – as he returned to the stacker, helping position it in place. Annie, Jen and him quickly piled boxes on top of it.

When they stepped back, the door bumped but the stacker held it shut. Eli’s breathing levelled out, and he turned back to Julie.

The immediate threat was concluded. Now he didn’t know what to say or do. He wanted to move but didn't know where to. He was at a loss like never before.
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Is that so?
With the immediate threat taken care of and Jen sitting on a box nearby as a lookout should anything come from deeper within the warehouse, Randall was finally able to process the situation they found themselves in. They were out of contact with Emmett's crew and Julie was bitten. They'd been in Chicago for no more than an hour and everything had gone to hell in a hand basket.

He wasn't sure how he should feel; he could see Eli pining over Julie and he felt a strong empathy for them both. He had been there several times already. But at the same time, the pain was dulled. He liked Julie, he really did. She had been capable and confident and always had good ideas. Yet he didn't have any tears left; his eyes were dry. And that bothered him just as much as Julie dying. He didn't know if it meant that he had nothing left after the emotional trauma that had happened with Glenda earlier today, of if it meant that he was simply getting used to seeing this. Everywhere one looked it seemed like there was someone dying. It was hard to not grow immune to it; he could see it even in his own daughter. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes.

"Dad! I did it! I'm the varsity quarterback!"

It was nearly dark when Nolan had gotten home with the news. His eyes were lit up like Christmas trees; he had been trying to get into the varsity team since he started high school. Now, as a junior, he had finally made it. Neither Randall nor his son could keep the smiles off their faces as they shared a joyful embrace.

"That's fantastic, Nolan! Your mother is gonna be so proud when she hears this!"

For all the trouble that Nolan had been as a kid, Randall couldn't be more proud of the way he was shaping up. Once all he had was energy, recklessness, and very headstrong personality that had caused him and Elaine nothing but grief. But now he was channeling it into academics and into sports. He couldn't have been more proud of him than he was in that moment. It was impossible.


"Dad?"

Kelsey's voice snapped him back to reality. It was just a memory, yet it was one that struck deep. His thoughts had lingered to Nolan when he thought about all the death. Nolan was probably already dead. Deep down, he had always known this even if he didn't want to admit it.

"Is Julie gonna be... okay?" She whispered quietly so only he could hear.

"I don't know." He answered honestly, glancing at the scene unfolding in front of them. "I don't know anything anymore."
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Strompy
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More posts, more Busey.
Julie sat down. There wasn't anything else to do. Nothing to do but sit there and reflect on what just happened. As soon as that rotter bit her she was dying. Nobody survived a bite. Even a little one like hers. How long would it take, she wondered. A few hours? Maybe a whole day?

She dropped the pistol in her left hand. The clattering as it hit the ground broke the relative silence that fell on the warehouse. If it had had any roundsin it she may have ended it right there. She tore the velcro straps on her splint loose and took the uncomfortable thing off, she wasn't going to be needing it anymore.

"My chances were never that great anyway, were they?" she said with a bitter smile.

The facade was flimsy and slipped away almost immediately as the full emotional force of what happened hit her. She was dying. Her child, and Kevin's would never even get to live. How could she be so stupid? How could she let that thing kill her and her baby. She failed. Her face twisted in anguish as she clutched her belly. She doubled over as she began weeping, tears flowing freely.
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DoctorYerishi
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
Eli watched as Julie doubled over. He kept watching for too long, until his senses finally kicked into gear and he moved over to her. He fell to his knees and embraced her. He felt his own tears coming on, but he sniffed them back. He wasn’t sure why. Instinct, maybe.

I’m sorry,” he said, stretching the first word. It was a response to her earlier apology. He didn’t want her to go out thinking like that. “I’m so sorry.”

* * *

Annie’s heart writhed in sympathetic pain as she watched Eli and Julie. She wanted to be of some help, but she couldn’t. Even as a doctor, there was nothing she could do about that bite. She could keep her as comfortable as possible when the fever set in, but she couldn’t stop it from setting in. And she wouldn’t be able to stop its end result.

She also couldn’t predict when that end would come. Some bite victims she had seen die in less than an hour. Some had taken almost a full day. No studies had been done, obviously, but she did have a theory that it had to do with the severity of the wound and the strength of the victim’s immune system. She knew for sure, at least, that it wasn’t the bite that turned people into rotters. The bite just gave people a fast acting infection that would hurry them along the way to that end.

In addition to pain, she also felt a stab of guilt in her chest – despite the horror she was looking at, she was also grateful. At least it wasn’t Connor. Or her. She didn’t like thinking that way, but the thoughts came tumbling out of her brain anyway.

She looked to Connor. He was watching the scene too, with the same look of shock he’d had since the car crash. This whole thing had been too much for him to process, clearly. She finally considered that this trip was a terrible mistake. That she had dragged her and her son into hell for no good reason.

There was no use dwelling on that now. Instead, she summoned the professionalism in the face of tragedy she had learned in school and over her career, and looked around the warehouse. Panelled windows revealed the snowy backdrop of the industrial district, as well as the faces of a number of rotters, pounding on them but not breaking them.

She tapped Randall on the shoulder. She didn’t want to disturb Eli or Julie. When she got his attention, she pointed at the rotters behind the glass.

“We should probably cover those up, shouldn’t we?” she suggested, softly and cautiously.
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Make-7-Up-Yours
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Is that so?
Randall was actually thankful that Annie had come to him and suggested something to do. His mind was wrestling with a lot right now. A distraction, no matter how simple, was invaluable right now.

"Yeah... sure."

Jen's back was still turned to them; looking out across the empty warehouse. Even though she had only just joined them, this wasn't easy for anyone to watch. He already knew she didn't have that mischievous twinkle in her eye or that contagious smile on right now. She and Annie both were probably regretting their decision to come along right now. They had to be. He knew not everyone would make it to Chicago, but it was starting to hit him hard.

"Regret your decision yet?" He wearily asked Annie after they were out of earshot of the others. "Times like this are always the hardest. Even when you know you have the cure to-"

The cure!

Randall's tone of voice changed and his next words sounded almost hopeful; "Assuming the cure was real and the lab was working... how long do you think it would take to synthesize the first dose of it?"
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