Looks like you lucky bastards get a reprieve. As fate would have it, I'm sick as a dog and don't have the energy to post much more than this post. When I recover though, I'm coming back with a vengance. Enjoy your last days.
So now there were two girls in a car with me and the dickhead who wouldn't let me use his gun. Didn't the dude know I was an assassin? I could cap a zombie's punk ass from miles away with his gun. He hit a bump, and it jarred my cut open forehead. I needed to find my car. It had sniper rifles and bombs and assault rifles and pistols and gauranteed our survival and this idiot was ferrying these two little girls around. What an awesome way to start off a mission.
Wait, what was my mission? To kill someone, obviously, but whoi? Shit. I forgot. Wreck must've gotten to me worse than I thought.
Fuck.
"There are no absolute rules of conduct, either in peace or war. Everything depends on circumstances."
I winced as Seal sped up and hit a bump. Jack was sitting in the front, hand pressed against his wound and glaring at Seal. Alyssa stayed silent, staring outside. I cleared my throat after I've redeemed myself.
"Where exactly are we headed?" I asked.
"A barn," Alyssa answered nonchalantly. She seemed pretty calm for a child in the middle of an apocalypse. I squeezed my hands and watched as Seal swore as he sped up. I began muttering prayers to myself. We're going to die.
Seal- In a carSorry for being the cause of so many problems : /
It didn't take a social genius to see the cloud of depression in the car. Everyone's mind was on one thing: Death. It's a universally recognized connection: Zombie apocalypse: death for everyone.
Trying to remove the negative mentality, I spoke up. "Soo.... anybody want to play I Spy?" Nothing but glares for a response. Jack muttered something along the lines of "You've got to be fucking kidding me"
More silence followed, that was odd. Somehow, the screeching of the zombie's victims and the orchestra of destruction had subsided. "It's quiet..." I said.
"No shit" glared Jack.
"No, Seal's got a point" said Alyssa. "Shouldn't there be at least some screaming?"
Madeline shrugged. Suddenly I felt very, very at risk, well, more un-risk than usual during an Undead Invasion. Thats when the groaning started... but no-one's mouth was open. Slowly, I rounded a corner, and came face-to-face with the largest horde of zombies ever. Madeline and Alyssa screamed, Jack shouted, I would like to say I did the same, but to be honest my voice was higher than Alyssa's.
I hit reverse and started gunning backwards down Post Road. The zombies were sprinting as fast as they could, and one managed to get a grip on the hood. I fumbled with the gun in my pocket, keeping one hand on the wheel. In desperation, I shot the bugger through the windshield, blowing him off the hood and leaving a shower of gore and glass over my lap.
Now, in a zombie film I would miraculously do a U-turn and zoom away, but this is reality, and in reality I lost control when I pulled the trigger, and sent us caroling out of control into the buildings on the side of the street. There was a bright flash, and then I awoke upside down in the car in a shower of debris at some store.
"Fuck! Give me the gun!" Jack yelled as a couple zombies started prying at his door. I passed him the weapon, and craned my neck to look behind me. Madeline and Alyssa were free of their seats, and were making they're way out of the car, I followed suit, clambering to my feet.
Jack was an amazing shot, even wounded and upside down, emptying his cartridge into the skulls of several zombies. I leapt over the car and ripped open his door, yanking him out in the process. THe gun was out of ammo, we were out of weapons, cornered by a zombie horde. I pressed myself against the wall, and watched as several zombies reached the hole we made in the side of the building.
This is it... I thought. Then, like the voice of an angel, Madeline shrieked at us "Over here! Into the alley!" She had raced off to the bathroom, and was climbing through a small window. We followed suit, me going last after helping Jack. The door held off the zombies long enough for me to make it through, and then we stood there panting. No car, no weapons, just a wall between us and death. What now?
With friends and courage one can stand against all foes, for neither man nor God can conquer those who are not alone
"109 in the sky but the pigs won't quit"
GLBTit doesn't matterone thing doesn't change who we are
I was now on the dirty floor of a bathroom, separated from the zombies. My eyes wide and my hands sweaty. I quickly got up and started backing away from the small window, where tw zombies were banging on and trying to break down. I looked around and notice that there were... urinals.
Me and Alyssa exchanged glances as we found out where we were exactly. It was silent, other than the groans of the zombies outside.
"What now?" Alyssa asked. I bit my lip.
"You said we were headed towards some barn. Correct?" I asked. Alyssa nodded.
"Yea, but how will we get there now? Without a car?" Seal asked.
"We'll hijack another car, idiot," Jack answered. I looked at the beat up door, and headed towards it. I pressed my ear against the door, in case there were some zombies. There went any moaning, so I carefully open the door.
"What-" Seal started, but was cut off by Alyssa elbowing him. The door was fully open, and I stick my head outside. Holding my breath, I hope to God that there weren't any zombies. Luckily, there weren't any, so I nod to the others.
"Unless you want to stay here, I suggest we go," I said.
Dirk was stoned out of his fucking mind. He got 3rd shift again, and that meant spending all night getting blazed. Dirk was in the bathroom, rolling another joint, when Seal was getting attacked by zombies. Well, Seal set the damned place on fire, the pyro that he is, and Dirk died in the resulting explosion. Dumbass
Blaise was all alone. Frightened and in hiding, she crouched down in her corner and prayed to whichever god she believed in. For whatever reason she decided to run out of the "safety" of her house and down the zombie infested street. She ran past an old man crying over a dead zombie, a woman being ripped to shreds, and a sculpture of a blue chicken (don't even ask). That's when Octavian stepped out of the shadows brandishing his shovel. Presumably under the influence of Mr. Carcer, he flagged her down. "Hey, little girl. What are you doing outside at a time like this? Don't you know how dangerous it is" "What do you want from me? And I'm not little." "What, me? Oh nothing..." He swung his shovel at her head with all his might. She dodged it, kicked Carcer in the groin, and ran. He chased her all the way down the street. When he caught up with her, he beat the absolute fucking shit out of her, laughing maniacally the entire time . She put up a fight but in the end, she couldn't avoid her fate. She laid dead in a pool of her own blood, blood that zombies could smell. They came by the dozens, each taking as much of Mr. Carcer as they could get their greedy, rotting hands on. There wasn't enough left of him to zombify. They both deserved it, honestly.
Nolo was holed up in his police station. Whether or not there actually is a police station in Marathon, I'm not even sure, but that's beside the point. Point is, he's there waiting. The zombies, smelling his delicious, juicy flesh, burst through the door. He pulled out his pistol and opened up. Unfortunately, he forgot to load the rounds into the magazine. The zombies just destroyed the poor bastard. No chance in Hell he'd have survived. Though he was dead, his DNA lived on for another couple of days splattered all over the walls of the police station he was in. Life is hilariously cruel.
I ran into the shop, slamming the door shut behind me. I locked and bolted it, then put a loose piece of wood underneath the handle, and slamming it so that it was parallel to the door. satisfied with my work, i looked around for a soldering iron. With the mass amount of zombies outside, It seemed I was making the gun in here. I had to work fast. they were finding windows. Luckily, there was a generator full of gasoline. it gave me an idea. I lit an all purpose match off of my soe, unbarring the door as i did so. I then dropped the match into the generator and shoved it outside. it made a satisfying boom, throwing makeshift shrapnel at the walking dead. sadly, about 10 were still left, and I still had no gun. I grabbed the soldering iron and belted it. how was I going to get rid of the rest of these flesh addicts? I saw a few pipes laying around, and I realized what I could do. there was still a saw for cutting pipes, battery operated, of course, and lots of duct tape. they say duct tape solves all of your problems. they're not lying. I taped the pipes together, and then added the saw to the end, blade facing outward, and then i duct taped the saw so that it was on. i unbarred the door and started swinging in big arcs, forcing the zombies back. Just as good as a gun, i thought. One or two zombies got hurt, but none died. again. i took advantage of the distraction and i ran back towards my 'house', losing the zombies as I went. i untaped the on button and barred my door, then got to work securing the windows and doors.
"Fourty-two" - Deep Thought
"There is no spoon" -Strange Child
"C IS FOR COOKIE! THATS GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME!" - Cookie Monster, may he Rest In Peace
They were all locked into my mind--the zombies. With their ripped fleash and a distinctive groan that anybody could identify. I thought there were just a dozen or so zombies in this town, so I didn;t think about it so much. Until I saw what happened just minutes ago. I sighed, trying to put that moment to the back of my head, and hopefully it will stay back there. Never once creeping back into my thoughts. Though with my mind filled with nothing but undead cannibals? Almost impossible.
"Dibs on the back seat." I moaned, trying to look as normal as possible. All I knew was that panic is the mind killer, and can send people nuts at times. It's just a couple zombies, right? No, I lied. There were probally hundreds of them lurking around in this town.
"Whatever." jack said, making his way toward the beaten-up car. With this vehicals condintion, I wondered if it would still work. Even with his wound, though now only having flakes of dry blood shed off, I was surprised that he seemed the least bit of 'normal'.
I stuck my tongue out, though I was clear enough that nobody saw that. The door came open with an screech, piercing at my ears. Well looks like something needs a good repair. Seal and Jack went in the front, slamming the doors. The sound carried out, as if this was some type of ghost town. A town inhabitle, only tumble weed and small desert animals cross paths within its boundries. Though this is just a town that has very few alive humans, and outnumbered by the undead.
I finally got a closer look at Madeline, taking in her facial features and her clothes. Her face was still in that shocked position, her mouth slightly hanging open and her eyes wide open. I knew that soon enough that chick will find just a taste of this town. I think I should start teaching her how to climb trees, from my experiance, I saw them as a safe haven.
"Lets see how well this goes." Jack said, glancing at me then back at Seal who just found the key. He jammed the key into the side of the sterring wheel, and turned it. Off we go again, in another car, and hopefully out of the zombies way.
"Lets see if that barn of yours is clear of all zombies," Seal said, looking straight ahead while he rested his foot on the gas pedal. "No, lets see if ther's no zombies with guns, and they know how to operate it." he glanced at me, and I shrugged. Noting how Madeline looked confused.
"You'll see soon, Madeline." I said, my body jolting forward as Seal stepped on the pedal. Oh no, we forgot the cooler in the other car, well, who cares now. I thought inside my head, looking out of the window as the buildings went by.
Why did they let this Seal person drive? He'd made the mistake of firing a round through the window of the last car, and then losing control of the car. And almost killing us. I should have been driving, but the pain in my head was severe enough to keep me from complaining. We clipped along, passing the occasional zombie straggler. Nothing to worry about, but still unnerving.
Bored, I opened the glove compartment to see what kind of person drove this car, and to my delight, I found a small .22 pistol. Puny round, sure, but it beat being unarmed. I flashed it to the other occupants of the vehicle.
"Hey, check this out, a .22 pistol. Ooh, and..."
I reached under some papers in the glove box and found two spare magazines.
"Some extra ammo. This should put down more than a couple zombies if we run into to trouble."
I turned around in my seat and looked at the little girl, who apparently had a barn full of guns.
"So, girlie, how far to this barn of yours?"
(OOC: I'm grounded from the computer at home, so I might not be able to post till Tuesday, which is when I have access to the school computer's again. I don't wanna die, so please don't kill me!)
"There are no absolute rules of conduct, either in peace or war. Everything depends on circumstances."
I opened my eyes. Smoke billowed from the hood of the engine which I could see through the shattered windshield. I touched my forehead and winced, a gash had ripped open above my left eyebrow. I flung the door open and began to get out when I felt the sting of the gun shot wound in my shoulder.
Outside of the car I realized I had crashed into someones living room, the paneling of the house had collapsed onto the trunk of the car, making a flimsy barricade. The house's interior was something out of Field & Stream magazine. Stuffed trophies hung on the walls and stood in the corners. The hood of the car was crinkled into a pool table and a nearby cabinet had fallen and shattered its contents onto the floor. Lucky for me it was a gun cabinet but, it only had one gun. I picked the .22 rifle off the ground, fully loaded, 7 shots.
A box of cartridges had spilled onto the floor and to my surprise there was a bowie knife in the back of the cabinet. I slung the gun onto my good shoulder and slipped the bowie knife into my belt. I searched the rest of the house, 2 bedrooms where I was able to find a clean shirt and ditch my bloody jacket. One laundry room, full of dirty clothes. I also found a bathroom supplied with gauze and alcohol and in the kitchen there was a gas stove.
I needed to doctor myself. I turned on the gas stove and stood over the sink. The first thing I did was pour alcohol onto the gash in my forehead, bloody liquid streamed past my eyes and mouth into the sink. I took the bowie knife and held it over the stove top flame. Fuck, this is gonna hurt. I thought. I'd seen cowboy movies before, they always cauterized their wounds. When the knife had a nice glow to it I yanked up the sleeve of my shirt and without hesitating thrust the knife into the exit wound of the bullet. I dropped the knife into the sink, yelling, I collasped onto the floor howling in pain and holding my shoulder.
I laid there, how long I don't know, I just laid there. No disturbance from outside, completely quiet, the stove still running. I couldn't feel my arm, when I worked up enough courage, I checked the wound. It was fierce, a black hole in my arm the edges curled to a crisp. I got to my feet and walked into the bedroom where I had left my bloody shirt. I tied it around my shoulder and made a sling for my arm.
When I got back to the kitchen I immediately knew something was wrong, the fire had gone out on the stove and I smelt gas in the room. I slipped the bowie knife on the counter back into my belt and snatched the gun off the table. I looked around the room and checked inside the living room... nothing. I looked through a window facing the front, a few zombies milled about in the street. I only had one good hand, so I instead made my way to the backdoor.
The backyard was fenced off, 6ft tall slabs of lumber stuck into the ground. There was a patio with a propane grill and a picnic table. Farther into the corner of the yard was a hatch. It looked like a buried bathtub, the door to the hatch was open, but there was no one around. It was an emptied storm cellar, containing only two cots, recently used.
I turned back towards the house once more to check, a boy about 16 years old stood behind me. I just stood there not thinking, he hit me in the head with a shovel sending me to the ground. He raised it over his head to finish me off, I quickly rolled out of the way. I jumped to my feet and backed up towards the house, "Listen kid, I don't mean any harm." He kept advancing towards me not saying a word. I pointed the rifle at him with my one good hand, "Back off, you creepy fuck!"
I was at the backdoor now, "Christ! I don't want to shoot you!" I was hit in the side and thrown back into the house. Another boy, about the same age as the first locked the door behind me. The two of them stood there watching me, one pulled a matchbook out of his pocket, and lit the sulfur tip. I smelt the gas, I saw the kid through the screen door, I shot. The bullet hit the kids fingers blowing off several of them, the match was out, the other kid distracted. I kicked the door wide open and elbowed the second teen in the face.
Having to have lost half of his fingers the first kid was fast, he swung his shovel at me in a wide, crippled arc. I jumped back and fired again, the bullet missed but, the kid dropped back. I circled the two maniacs until I was facing the fence. The second kid had regained his balance and was now, clutching his bloodied face. I watched both of them carefully, they had probably lived here, they had probably raided the gun cabinet. I had a bead on the propane tank hooked to the grill, the teen with the bloodied face pulled a pistol from his pants and fired, I fired.
The whole back of the house was engulfed in flames, the only remnants of the kid with the pistol was a smeared red stain on the patio, the other kid wasn't as lucky. He laid there in the grass, a sharp piece of wood from the window frame was stuck into his back, the side of his face was singed and he was missing both of his feet. He was talking now, a thick southern draw, almost a whisper. "I thought you was a bad man, me and my brother kill bad men...they don't kill us." He died there, face down in the grass.
I laughed under my breathe, as I saw an motionless zonbie sprawled on the street. My attetion came back to jack, repeating his question in my mind. I stood silent, my mind, surpisingly, blank.
"It's only on Avenue D. Form my guess, it's not that far away." I said quickly. I felt like everything was being rushed, this day. From running away from a maoning zombie, to that horde of zombies that we almost ran into. It seemed like the sun never came down from it's position, and the light nevere faded. Always keeping it's rich tone of blue with white clouds.
Jack let out a murmur, slinking down in his chair, fidiling with the gun her found.
"And don't call me girlie, anythin but girlie." I said,sending imaginary knives into jack. I hated being called that name, it was the one thing that annoyed me the most.
Last edited by Ultimateanon on Sun Sep 04, 2011 5:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.
James didn't understand what the hell Guy was trying to do, got super confused, got writers' block 30 billion times trying to write some sort of anything that made sense, realized that this SB's gone to Hell in a hand-basket and bashed his fucking head in with a stick.
Last edited by ABoyAndHisFlyingYeti on Sat Sep 03, 2011 1:16 am, edited 3 times in total.
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