Zacharie
Truly Feared
The Proxy
Posts: 247
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Post by Zacharie on Nov 5, 2012 18:23:03 GMT -6
Zacharie looked at him with a raised brow and responded with a mildly insulted tone. "Just who do you think I am?" He asked rhetorically, cutting Ian off before he could answer. "Of course I know how to hot-wire a car." He gestured to himself with a hand to his chest. The act of grand theft auto was something that he was familiar enough with, not all spies have their own getaway cars at the ready during the Cold War.
"We are going to end up making noise no matter what we do. In the long run I would rather a vehicle between me and those things than navigating the streets on foot. It will be messy, but efficient." The spy said as he turned on his heel quickly to look for something like a truck or van. They were going to need something sturdy or at least large enough to carry whatever number of wayward mercenaries they would pick up along the way.
"Two things though;" He began, making sure the medic was keeping up with his long-legged stride. "It's going to take time, I estimate about five or so minutes, and I will need electrical tape and a screwdriver." Zacharie spoke quickly and precisely, trying to keep his thoughts and words organized under the pressure of the approaching threat. In the distance they spilled into the parking lot like swarming insects.
"So let's hope that Lady Luck is smiling on us and we find an abandoned vehicle with the keys still in the ignition."
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Ian
Truly Feared
Posts: 244
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Post by Ian on Nov 5, 2012 19:47:12 GMT -6
He was slightly startled by the Spy's abrupt response to his question -- no offense had been intended by his words. But even still, Ian stayed close to Zacharie as they traversed the parking lot in search of a usable vehicle. He listened intently to the older male's explanations, nodding here and there to acknowledge that he understood the situation. A quick look towards the street told him the hostiles had breached their lot, slowly but surely closing in on the two. The Medic felt his legs quiver upon realizing just how close they'd be cutting their time.
Ian called out to Zach before handing the hefty nail gun over to him. "...I'll go get your supplies." Uncertainty lingered with his tone as he turned back towards the hardware store. "If you find that you don't need them -- just shoot. It pops... I'll hear it." He figured splitting up the tasks was absolutely necessary to accommodate their limited window of time. And so, after a moment of hesitation, he set off to disappear into the hardware store for the third, and hopefully final time.
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Post by taikiakako on Nov 5, 2012 20:13:09 GMT -6
Her gun lowered to the sight of Gordon taking down that zombie gracefully done. Seemed to be more professional too. That's when she noticed that this man was no ordinary civilian. Had to be a skilled fighter for a long while. Her thoughts where chained on to the fact that he could take care of himself out here. But otherwise with the effort he put in he still was only one person. A truce could be in order but it was only just a quick thought. That zombie killing machine would also have to agree, Also depended if he could be trusted. After him taking off the zombie arm she reached to the end of the building top. She kneed down to take a better look upon Gordon. "You seem like you can take care of your self out here, Where did you collect those skills?" She had to keep this talk quick as possible and kept on high alert for more of the undead arriving like a cornered rat. The area seemed to be hordeless for now. There was still danger lurking around however. Something was bound to happen and she could feel it deep in her bones.
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Post by ruthjims on Nov 5, 2012 20:51:54 GMT -6
"I don't know!" Ruth wanted to yell but still said in a hushed tone. She was clenching her gun white knuckles and all. "What're we supposed to do!?" She didn't like Eric but that doesn't mean that they can't work together.
Her eyes darted around the creepy scenery, staring daggers at anything that made a noise even though it was only the cold breeze. Ruth was fed up with all this squirming and needed to get out of here soon.
((So sorry for leaving you hanging, Grace.))
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Zacharie
Truly Feared
The Proxy
Posts: 247
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Post by Zacharie on Nov 5, 2012 21:34:58 GMT -6
He held the nail gun in his other hand and examined it for a moment with brief curiosity. Zacharie certainly hadn’t much experience with hardware or power tools, but it had a bright red trigger on it, it was the only thing the spy needed to know. He put his revolver in its holster for the time being and gave Ian a nod before he ran off to the hardware store once more. While it was a good idea to divide up the task at hand, it was still dangerous to keep splitting up so constantly. Zacharie made a mental note to follow him if he decided to bolt again.
Only seconds after the two parted ways Zacharie began to run through the lot, scanning for trucks or vans in the immediate area. This was a small town in the mountainsides of Oregon, surely those kinds of vehicles were not uncommon. He spotted a few, stopping at them and pulling on handles as he went. All locked, even a perfectly good utility van of some sort. “Come on, c'est une casse-couilles!” He grumbled with frustration as he shook the handle on it several times. Nothing, none of the doors were unlocked. These must have all been customers in the store. He had no choice at that point, he had to try and break into it. There was no time to try and do some fancy lock picking; he had to smash the window.
Pulling back the arm that held the nail gun, he readied himself and—
“Oh.”
In the reflection of the window he saw something even better; it was a rather large red pickup truck. Zacharie turned around and lowered his arm, and it was just a few parking spots down. He made his way over to it quickly, it was perfect. Immediately he went for the handle, almost stumbling backwards as the door gave way relatively easy. It was open! Thank the stars!
But right as he opened the door he was greeted with its former driver, snarling and snapping at him as an undead man began to stumble out of the front seat. It must have been lying down in the front, waiting for some to disturb it. Attempting to get some distance, Zacharie nearly dropped the nail gun as he switched hands and reached into his coat for his revolver. The man reached out and grasped and tore Zacharie’s coat, attempting to bring him closer for a bite. Cursing as he struggled to pull away, Zacharie brought up his revolver to the creature’s head at point-blank and pulled the trigger.
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Post by Franciska on Nov 5, 2012 21:52:01 GMT -6
"Yeah, I'm alright." Enough zombies were already converging on their location that Fran hardly thought yelling could hurt anymore. At least to make sure Achille knew where she was. It seemed the two were caught in a rather vicious chain. One small group of zombies finds them and cries out to the others who join the swarm, thus making even more noise and attracting even more. And since the two of them were of a small handful of living humans remaining in the small town, they must be a very appetizing prey.
"Agreed." Losing their undead pursuers was optimal but unlikely. She'd found on previous occasions that few things could rip their attention away from a potential meal. "What we really need is a distraction. Something big and loud." It occurred to her that such a thing could have the added benefit of letting the rest of the team know where they were as well. All the more reason to get this plan in motion.
Opting to save her precious remaining bullets for an emergency, Fran instead pulled out her bonesaw, hacking away at the arms and fingers of any who stumbled too close. Their brittle bones snapped with ease under the sharp blade, giving the medic the chance to push past and continue on her way. She winced at every drop of blood that splattered her clothes. She was more than used to a little blood yes, she was far more afraid of the infection it carried. Come on...come on...there's got to be something around here we can use... Whatever it was, she better find it fast. More undead were pouring into the streets from the nearby alleys, converging into one shrieking mass of rotting bodies. "Do you see anythi- Oh. Right..." Fran quickly covered up her mistake. "Well, do you think we could set off some of these car alarms? I think that would do the trick."
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Post by Achille on Nov 5, 2012 22:20:37 GMT -6
Achille chuckled at her slip of the tongue, taking it as he normally did such comments. Most people were not used to dealing with someone like himself and the current situation was certainly not helping Fran to cope with his disability. But that was a subject to discuss at a different time, as a strange pressure on the toe of his thick boot reminded him. Raising his other leg, Achille stomped down on the skull of the zombie that had attempted to bite through the thick material of his boot, caving in the skull and splattering his pants and boots with gore and grey matter.
"I believe a car alarm would do the job quite nicely." He answered, pausing long enough to sidestep a clumsy swipe by another shrieking zombie before hooking it's neck with a high kick that slammed it onto the trunk of a car, splattering more gore about. "Give me just a moment."
Following the scent of gasoline, Achille was able to locate the vehicle with the punctured gas tank and, after a moments feeling around, drove his elbow through the driver side window. Almost immediately the air was filled with the sound of the car alarm blaring. Moving away and back toward where Fran was, Achille grinned.
"Lead the way."
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Post by Franciska on Nov 5, 2012 23:33:30 GMT -6
"Uh, o-okay then!" Fran said, her voice lost under the shrill, blasting alarm. He went about setting it off a little earlier than she was expecting, but there are certainly no taking it back now. Every zombie in sight turned its attention to the loud honking and the flashing headlights, stumbling over one another to sluggishly bang at the side of the vehicle. And of course there's the fact that everyone in town, living or dead now knows exactly where they are. Wow she really didn't think this one through too well at all. Not wasting any more time, Fran simply reached back and grabbed Achille by the arm and pulled him forward and away from their pursuers.
The distraction was defiantly working; most every zombie they passed hardly glanced in their direction as they mindlessly shuffled toward the source of the commotion. Fran kept close to the line of buildings, mostly to stay out of sight but also to stay away from the parked cars to avoid another mishap. With all the company they had, she could hardly afford to end up on the ground again. Her legs were already starting to ache, but she pushed on anyway.
A deserted gas station lay ahead of them, the general area relatively zombie-free and quickly clearing out. Still yanking her partner along behind her, Fran ducked inside the small continence store, wasting no time in pulling the shelves over to barricade the door. Once she was sure they were safe for the moment, she slumped over the counter, head in her hands. This was, by far, much much worse than she thought. Nearly the entire town had been wiped out in such a short amount of time, the streets now filled with walking corpses. It was quite overwhelming to think about. If only Fran had known the first rule of zombies: one zombie will not stay one zombie for long.
Now that she had a moment to rest, Fran realized just how close she came to an untimely death. The very idea of coming back as one of those half-rotten, drooling monsters...No, best not to think of such things now. She could feel her hands begin to shake already and dwelling on it would just make it worse. She decided to keep them busy instead.
11/4/68 ?:?? PM - They react very well to loud noises.
Fran scrawled down the words as she let out a heavy sigh. And the clean up? That was a whole new nightmare she'd hardly yet considered. Of course, she'd have to get back to her lab first if she was to have any chance of putting this whole mess right. She ran her fingers through her hair.
"I would say you can go ahead and grab anything you want. I do not think anyone would really mind at this point." If he'd gotten this far he was probably well aware of this, Fran just needed something to strike up a conversation.
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Ian
Truly Feared
Posts: 244
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Post by Ian on Nov 5, 2012 23:34:14 GMT -6
Ian wasted no time bursting through the entrance of the hardware store once again. His pace didn't slow either, as he barreled across a few of the sunlit aisles -- determined to track down the small list of items Zacharie might need to net them a working vehicle.
The electrical tape was easy; he snagged a roll of the unmistakable black sticky stuff from the wiring section without even needing to look at it. The screwdrivers? That was tougher. When he got to the section of the shop with them all lined up according to type, Ian had to stop. Did Zach explain what kind of screwdriver he needed...?
For a second, panic flared up inside the Medic. What if he'd actually been told and forgotten? There were so many types and sizes here, and Ian had absolutely no clue which one would suffice. He couldn't possibly take them all, either. Closing his eyes, he placed a hand to his head in frustration. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do...
After taking a moment to breathe, he ended up retrieving one of each standard type, all medium sized. He'd just have to hope they would work, because there wouldn't be enough time for another trip. The sound of a gunshot prevented him from thinking any more on the matter though, and a worried Ian began briskly making his way out of the store.
Focusing more on getting outside than what was around him, the young man hardly noticed when his foot thumped against something occupying a chair. A chair sitting in one of the corners completely shrouded by darkness in the powerless building.
And, before he knew it, Ian was floored onto his back. With a body on top of him.
It wasn't dead.
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Post by Achille on Nov 6, 2012 0:13:49 GMT -6
Achille was a bit surprised when Fran grabbed a hold of him and began to drag him along behind her, though he didn't complain. It was obvious that they should get away from the car alarm as well as the growing number of townsfolk and as the only one able to actually see it made sense that Fran would lead the way. Though Achille made sure to slap a few townspeople as they dashed past them, setting them alight as they continued to blindly stumble toward the car alarm and the puddle of gasoline that was growing around it. He gave it another three minutes before something lit it up like a Christmas tree. Pity he couldn't stick around.
By the time they entered another building Achille had managed to light up an additional twenty three townsfolk, never having to pause once as they all continued on toward the car alarm. Smiling, Achille found himself waiting by a window, counting down until when he guessed the car would go off. From behind him he heard Fran writing something, though he couldn't think what she might be writing about given the situation. Maybe she remembered something she wanted to add to her grocery list.
"I would say you can go ahead and grab anything you want. I do not think anyone would really mind at this point." He heard her say, recognizing it for the icebreaker that it was. He turned around and smiled, both at her and at the fact that the dull thud he had just heard signaled that the car with the alarm had just lit up. And only seven seconds past his estimated time.
Reaching a hand up, Achille massaged his neck a bit as he answered. "Nah. That's alright. Nothing I really need right now unless they've started selling flamethrowers at your average thrift shop." He chuckled a bit at his own humor before realizing that Fran wouldn't understand what he meant. It wasn't like she was a mercenary after all. Feeling around quickly Achille found what felt like a heavy duty tub of some sort and sat down on it before speaking again.
"So how exactly did you wind up in that department store anyway?" He asked, genuinely curious what series of events had eventually led up to his still rather humorous rescue-by-shopping-cart. He reached up and began to pick at the bandages on his forehead as he realized how much it was starting to irritate him.
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Zacharie
Truly Feared
The Proxy
Posts: 247
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Post by Zacharie on Nov 6, 2012 0:32:04 GMT -6
All it took was a single shot to dispatch the ghoul, sending a heavy amount of blood and rotting flesh splattering to the ground as the bullet exited through its lower jaw. The hand that was gripping onto Zacharie’s coat held on tightly and nearly ripped off his left sleeve as it went limp and began to fall out of the truck. He stepped back and frowned in disgust as it fell to the ground with a loud thud. The sudden stench of the corpse became very apparent, it was also probably just as bad inside the truck. Kicking it aside as he threw the nail gun onto the passenger’s seat, he took a single step over it and gripped onto the door and peeked inside. Sure enough there was a key in still wedged in the ignition, what perfect luck. It was no surprise to him at all, his luck was always perfect.
Zacharie stepped over the corpse and into the open again to look for Ian. He hadn’t emerged from the store yet. He shook his left arm a bit to reveal his wrist watch; it was 2:42 pm. If he wasn’t back within the next three minutes he would have to go in after him. As he looked away from his watch he noticed that his left sleeve was ripped and bloody. It really wasn't going to be long before his suit was ruined in some fashion, was it? Tucking his revolver back into his shoulder holster, he pulled the coat off and tossed it onto the driver’s seat of the car next to the nail gun. His precious cigarettes would have to stay in his coat pocket until they were needed.
He was then reminded that he still had a burning cigarette hanging out of his mouth. In fact a good bit of it burned into ash during his search and scuffle with the zombie. Zacharie hurried to take what was probably the last decent drag off of it before flicking the butt onto the corpse that lay on the ground before him. After he finished he reached into the truck and picked up the nail gun; he figured it was about time for that warning shot.
Aiming at the fallen zombie in front of him, he squeezed the trigger and watched few nails fly into it. Pop! Pop!
2:43 pm.
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Ian
Truly Feared
Posts: 244
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Post by Ian on Nov 6, 2012 1:52:13 GMT -6
(( oh my god you guys i am so sorry for this monster of a post ))
The 'pop' sounds rang out, but were unfortunately smothered by the ringing in Ian's ears. It took a moment for his senses to come back to him, sights swirling as a result of the impact with the wood floor. He let out a huff once the pain kicked in, the inhale that followed catching a whiff of decaying flesh that had him pinned to the ground. The zombie was so close he could smell its rancid breath, flooding the insides of his nose once more and only amplifying the young man's already peaking fear.
Ian was absolutely terrified.
The way the two were positioned -- even though his arms were free -- there was no hope in reaching down for the handsaw at his waist. The Medic tried to remedy this by shoving the enemy off, but he lacked the strength and leverage to do so. If anything, his efforts only made the zombie more restless; it began snarling even louder and clawing around more rapidly. Maybe it saw how helpless its prey looked under him, and found more determination in that. Either way, it was working... the creature began inching its way up towards Ian's face.
Discovering this, he felt more panic setting in. Hands still on the undead's shoulders, Ian held it off as best as he could while his eyes darted around looking for something, anything that could help him. He was about to give up when his vision moved to his right hand, which still contained the two screwdrivers he'd picked up just a minute ago. There was no other choice... but would it even work?
Fighting off the creature with his left, the Medic dropped one of the tools in his right and positioned the other so it stuck from the bottom of his fist. Moving his arm as far to the side as possible, he drove the screwdriver into his attacker's skull with a laboring grunt. Somehow, he'd found the strength to pierce through the bone and other innards with a disgusting 'squelch'. It didn't take long for the towering body to cease all actions and fall limp over him.
Ian, still frantic and filled with adrenaline, wasted no time throwing the lifeless form away from him. He quickly stood up and examined himself in the dim lighting. Other than a hell of a lot of claw marks on his sweater and a bruise forming on the back of his head, he seemed to be okay. Well there was that, and the brain gore now soaking itself into the top of his shirt.
He pulled the navy jacket off of his waist, tugging and zipping the garment over him. The small amounts of blood from before were dry now, and it looked a lot better overall than the now-matted sweater underneath. From the floor, he retrieved three things. Two of them being the screwdrivers -- one requiring a dislodging from the punctured head. The last thing he picked up was the trucker cap of his assailant, cleaning it with a sleeve and placing it neatly over his brown hair.
After everything that had happened? He wanted something to remind him later that today wasn't just a dream.
Now completely fed up with the events transpiring that afternoon, Ian slowly exited the hardware store. He stopped in the doorway, looking much more worse for wear than when he entered. Displaying a facial expression that mirrored his current condition, he scanned the parking lot. Once he found a coatless Zacharie positioned near the open door of a pickup truck, he nodded tiredly and started towards him.
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Post by Franciska on Nov 6, 2012 7:49:24 GMT -6
Now that he mentioned it, there wasn't really anything around the store Fran particularly needed either. She hadn't eaten all day but given the sights she'd seen, she wasn't much in the mood for snacks. She raised an eyebrow at the last part, however. "Flamethrower...?" That was certainly...odd. Naturally she could only picture one thing at the mention of the word: a crazed, mute lunatic in a fireproof suit and a gas mask lighting up everything in sight. Surely he meant it as a joke.
Fran climbed up on the counter and took a seat before answering his question. "Well, I kinda just needed a place to hide for a moment. Once I climbed up there, they wouldn't leave so I was stuck." At the time, she had panicked, so shocked she was to see dozens of creatures instead of the two she came searching for. Lucky she chose that perch, she was able to make some good observations. Even if she almost got herself eaten.
"What about you though?" Fran said, adjusting her smudged glasses as she spoke. "Did you happen to be in town when...'this' started?" What she truly wanted to know if he'd seen any undead wearing red like herself, but she already knew it was pointless.
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Zacharie
Truly Feared
The Proxy
Posts: 247
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Post by Zacharie on Nov 6, 2012 10:25:30 GMT -6
In the panic of the moment the spy forgot to check one of the more important things about his new find-- could it run? Logic dictated that if the key was in the ignition, surely it would. But doubt started to settle in as he watched the carnage around him. Quickly he turned and leaned into the truck again, turning the key in the ignition forward several clicks. The truck came to life suddenly, the engine roared up and the warning lights flashed on the dashboard and faded. He heaved a sigh of relief, thank goodness that it was also an automatic transmission. If he had done that with a manual it would have stalled the truck. He turned the key back and the engine went quiet again, shortly after he emoved the key and kept it in his right hand.
2:44 pm.
To Zacharie that whole minute felt like an hour, eagerly watching the area for any more zombies that could pop up out of the blue. He also kept watch on the approaching group, they were half way across the lot now. They must have been alerted to his presence with the sound of the nail gun, a few were trailing off the horde and heading in his direction. Standing by the red truck with a sharp eye darting between the entrance and the incoming horde, he finally saw Ian exit the store a second time. They were roughly 100 feet from each other, but he could easily tell that the younger man looked ragged, even more so than he did when they first met.
With a furrowed brow he nodded back to Ian, stepping into the truck and finally sitting in the driver’s seat. He threw his coat and the nail gun onto the back seats and fastened his seat belt; which would either be a life saver or a hindrance at this point. The inside of the truck certainly didn't smell pleasant due to it's former owner, but it also appeared to be relatively well kept at least. After shutting the driver's side door he adjusted the rear-view mirror to his height. He noted the parking tag that hung from it. Perhaps this truck belonged to some sort of laborer or someone who worked at one of the legitimate sawmills in the area. He inserted the key into the ignition and started up the truck again, the truck rumbled and shook a bit as it came back to life. Next he checked the fuel gauge: half full. That would just be enough to take them back to base he was certain. Almost.
After settling in he reached over and pulled the handle on the passenger’s side door to unlock it. Zacharie figured after whatever that medic had just endured to get supplies he didn’t need he would give him a break and take the wheel. Meanwhile he kept an eye on Ian through the windows as he approached the truck, ready to jump out at a moment's notice in case the young man was ambushed again.
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Ian
Truly Feared
Posts: 244
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Post by Ian on Nov 6, 2012 12:21:25 GMT -6
Fortunately for once, nothing was waiting to attack the young man this time. He shuffled across the lot, only stopping for a brief moment to inspect a thick cloud of black smoke billowing up from somewhere a little ways off from them. Something had managed to cause a large scale fire... maybe an explosion?
When he got near the truck, that's when Ian noticed the corpse slumped over near the driver's side. That's right... he'd heard a gunshot while in the store earlier too. From the looks of it, Zacharie managed well... probably a lot better than the Medic had, anyway.
With nothing else to note besides the still invading mass of undead, Ian stepped into the truck. At first, he didn't say anything; gently letting the tools -- one heavily caked in bodily fluids -- and tape slide down the dashboard. Not wanting to leave himself unarmed again, he searched for his nail gun, retrieving it from the back seat under a slightly torn red coat. When he turned back around, the BLU quickly buckled up and adjusted the cap on his head.
"Sorry I took so long." He piped up quietly after situating himself, tone short. In reality he knew it had been out of his hands, but Ian felt the need to apologize anyway. It was nice of the Spy to wait on him, at least.
But then he moved to more important matters. "That fire. Do you think it was man-made...?" Referring to the column of smoke he witnessed outside. With any luck, one of their teammates had set something off to ash a group of hostiles and to signal others. He wouldn't put it past someone like Achille to do just that.
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