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Post by Achille on Nov 4, 2012 22:18:46 GMT -6
Achille paused for a moment when he heard the cry for help, more so he could triangulate the source than out of surprise. He had expected there to be someone nearby after all. Apparently whomever was calling for help was several feet in front and above him, and if the other noises from that direction were any indication they were standing on top of something that a number of townsfolk were attempting to beat down with their fists.
Figuring that the townspeople were not interested in him at the moment, Achille decided to call out to the woman.
"I don't see why I'd want to eat you. Unless you're made of Swiss chocolate of course." Achille said, reaching around for something he was certain his foot had bumped against a moment ago, "Give me a moment while I try to find a sh- Oh here we are!" He had found exactly what he was looking for and, grabbing a hold of it to make sure it didn't escape his grasp, began to grab things around him and toss them inside of it.
The zombies below the woman were too occupied with trying to climb over themselves in an attempt to get to her to notice or hear the overloaded shopping cart barreling towards them until it smashed into their flank. Numerous items of clothing, food, and household appliances were tossed into the air, knocking down and tripping up even more of the undead. Achille, the one driving the cart, was not far behind it, wading through the writhing mass of disoriented undead that were struggling to regain their footing, only to trip themselves up over their brethren. Two did manage to get up though and Achille dealt with them as quickly as he could, delivering a powerful kick to the chest that launched one into the other and back onto the slowly recovering pile of zombies.
"Well, I hope that worked as well as it sounds like it did!" Achille called up to the woman, grabbing a hold of the overturned shopping cart and righting it before motioning to the now empty interior. "If you would care to jump in we can make our rather comical way out of here miss."
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Gordon
Sufficiently Lethal
RED Sniper
Posts: 179
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Post by Gordon on Nov 4, 2012 22:30:17 GMT -6
Though he was slightly alarmed as she pointed the gun at him, he let it go as she put it away to talk.
"Gordon." He replied with a single word, his name, to answer her question. "And you are?"
Before he could say anything else, he felt a cold hand clamp onto his ankle as a zombie, crawling up to him opened it's mouth wide for a bite, to sink into his leg. Seeing the undead creep onto him like that caused him to give it a great hit with the butt of the shotgun against the top of his skull before the zombie got a chance to bite him. The shotgun pierced through the top of the skull and skewered the zombie's head from the top to his jaw as he mouth still hung open. The hand was still grasping onto his ankle tightly but the corpse fell limply. Gordon gently pushed the zombie away from him with the shotgun but to his horror and disgust the zombie's arm separated from the rest of its body with a crunch and a crack. The arm was latched onto his ankle as he ripped it off, throwing it aside.
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Ian
Truly Feared
Posts: 244
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Post by Ian on Nov 4, 2012 23:03:22 GMT -6
Ian had only taken a few more steps through the smoke-filled street before yet another sound stopped him. "No." He denied Zach's compliment with a tone completely devoid of emotion. "It's... not dead." He turned back to the zombie he'd just decapitated, watching for a second as its head writhed around and snarled; still desperate to try anything for a bite out of him. A shoe was raised and lowered onto its skull three times before it fell silent for good.
Sighing, Ian faced the Spy again. It was a bit easier the second time, but participating in an event that looked to have come straight out of a horror movie still left the Medic quite shaken up. He silently shifted his way to meet with the only other living thing he'd seen this whole time, glancing a bit around him to check for more hostiles.
"I... don't suppose you know where my team is -- do you?" He asked, fidgeting nervously with the tied sleeves of his coat. He really have much hope for a positive answer, seeing as the man was just as alone as he was. He held out for them though, knowing the three of wouldn't let themselves get offed too easily.
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Post by Franciska on Nov 4, 2012 23:14:42 GMT -6
Fran's face broke into a grin when the man not only noticed her, but gave a coherent response. Maybe she'd live another day yet. Tucking her journal in her belt and still tightly holding the revolver, she crawled as close to the edge of the display as she dared.
She wasn't as smartly dressed for the situation as she could have been, in her stockings and somewhat tight-fitting skirt she usually wore around her office. Her sweater covered her arms, but wasn't nearly thick enough to provide any real protection against hungry mouths. She swapped her heels for the muddied boots usually reserved for the battlefield and she wore her thick belt with pouches full of miscellaneous medical supplies. None of the treatments she tried on the dead had any effect, but at least she had enough on her to tend to the living.
"Oh thank God you are here!" Her cries of joy were slightly muffled from behind her surgical mask. She ignored the Swiss chocolate comment, mostly because she didn't get it. Fran stayed put and watched as the man loaded a shopping cart with goods. What was he planning on- oh. He barreled through the shambling hoard, knocking them over like bowling pins. Their limited brain function and lack of coordination left them tripping all over themselves until they lay in a tangled heap. Those that remained upright were quickly put in their place with a powerful and well-placed kick.
Hmm, he seems like he knows what he's doing. Going by his physical appearance alone, she wouldn't be surprised if he had some kind of military background. She blessed her luck that someone so capable would happen to come to her rescue.
Her savior pushed the cart close and motioned for her to jump in. It was certainly unconventional, but she was too thankful for a chance to survive to get a chuckle out of the strange circumstances. Fran slid to the edge of the display, taking the briefest of moments to pull down her skirt so he wouldn't see anything he shouldn't, and dropped down into the awaiting basket. She banged her elbow pretty hard on the cart's side, but she was otherwise unharmed.
"If you do not mind, I think we should be on our way!" She said breathlessly, turning and nodding to the man.
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Post by Achille on Nov 4, 2012 23:30:33 GMT -6
"If you do not mind, I think we should be on our way!" the woman said once she had landed inside the shopping cart, hurting herself a bit in the process from the sound of it. But personal injury would have to wait seeing as the townsfolk around them were beginning to get back up. Achille grunted in reply to her as he launched the cart, the woman, and himself forward, bowling down one of the townspeople who had managed to regain his or her balance. By the time the undead were once again upright, the pair were already quite a ways away, the shopping cart rattling loudly as they went.
Achille had, thus far, managed to keep the cart steady and straight in the middle of the aisle, something of an achievement given his disability. But even he knew that luck would run out eventually.
"You may want to start giving me directions." Achille said to the woman in the cart, leaning in in such a manner that he could be heard but also so that she might be able to notice his sightless eyes. Then, figuring that learning her driver was a blind man might panic the woman decided to add "Just tell me where to go!" The smile he wore on his face was, as with most of his smiles, quite genuine.
Achille found it hard not to enjoy most situations.
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Zacharie
Truly Feared
The Proxy
Posts: 247
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Post by Zacharie on Nov 4, 2012 23:57:10 GMT -6
He watched with interest as the medic snuffed out the zombie with a few thorough stomps. “I see. So it’s the brain that is keeping them alive.” He noted aloud, but mostly to himself. Holding his cigarette in his left and his revolver in his right, he continued to observe the immediate area one more time as Ian did. Two eyes were certainly better than one in this case. Although it was true the spy would not be quick to admit this aloud.
“No, I did not, I am afraid.” Zacharie spoke with a more hushed tone now, his mind had finally made the connection that noise attracted them. Which could also possibly mean the ones shambling on the other side of the street may have been further alerted to their presence. “In fact you are the first living soul I’ve encountered since being here.” He answered Ian with a very matter-of-fact and calm voice, it contrasted heavily with the other’s nervous and shaken tone.
“But there are more of those damned things across the street from here.” Zacharie quickly put his cigarette back in his mouth and readied his gun one more time in case of any more sudden attacks. “Was there anything in that hardware store left taking?”
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Ian
Truly Feared
Posts: 244
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Post by Ian on Nov 5, 2012 3:05:53 GMT -6
Oddly enough, the Spy's calm demeanor did a decent job of easing Ian's nerves, if only by a little bit. Even if Zach had never been a normal ally of his, having someone there that wasn't an immediate threat was better than nothing. At least he wasn't trying to sink his teeth into the Medic. Yes, that was one less problem for him to worry about.
"Uh, nothing in particular." He replied to the Spy's question dryly, thumping the side of his weapon against his leg mindlessly. To be honest, Ian hadn't gotten a good look inside the shop before bailing it to exit the town, but he assumed nothing in there could be too useful. The handsaw he'd retrieved from it was a blessing though -- albeit slightly larger and heavier than the bonesaw model he was accustomed to. That, if anything, only provided him with a bit more tactical advantage... made apparent just moments ago.
But then, he realized something. "Wait... yes." Talking to himself more than anything, Ian turned and darted back into the hardware store. After a short time of searching whilst avoiding the first decapitated head he'd left in there, he found what he was looking for.
A few faint 'pop' sounds could be heard inside before the young man emerged from the building again, toting a few new objects. On one of his belt loops rested a blade casing; the handle of his saw protruding from the top. In his left hand now... a nail gun. It was definitely no syringe gun, but it would suffice for the time being. Who would have guessed garage tools would be so similar to medic equipment?
As he stepped along, he was accompanied by the small sound of shaking coming from the coat pockets hanging off his waist. Boxes of nails. He'd also grabbed an extra battery for the gun, just in case. And the last item? Ian tossed a half-full pack of cigarettes in Zacharie's direction.
"Those were... on the counter." He explained, taking a second to glance around them. The two didn't seem to be in any urgent danger... yet. He nodded in the direction of the other side of the street. "What should we do, then?"
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Post by Franciska on Nov 5, 2012 8:40:28 GMT -6
Fran clutched the sides of the cart, bracing herself for the jolt when they ran down another ravenous towns-person. "Directions? Why do you--" Her question was cut short as the man leaned close, giving her a clear view of his milky white pupils. "Oh. Oh!" Fran nodded with understanding, not that he could see it. "Alright then! Well in that case, you are going to want to turn left here! There is another set of doors leading outside!" That was their only way out if they didn't want to deal with the mob. Provided of course, there weren't even more waiting for them outside. Not a lot they could do about that other than hope.
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Post by Achille on Nov 5, 2012 9:17:00 GMT -6
The cart jerk suddenly to the left as Achille used his weight and legs to change it's direction suddenly, almost causing it to spill over in the process. Luckily, the woman's weight kept the cart steady enough for him to return all of the wheels on the ground and they were back to full speed in no time. Only once during their escape did one of the townspeople manage to attack them and all Achille had to do to deal with them was give them a righteous slap across the face as he went. The small explosion of heat and frantic shrieking from behind him after they passed assured Achille that the townsman wouldn't bother them again.
It was obvious to Achille when he and the woman had exited the department store by the change in temperature and sound. That and the fact that the moment the shopping cart hit the street it somehow managed to launch the both of them into the air to land several feet away. Due to some strange happenings, it was Achille and not the woman who landed first, his jacket taking much of the impact and keeping him from injuring himself too much.
"Thank god for dead catt-" He began to say, right before the woman landed right on top of him, driving the sentence out of him. Coughing heavily from the sudden loss of air, Achille was pleased to find that none of his bones felt broken, though he could feel blood dripping down his face a bit from a minor cut on his forehead. At least the woman was safe. Or so he assumed she was since she had managed to land almost perfectly on his back.
"Mind letting me up?" he said from under her, coughing still.. He could already hear the shrieks and moans growing louder and more frequent, both from inside the store and out on the streets.
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Zacharie
Truly Feared
The Proxy
Posts: 247
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Post by Zacharie on Nov 5, 2012 9:26:32 GMT -6
Zacharie raised an eyebrow in curiosity as the Medic suddenly bolted back into the store. He stood carefully there for a moment, taking another look back at the street behind him. Sure enough the zombies that were shambling just across the street were starting to gradually make their way towards them. Biting on the filter of his cigarette a bit as he frowned in annoyance, Zacharie briskly walked towards the hardware store. He should have followed Ian in, but then again what good would that have done?
But right as he was about to get impatient and break into a run, he heard odd popping sounds come from the hardware store. His footsteps faltered a bit as he slowed down and he tightened the grip on the revolver at his side. Another short second later Ian emerged from the store with a few more items. His frown faded as he stopped to catch the pack of cigarettes, examining the contents. Half full, a cheap brand, but they were certainly better than nothing. A hint of a grin began to show as he tucked the cigarettes away into the coat pocket where his case was.
“Excellent.” He patted his coat and nodded approvingly to the young man. The Medic certainly knew how to make allies. Zacharie took a moment to see what else he had brought out, a nail gun? Aside from an actual chain saw that was likely going to be the best thing he could find there. From the looks of it he was unarmed before he got the saw as well. This reminded Zacharie to make a mental note; he had only two more clips of revolver ammo left.
“Well, we need to find our team mates, obviously. I assume they’re still in the town.” He paused for a moment and looked to the side; the all too familiar sound of a rifle being shot could be heard in the distance. “That would be one of our dutiful snipers. We need to find a way around these things without wasting too much of our ammunition.” Zacharie said as he turned towards the street, a smaller handful of the zombies were starting to enter the parking lot.
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Post by Franciska on Nov 5, 2012 9:48:41 GMT -6
Fran gasped as he suddenly lurched to the left, nearly dumping her on the floor. She would have yelled at him to be more careful, but considered that he was actually doing exceptionally well given the circumstances. The cart burst through the door, giving Fran a nose-full of the stagnant stench of decay that hung over the town. She let go of the side of the cart to cover her face just as the front wheels hit the curb, sending the two spilling onto the pavement. It took a short moment for her to regain enough of her sense to realize she was laying on top of the man. "Oh, err...sorry about that." Fran let out a embarrassed chuckle as she rolled off and got back on her feet.
She turned and saw to her dismay that the pack of zombies inside the store were already pressed against the glass doors, the force of their numbers pushing them open just far enough to fall back and smack on of them in the face. Despite their lack of coordination, they'd be spilling out on to the street far sooner than Fran would have hoped.
"Helvete! They move a lot faster than-" Turning to her partner, she found herself faced with a second crisis. "Oh God, your face!" The man had a gash across his forehead, not big enough to be serious, but enough to send a cascade of blood down his face. Fran hurriedly dug through the pouches on her belt, ever wary of the anxious horde mere yards away. Pulling out a roll of bandages, she began haphazardly wrapping them around the man's head. She wasn't looking for perfection, she just needed it covered.
"They carry the infection in their blood. If you were to get any of it in your open wounds...well, just don't do that. If you have any other cuts, make sure they're covered." She hastily explained as she tied the bandages tight.
"Alright, they're coming up behind us from the doors we just exited." She said, thinking it best if she continued to supply her impaired companion with information. "I can hear more coming down the street to the right. I have a saw, a revolver with five bullets, and some basic medical supplies." Fran spoke coolly, a bit more composed now that her life wasn't in such immediate danger.
"My name's Franciska, by the way. I am quite grateful for your assistance!"
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Post by Achille on Nov 5, 2012 10:31:27 GMT -6
Achille patted the bandages on his forehead, smiling oddly as he did. Perhaps it was the minor blood loss or something caused by the light head injury. Most likely though it was just that Achille had thought of something humorous involving bandages. Brushing himself off as he stood, Achille listened to the woman's words with mild interest, more focused on the sounds of the townspeople around them than on what she really had to say. He did manage to hear the woman give her name as Franciska though and felt it polite to respond to her in kind.
"Don't mention it. I was looking for some friends anyway and it wouldn't have been nearly as enjoyable just leaving you there." He said while turning his head at odd angles, attempting to catch any new sounds or smells that might be about. "I'm Achille by the way. Achille Moretti." He flashed the woman a smile before spitting out blood that had managed to seep its way into his mouth.
A sound from behind him forewarned Achille of an unwanted guest. Ducking quickly, Achille felt a pair of arms just barely brush against the top of his hair. No doubt the individual had planned to grab him by the back of the neck. Pity they weren't more quiet. Reaching up quickly, Achille took hold of the attacker's arms and, leaning backwards to ruin their balance, tugged down. The action resulted in the attacking being flipped forward to land full force on their neck, a sickening sound indicating a severed spinal column.
Oddly enough, Achille noticed that whoever it was was still able to snap their jaws at him, the distinct sound of teeth snapping shut over and over filling much of the air. A powerful kick to the skull that clearly broke something seemed to silence the man though. Grunting in satisfaction, Achille adjusted his jacket and ran a hand through his hair.
"Right, well, as much as I enjoy brutalizing unarmed townsfolk I feel we would be better served doing something elsewhere." He motioned opposite the direction in which a number of shrieks and moans were quickly approaching. "If you don't mind leading the way, I'll be right behind you."
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Ian
Truly Feared
Posts: 244
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Post by Ian on Nov 5, 2012 12:46:53 GMT -6
Ian frowned as he noticed the zombies coming towards the duo as well -- they were running short on time. And, unfortunately, Zach was right; they'd have to get past these undead to find the owner of the rifle that just sounded off.
His eyes began searching around frantically, trying to find any kind of idea to grasp onto. Since the Spy was rightfully against wasting too much ammo, Ian figured it would be best to use their wits instead. If this had been his city of origin, the Medic might have suggested to go up and over the buildings. But here, he couldn't find an easy way to get up to the roof. Bummer. Next, his vision fixated onto the few cars scattered through the lot. ...What if they could get one running?
"Uh--" He started, stuttering with the realization he was lost on the man's name. "Do you know how to... hot wire a car?" Because Ian certainly didn't. If anything, he hoped his question would at least turn some gears in the RED's mind. Maybe he could come up with something better -- finding ways around obstacles was his specialty, after all. "Or would that be too noisy..."
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Post by Franciska on Nov 5, 2012 13:18:16 GMT -6
Fran was about to raise her voice to alert Achille of the figure sneaking up on him, only to watch in impressed silence as he dispatched it with ease. Of course. If he got this far on his own, he certainly didn't need her to tell him what to do. "Right then!" She was sure to shout loud enough to be heard over the groans that quickly filled the street. The way to their left was the only option, all other paths blocked by a mass of undead that was growing by the second. That shopping cart must have made more noise than they thought.
Shoving a pale woman aside with a gloved hand, Fran bolted left, yelling back to her new companion as she ran. "What I really need is to find my team-" She realized how awkward that might sound to someone unfamiliar with her line of work. "My friends. Most of them are still in town. If they are still alive, I have to find them and get back to sawmill as soon as possible."
Fran hadn't the slightest clue where any of them could be. She had been too preoccupied with her missing 'patients' at the time to pay attention to why they were heading into town in the first place. If it proved to be too dangerous, their next priority would be to get out of town and reach the sawmill alone. Once she was back in her lab, Fran could have a chance to sort this all out. Hopefully.
She was jolted from her thoughts when her face met the pavement, a weak hand grabbing her by the ankle. A man in a tattered coat had been lying in wait underneath a parked car, reaching out at tripping her as she passed by. "Oh for God's sake." Fran said, more annoyed at being slowed down than she was worried about the creature's sluggish attack. Pulling herself upright, Fran aimed her stolen revolver at its face. She was a pretty miserable shot, but even someone as unskilled as she was would have a hard time missing at this range. She pulled the trigger and the cold hand instantly went limp. Four shots left. Fran made a mental note, wiping a bit of blood from her glasses and scrambling back to her feet.
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Post by Achille on Nov 5, 2012 14:35:04 GMT -6
Much like before, Achille was more interested in what was going on around him than in Fran's words and as such he managed to miss the little bit of information pertaining to the Sawmill, something he might have found of interest. Instead however, he chose to focus on the sound of her footsteps, which was not a completely easy task given the mass of townspeople coming towards them. It was lucky that they all seemed to be walking slowly or dragging their feet otherwise he might have been lost.
His concentration was broken however at the sound of Fran falling, causing him to stop in his tracks in order to try and figure out why. Stopping was the thing that ended up saving him coincidentally enough, as one of the undead lunged at him from between two abandoned cars, swinging at the empty air where he would have been. Achille's response was swift and measured, grabbing hold of the side of the zombie's head and slamming it against the side of one of the cars several times until it stopped moving, slumping to the ground. Almost at the same time a gun went off in the direction where Fran had fallen.
"You alright over here?" he asked her as he came up to where she was, "I think it might be best if we ditch our trail of psychopaths before we do anything... else..." Achille trailed off as he caught the scent of a very familiar and pleasing liquid. Gasoline. It appeared something or someone had punctured a gas tank and the ground around them was lightly peppered with the stuff. Achille counted himself lucky he hadn't decided to make a pyre out of the last townsman.
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