Welcome! This is a free-for-all Zombie RP.
Feel free to come and go as you please. Real pictures only.
Please do not control other people's characters or attempt to kill another character without permission.
It was quiet this far out from the resort, but there were still tell-tale sounds coming from that direction; gunfire mostly and a few shouts. She wasn't exactly concerned with an immediate retaliation, tactically it made no sense and they would have a lot of clean up to do, and not to mention they'd have to deal with the undead coming for them within forty klicks of the flare. Not to mention all the noise they were still intent on making. She could hear the whine of a rotary machine gun and assumed the insurrection would be over soon.
When Sara speaks to Lana, she looks and nods at the woman. [b “Agreed. A little rest and getting out of the cold will do everyone good.”] And she was right about the undead. With the truck shut off, the moonlight was the only thing they had as a source of light, so the dead she had called this way could come from anywhere. A slight inconvenience, but one she was aware of when she took the shot. That said, she still didn't want to deal with any runners, but the living were always more of a threat than the dead.
It took a moment, but Damien stood next to the bed of the truck, and when inquired on what to do next, Lana opened her mouth to say something, but it seemed his friend Michael beat her to the punch. A group that has been raiding military outposts and police stations? Sounds familiar. But Lana and her gang didn't eat people, so at least there was a line for them. If these people were as dangerous as Michael seemed to believe, then it would be most auspicious of them to prepare for a fight.
Lana was quiet for a moment longer, chewing on the information. Right now there wasn't much they could do except follow Sara's suggestion. The ex-soldier stands up and hopes over the bed of the truck and on to the ground, holding her hand out to Sara to also hop out. Lana assumed she'd need a ride. She nods to John who begins helping Henry to their jeep, but she stays for a moment longer to address her new acquaintances.
[b “Appreciate the help.”] And she nods her head to Michael. [b “And the information. If you plan on coming back home with us, you're more than welcome. If not, we'll be in touch, I'm sure.”] She did still owe Damien marksmanship lessons after all. She gives them a mock salute in passing as she moves back to her own Jeep, getting in to the passenger's seat. She had thins to think about now, not too much, but enough. She wasn't worried about a fight, they were far away from here, but it might be in their best interest to attack again before they themselves were attacked... And perhaps it was time to look at the 'paradise' that existed in this apocalypse. A safe place with food, water, farming, and uninfected people. A 'fantasy' in this life, but something Lana knew was real. It had to be.
[+red “Somethin' on your mind, boss?”] John asked as he started the engine and began to reverse back on to the road. The corner of her mouth twitches as she looks out the window at the other men.
[b “Something.”] She responds.
Sara's heart rate was a lot higher than normal, with the adrenaline running through her body as though it would never settle again but it reminded her of the old days when she used to work on the street, protecting the innocent from criminals who decided that the law did not apply to them. Though she would never say it aloud, this was what she had been missing these last few years. Perhaps behind alone was not all she had made it up to be because protecting these people gave her a sense of purpose that she had not felt in a long time.
It wasn't too long before John was confirming that their path was clear and she nodded when he told them to get there as quickly as they could, knowing that he wouldn't need a verbal response. Sara climbed into the back of the truck when the last person climbed in and before they knew it they were pulling to a stop near where John had been stationed. Lana seemed to busy herself by looking through her pack now, as if she was looking for something that would finish off the mission. She did say that she planned on making this personal and Sara figured that this would certainly be her way of making it personal. She couldn't help but watch as she pulled out a flare gun and all of the dots connected in her mind, telling her exactly what Lana's plan was. It was something that she would have done herself if these people were as close to her as they seemed to be to Lana.
There was a minute or two of silence before Sara decided to call out. [b "We had better get a move on Lana. We don't know how close the dead are and I think most of us are spent of energy to fight again this evening."]
Damien slowly creeped the truck over fallen logs and rocks as he slowly made his way to more even ground. using a the mounted bull bar he drove over saplings and cleared his own path to the jeep they left at the insertion point. Michael looked at Damien and just laughed as though someone told a joke. when Damien prompted for an explanation Michael said, "you have no clue what kind of pissing match you just started." by that time a loud buzzing could be heard a mile in the distance. "XM134," was Michael's only response.
this unsettled Damien but at the same time he relished in the challenge of a fight. for now they would retreat and the survivors can spill more details and see what's what. when they reached the jeep Damien stopped and killed the engine. in five minutes they would be gone from the area in a hurry. grabbing the homemade SMG Damien stepped out and looked around before standing next to the bed of the truck. "whats next?"
"prepare for a fight," Michael commented. "that was just an outpost for a group thats been hitting military bases and police stations for weapons and ammo. most they have are humvees with mounted weapons. you guys caught them off guard and by now they've corralled anyone who wasn't fast enough to escape."
Calling it 'chaos' would be putting it nicely. All Hell was breaking loose with survivor on survivor mayhem. Bandits shot at the freed prisoners, and even each other when everything became too hectic. They forced each other in to close quarters, so at this point, especially since they probably weren't formally trained, friendly fire was inevitable. But that suited her just fine.
Lana puts a hole in another bandit, and a prisoner who was close-by quickly scoops up the fallen man's gun and begins contributing to the party. It was like a damn work of art when a plan like this worked out the way it did, but she wasn't about to pat herself on the back just yet, they still had to get out of here. However, it seemed Damien and his pals had already divined a means of escape that wasn't on foot, and she eagerly followed behind them, her charge slowing her down with his injured leg. But with very little resistance , they make it to a Chevy, Lana and Henry piling in the back with the giant.
[+red “The path is clear. You guys just get here as fast as you can.”] John responded to Sara's question over the radio. They went back for John as their group sat uncomfortably close to each other in the back of the truck. The second they pulled in and John began hopping in to the truck, Lana hopped out, quickly vaulting in to the bed of the truck with Damian's pack. She begins rummaging through her own pack, looking for the last piece of her mission; making it personal.
Samantha. Quiet and efficient. She didn't like to talk, but when you got her talking about something she liked, it'd be a miracle if she would ever stop. She was quick witted and had a keen eye for detail, and exceptional on supply runs.
Chris was a soft spoken young man who put himself before everyone else. He had a bit of a temper, but he often would just storm off to be with himself when he got mad enough. He had a penchant for stupid jokes, and him and Bran were attached at the hip.
Bran was like an older brother to Chris, but not nearly as soft spoken. His temperament was often obnoxious, but he was a hard worker and good with his hands. When they needed to 'renovate' the farm house, his hand was the first to rise to help. He was the one who taught Lana this valuable lesson she was about to teach the bandits: it didn't matter if someone scuffed your car, messed up your order, or told a little white lie. You were important, you had value, your time always costs money. Something against you, even just an inconvenience, was a slight, and you should always treat it as such or you'll get walked all over. No matter what, you [i make it fucking personal].
[b “That's probably why you were such a fucking hot head.”] Lana whispers to herself as she finally finds what she was looking for: a flare gun. Immediately, she aims it in to the air and fires it, the bright red ball glowing like a comet in the night sky. It went over the trees and then some, lingering in the air before descending slowly towards the ground. It would be seen by the living and the dead, but either way, this holiday resort the bandits called home would now be having an army of the undead descending upon it. Even if they got out, they just lost their home. And Lana would sleep like a baby tonight for it.
Sara took a step back from Lana as she pulled out her pistol to shoot at the lock. It was clear at that point that their presence would be known by now and their only task now was to get out of there alive. She did not hesitate to rush to the aid of those who were trying to make their way out of their make-shift prison. It was clear that their time here had not exactly been easy and many of them sported injuries or were malnourished which meant that they were slow to move at the very beginning but soon enough they were moving.
Lana did not need to say anything for them to know that they were needing to get out of there as soon as possible. The moment that they were out of there the bandits were attempting to stop them but along with Lana, she used her weapons to ensure that the bandits could not get close to them. Damien was already making his way a car with the people that he knew, and Sara was shooting at some of the bandits that had come from behind them while they kept moving forward.
[b “It’s not too far to the van from here. We just need to keep moving. John we are heading you way. Is our path clear out?”] She asked as she continued to run backwards as she aimed her gun at the head of another bandit, taking him out within a matter of seconds. The sound of a car engine caught her attention and when she was confident that there were no more people coming out of the building she turned her head and watched Damien pull off in the car.
A part of her wondered if Damien would be making his way back to the encampment or whether he would simply go back to him farm with his friend now that he got in there and got them out. In fairness, he did not know that they were going to be there, and he had made a deal with Lana and it didn’t seem like he would bail on that deal. Sara looked over to Lana to check her progress at the front and continued to move along with the group.
The world was always ugly. The zombie outbreak just made people show their true colors at first sight instead of months or years down the road. Now more than ever is the world a fight for survival. Any means necessary. You either do what you have to for yourself or for a few loved ones. Although the second one tends to get you killed sooner than later.
Mavis was with two groups. The first one was with people she loves and mixed with her people’s people. Then things got messy. Claims of stealing and he said, she said bullshit. The group split up after one loud argument and glass tossing got them mixed up with the undead and raiders. The second group was more like slavery. Not the best place to be but again the same shit happened. They had three leaders within the year she was there. The last one was greedy and had what was coming to him.
It made escaping and surviving easier with help. For once. The rocker blonde is known as Kittie. Abby is the one with the left full sleeve tattoo. J is the nut of the group, but he’s reliable. Then there’s little Gab. Couldn’t leave a child behind. They drove off in a Chevy Suburban 2006 with a few medical supplies, clothes, and whatever guns and ammo they could get their hands on. Mavis swears she’s somehow related to Kittie but it’s none of her business.
“Why do we only have oats and peanut butter?”
“There’s was a lot left in the storage. Beggars can’t be choosers.”
“This I feel like I’m being forced to do a Keto diet or a diet in general.”
[#af18ae Not everyone can suck a dick and have steak for breakfast. Suck it up buttercup.]
“Hey, I did what I have too. He offered you the job too.”
[#af18ae I’ll starve with everyone else. This is just the worlds latest way of the rich fucking over the poor.] Mavis says looking out the window.
The small group has been on their own for almost a month gathering things and ambushing low lives using Mavis and little Gab. You would think they would send little miss biker because of the clothes she wears, but somehow Mavis was the bait. With a machete in one hand and Gab’s hand in the other they walked along the streets. Everyone had a walkie. It’s radio silence unless someone is in danger. If someone approaches the two baits they need to squeeze the talk button three times, holding it for three seconds each time. Right now, they need to find a place to lay low. After the last ambush Kittie was shot on the leg. Secretly bitten on her shoulder. It wasn’t odd for her to put on a sweater, so no one is assuming anything.
Before it got dark Gab was back in the car. Abby taking the little’s girl place, ready and eagerly dying for some action. A few undead that was easy to take care of, gun free, wasn’t enough for Abby. That was until they heard some commotions. It would be nice of them to help, but there’s no way on telling if anyone of them are good. They hid and watched. Despite Abby being bending down she was jumpy. Mavis had to pull her down a few times to prevent this psycho from joining a fight that has nothing to do with them.
[center [https://i.pinimg.com/236x/f0/9c/1e/f09c1eb80aa0e81df459c9696450bc66--punk-girls-sexy-girls.jpg Kittie]][center [https://farm1.static.flickr.com/376/19698554101_9ce789b1bc_b.jpg Abby]][center [http://images.bestiariusz.pl/upload/img_1391532680_th.jpg J]][center [https://st-listas.20minutos.es/images/2014-03/378221/4367790_249px.jpg?1394346244 Lil Gab]][center [https://www.cstatic-images.com/car-pictures/xl/CAB60CHS102A0101.jpg&height=369&autotrim=1 The car]]
with everyone collected it was time to get the hell out of Dodge. drawing his shotgun from under his poncho Damien was the first out of the building and into the chaos. some of the bandits were trying to apprehend the escaping survivors while others were exchanging gunfire with the ones that were arming themselves with guns from the dead. heading wide to avoid conflict Damien led the party to the vehicles where Michael poited out his Chevy S10 4x4. Damien remembered it well, he helped pull the v6 and dropped a 350 small block v8 in its its place. the giant clambered in the back as Michael got in the passenger seat.
as Damien was about to get in the drivers seat he felt cold steel at the base of his skull. raising his hands in surrender Damien quickly turned using his forearm to divert the weapon as he positioned himself to grab his attackers wrist and bicep. delivering a kick to the groin and a hammer fist to the back of the head the man dropped to the ground in pain as Damien wrenched the gun from his hands and turned it on him. giving the trigger a squeeze a burst of bullets came flying out of the craft made bullet hose smg. tossing the weapon in the seat Damien climbed in and started the engine before speeding out of the hole in the wall and started to drive up the hill where Lana's other man was but more importantly his pack. getting out and tossing his things in the bed of the truck Damien looked at the man who stayed behind and said, "we're getting out of here, need a lift?"
The first thing she noticed was the smell. It was a raw and putrid stench, something she hadn't smelled since her time with the military. Living smells; it was an unmistakably human smell and it brought back some long forgotten and unpleasant memories. Lana just shakes her head at herself, bringing her back to the present as her and Damien move through the pool house.
Damien made quick work of the two bandits that were standing watch, and upon their deaths, she could see the other prisoners getting restless, hope shining through the muck and mire they were forced to wallow in. But Lana simply regarded them with a cold gaze, searching their faces for familiar ones. It seemed her companion was doing the same thing and had much more luck than she did. As she moved through the pool area, many of the prisoners bracing against the cages and begging for her to release them, one of the faces that comes through was one she recognized. [i Henry.]
She approaches the pen, and once she gets closer, he finally recognizes her. “Boss!” He says, moving to the front of the crowd, gripping the chain links of their prison. Despite only being here for two days, she could see the difference. He was paler, eyes sunken a little bit, and he had a slightly more faraway look in his eye. Not to mention the scratches, bruises, and gashes he no doubt received from the bandits. And even though he looked like shit, Lana couldn't help the corner of her mouth quirking up a bit.
[b “Kept you waiting, huh?”] She says and takes a step back, unholstering her pistol. She was soon joined by Sara who asked if her people were here. She hums and nods in response, pointing the gun at the lock and blasts it open. At this point there was no need to be quiet, the prisoners escaping would alert everyone anyways, and the bandits would be more interested in that.
Henry stumbles out of the pen, his would-be roommates all fleeing the second they could and funnelled out of the room. Lana takes one of his arms and motions for Sara to assist them until he got his bearings; one of his legs looked particularly beaten. “They killed Chris and Bran.” He told her and she frowned. “Samantha, they...”
Lana could divine what Samantha's fate was. [b “Its alright.”] Lana told him as they moved towards the exit. She could hear shouting and little snippets of gunfire coming from the outside. It looked like causing a little chaos did the trick; getting out of here with a gaggle of people would be easier now and they could start shooting too.
Placing her jacket on to Henry's shoulders she looks from Sara, Damien, and his two friends. It was time for them to leave and she nods her head at the door, leading them back out in to the night, chambering a round in to the first bandit that came their way.
Sara analysed the path towards the building to calculate how long it would take her to get there and knowing that it was clear made things a lot easier. She smiled and looked over towards John who was grinning. There was that gleam in his eye again that told her that there was still some humour in him even though the world around them was far from funny. Sara took one last look around before allowed her eyes to rest on John again.
[b “I have every confidence that you can handle the radio. Alright I will go in after them and support in any way I can.”] With that she took a step out and alerting Lana and Damien to the fact that she was about to make her way into the building so that they expected her and didn’t accidentally shoot her.
She silently made her way through the building trying to ignore the stench as she did but found it far too quiet. Perhaps Lana and Damien had taken everyone out or perhaps there were not as many people here as there expected but as she started to approach where Lana and Damien were she noticed two men creeping towards them where Damien stood with two men. She could only assume that they were people Damien knew. Sara allowed her rifle to fall to her side and she pulled out two knifes, one on each hand and started to pick up pace as she made her way towards them, hoping she could reach them before they reached Damien. Luckily she was small and swift and that meant that she had managed to make it without being detected.
As soon as she was near enough she she angled the knives in her hand and pushed them both into the skulls of both men at the same time. Sara had learnt to aim for the brain a long time ago. That way it meant the threat wouldn’t come back to bite you. Quite literally. She had to use all of her force to pull the knives back out but when she did the two men fell to the floor. She looked up and smiled towards Damien and looked around the room for Lana.
[b “Are your people here?”] She asked as she neared her.
When they had reached the building that housed the prisoners Damien readied his knife and ax before moving through the door. turns out it was an indoor pool complete with saunas and hot tubs. though it wasnt a luxurious sight considering the pool had been drained and chain link barriers stood in the bottom creating pens that housed the prisoners with enough room for a path to the shallow end where the built in steps were used to get in and out. Damien noticed old F.E.M.A. crates and put two and two together as to why the pool was like this. it was used as a quarantine zone untill someone took over the place. two guards lazily patrolled the pool, one of whom was standing infront of Damien with his back turned.
Taking the opportunity Damien sheathed his knife as he approached. wrapping his arm around the mans neck, Damien reared back and threw his ax at the man who bore witness to their presence. the ax planted itself into the chest of the unrestrained man as Damien started to make shushing sounds as the man in his grasp fought against Damiens arm to no avail. using his other hand Damien grabbed the back of the mans head, turning it to one side as he forced the man on his knees. the man now proceeded to beg and plead for his life only to be cut off in the middle of a sob as Damien pulled his arms away violently causing the mans head to rotate with a sharp crack before falling limp.
standing at the edge of the pool Damien spoke in a heavy accent, "Einnhverr kykr hugr?" [i any living spirits?] the question caused two men to stand up and move to the gate of their pen. one was the man Damien saw before while the other was hulking over the mans tiny figure. grabbing keys off one of the dead guards he dropped into the pool and unlocked the gates of the pens. as twenty or so people flooded out Damien was met with the two men both of whom hugged him in joy and disbelief. "Michael, Boris....you two look like shit..." Damien commented seeing how scrawny the two were. Boris had been a competitive weight lifter and usualy weighed the same as damien despite Boris being a literal giant standing seven feet and six inches as opposed to Damiens six foot two.
"you'd look like shit too if you didnt eat for a week. some of us belive they've been feeding us the people who drop dead on the chain gang, every now and then there's a horrible smell and that night we get fresh meat. the ones who've been here the longest have the shakes." the smallest of the three explained. they needed out of here now. this gave Damien chills knowing cannibalism was going on here. as they made their way to the exit and stood by it to wait for Lana. Damien handed the two men his ax and knife, he could handle himself in hand-to-hand and still had two firearms if he needed them.
She was just about to move to a new piece of cover when she heard her name. She turns to find Damien had decided to join her. It was hard not to feel a little delighted that he decided to join her in this this little side op of hers. Although, saying that, she didn't let it show that she was pleased. She just regards him with her cool gaze before looking back to the precariously placed crates and barrels a few meters away that she was going to move up to.
There were a few bandits lazily roaming the resort grounds, probably more as a formality than as actual guards. They had a variety of weapons at their disposal, but nothing the two couldn't handle if they kept quiet. And from what she could gleam from how they held their weapons and mannerisms, they were 'apocalyptically trained'; becoming familiar with weapons and tactics because it was necessary rather than receiving formal training. That would work to their advantage as well, they just would need to make all hell break loose.
As Damien pokes his head out, Lana leans forward to peak as well, again taking note of the locations of the bandits roaming the ground. If they were patient, they could probably make it to the building they were holding the prisoners, and with the darkness and rain, it would make it that much easier. But the light from the building would make it easier for them to be spotted. Obviously the front door wasn't an option, they'd have to look for a window or a side door, somewhere with less light.
[b “We go in and free everyone.”] Lana says and then looks back at Damien. [b “Then we make our exit in the chaos.”] And obviously the 'kill everyone who gets in our way' went without saying. The hard part was getting in without being seen, killing people and being loud was easy. But she assumed they could manage.
Lana picks up the gun from the bandit she killed, a police issued rifle, and straps it to herself. She then turns back, waits a moment and then quickly moves to the crates and barrels, getting closer to their destination.
John kept his mouth shut when Lana made the decision to go in. He should've known that was her plan all along; have him here as her eyes and these people as back up just in case. They were supposed to go in, look, and leave. Then they'd come back with more firepower or with something to negotiate with. It seemed like Lana was keen on making this personal. She had a strange philosophy about that, apparently even before the end of the world.
So when Damien had left as well, he looked to Sara, obviously as lost as she was. This was going to hell in a hand-basket. However, he quickly goes back to looking through his scope when Sara comments on something, turning just in time to see Lana kill one of the bandits. Goddammit. It was definitely personal.
[+red “Well, the best option for me at least would be to keep watch and keep everyone updated on enemy movements. What you do is your call, really.”] John says as he watches Lana and Damien move from two cars to a pile of boxes and barrels. He quickly takes his eye off the scope to survey the entirety of the grounds before sweeping with the scope again. [+red “You're clear to the building. Keep an eye on your three o'clock.”] He says in to the radio. He sees Lana nod, obviously getting in through her ear piece before moving further in towards the targeted building.
[+red “I would say go offer them support. There's no telling what shape our guys are in on the inside, so they might need all the help they can get.”] John tells her. [+red “Besides, I think I can handle talking over the radio myself.”] He grins.
The moment she heard Lana’s voice on the radio she looked from Damien to John. This was just supposed to be them staking out the place but apparently she had seen all she needed to change the focus of her mission. She guessed that she was warned though, Lana had said she would make this personal if the situation required it. She narrowed her eyes as Damien started to move in as well, obviously using the opportunity to go after whoever the man with the tattoo was.
Sara looked up at John with a questioning look. They had two options, they could go after them and offer them back up that way, or they could keep eyes on the outside for them so that they didn’t run into any trouble on this side of things but this was no her mission so it was not her responsibility to decide. She allowed her rifle to rest on her shoulder for a minute and turned to John who was her superior in this situation, or at least that is how she saw it.
[b “Your call boss, do we go after them or stay here and offer them cover on the outside?”] the rain was falling hard still and the two of them stood there drenched through in the darkness of the forest, offering very little protection from the downpour. However, Sara had always enjoyed the rain so she was not overly affected by the fact that they were exposed to the weather. Sara bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from looking at a soaked John for too long and pulled her gaze back towards the building that Lana had Damien were now moving towards, just in time to catch Lana’s sneak attack on one of their men. She nodded with an impresses laugh. [b “I shouldn’t be surprised really.”]
Damien breathed out slowly as he collected himself and kept observing the hotel. that is untill he noticed Lana moving in. "what happened to reconnaissance mission?" he grumbled to himself." after she dropped a man Damien knew he now had to act to get his buddy out. if not security will only double if he has to go in later. pulling the bayonet from his rifle he left it along with his pack, only taking his ax, bayonet, and the two firearms strapped to his legs. moving slow and crouched Damien moved closer to the compound anytime a flashlight would wander his way he would drop behind what cover was available. pressing to the wall he checked the chamber of his 1911 before reholstering it and moving in.
Damien aproached the vehicles cautiously to see Lana over a dead body. "Lana.." he whispered to let her know he was behind her. he didn't care to bite it like this guy. rolling the body of the man closer to a car he began stuffing it under to conceal their presence for the time being. "i told you, as long as i get to see some violence i'm in. don't expect me to stay up there while you get to have fun." he said as he poked his head up to look for any nearby threats. "this is your show, whats the plan?"
Lana sort of separated herself from the group for a bit as they observed the buildings. She eyed the property through her scope, taking note of the wall they had at the back portion of the property, and the guards posted. She had moved herself to higher ground, blending in with some trees and darkness as she scanned, the lights that were on made it a lot easier to spot things in the courtyard and get oriented. And that's when she saw what she was looking for.
A red truck. She recognized it as theirs from the license plate and some of the decals that people had spray painted on it. It was a stupid practice in her opinion, but it seemed to have come to some use now. It confirmed that these people were responsible for the missing convoy after all. So when Damien said there were prisoners coming out of the main building, she swung her 110 BA that way to have a look. She squints a little bit to see their features, but she doesn't recognize any of them, however, she does take note of the tattooed man, having similar ones to their Viking comrade. [i Interesting.] Lana follows them through the scope to the building they were apparently keeping prisoners... But why would they keep prisoners? That just meant extra mouths to feed... Unless...
She goes back to viewing the stone wall, going up and down its length to find a way in. And it looked like the wall ended in the South West quadrant of the property, cut off short by the dense trees. Unless they wanted to climb the wall or go in through the front, it looked like that was their ticket in to this place.
[b “Target confirmed.”] She spoke quietly in to the radio. [b “South West, moving in.”] Lana swings the rifle on to her back, and begins moving, keeping herself low and fluid as she makes her way to the wall. This was part of the operation she had said she would do herself, the part where there was no obligation for them to stay, well, except for John. He knew to provide her with eyes on the outside in case she had company.
When Lana made it to the wall, she stopped for a second, trying to listen for movement on the wall and looking to see if she had been noticed. When she was sure she wasn't, she moves passed the wall and hides between two vehicles that seemed to have been placed there for her convenience. She takes another second to survey her surroundings again, taking note of the guards looking outside of the resort over the walls, and the spotty patrols in the courtyard. One particular bandit was close-by, and inconveniently in her way to the next bit of cover she wanted to advance to. He seemed fixed, so instead of waiting for him to move on, she makes a quiet yet indiscriminate noise. Was it a cat? A mouse? Undead? Well, she guessed he was going to find out because he began to walk curiously over.
When he got close enough, she sprung at him, one hand over his mouth, the other jerking his arm and guiding him and at the same time keeping his hand from touching the trigger on his rifle. At the same time, she swept his leg, using his own body weight to drive him to the ground between the cars with her. Knee in the ribs, hand over mouth, she quickly pulls her knife from her side and slams it in to his neck, killing the bandit before he even knew what happened. She lingers there for a moment, listening for any signs for alarm, and when there wasn't any, she prepares to move on.
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The walk down towards the town was serene and tranquil. Up in the mountains it was often like this with the far off sounds of those down in Whitefish the only notion that life still progressed. Without that it was simply silent. The path he had chosen was natural, wide and unobstructed. All around were pines and firs, thick tall trees that would weather this human made storm without a scratch. Birds fluttered from branch to branch and any woodland critter scattered the moment he came into sight. Humans were more dangerous than before and the wildlife knew to keep their distance.
It was a bitter day on the mountainside, cold gusts blowing up from down south. Pulling his thick coat in tighter around himself to try and beat out the worst of the cold he left his pistols free and easy to access. A trained eye caught the darkness building off in the distance and he jogged across to a lone boulder to gain a better view. Thick black clouds were rolling from the Flathead Lake and would take Columbia Falls before heading onto the border. Such storms were quite common and on any other day just a nuisance. But the rainfall they brought was always unknown. Sometimes it was a sprinkling of a few minutes, a quick wash and it was gone. Others it could rain for hours and the worst ones lasted a day or two continually. As such he was concerned about his home. If the water pooled on the roof or worse yet found its way inside, he could lose not just his warmth but his home, his defence. He would need a covering large enough to spread over the roof.
The time needed to head out and get back home had been shortened drastically as he judged it was a good four or five hours away at best. In his mind he judged the town to be too far. Quickly he made a decision to divert his path instead toward a neighbourhood up on the mountainside. The town was more for food and supply runs anyway, both of which he had good stock of. With the threat of the undead in town he would rather hit one or two homes up in the rolling hills. He had one house in mind anyway from his last trip out that way. Despite the cold gusts from the forefront of the storm, he made decent time, getting down in an hour and a half over some rough terrain.
The neighbourhood in question was remote off a long and winding mountain road and nestled deep amongst the forest. They were holiday homes but for the semi-rich; those who could not afford a place on Whitefish Lake but wanted a mountain retreat like Aspen. Large, spacious, quite comfortable for a family of ten though most were abandoned ten months of the year. They were set back from the single road in and out and though the grass was overgrown and the street covered in a layer of dead leaves, there were no corpses, car wrecks or demolished building to signify the worlds end. It was peaceful.
This was one of several dotted across the side of Big Mountain. These places were great for cherry picking miscellaneous items like clothing, bedding, tools and the like. Most had a can or two of food too, but it was rare. As he walked down the road it could be noted several houses sported black markings beside the door. They were put on by Thomas and had certain meanings. One line meant a sweep through had been made, less than an hour and very quick for what could be seen. Two lines and he had made a thorough check of drawers and cupboards – this could take an additional hour to two hours. Two lines and a star and he had placed items near to the entrance, this way if he was coming back empty from other homes he could stop to collect them and the journey would not be wasted. This consisted of extra clothes, another pair of boots, items for construction and cooking and so on. Finally if there was a circle around all of this then the house was empty and held no further interest.
This simple system was vital in saving time from searching houses he may not go near again for several weeks. It was a good means of him not wasting his energy too and allowed him to bypass multiple houses before coming upon one he had been leaving for a little while.
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This one was boarded up by the owners and quite ripe for the picking that day. The boards were not concerning to him as it was not uncommon for owners to do this. If they only came up the mountain once or twice a year then the boarded windows and doorways gave them an extra sense of security against burglars as well as unfortunate weather related damage. Quite sensible. The last thing you wanted on your first day up to your holiday home was dealing with a broken window, a ransacked house and a pile of fresh snow in your reception room.
However for Thomas, it meant safety in another reason. It meant no-one was inside. That meant no undead, no living, no wild or feral animals either. After a quick walk around the perimeter, something he did before any incursion into any property, he found no boards loose and none had been tampered with and replaced either. Back at the entrance he dropped down his bag and retrieved the crowbar. Taking a moment to look around the street for any surprise undead or watching living, he jammed it between the doorway and the board and began prying it away. The nails were a touch rusted, the wood a little soggy and rotten in places, meaning the board came off in pieces than one solid piece. It was a shame as it would have been very useful if he could have taken it.
With the board pried away he repeated action of leverage on the door itself, fitting the crowbar down close to the lock. With several strong pulls of the metal bar he snapped the locking mechanism, the door groaning as it swung inward and a dusty hallway became illuminated for the first time in a long while.
Retrieving a flashlight from his bag he kept the crowbar in his left hand, ready to swing at anything that may have hidden itself inside. Although he was quite sure of his safety it never hurt to remain vigilant. Moving through the house on his initial check of each room took him almost thirty minutes alone. In this world it was better to waste a day checking one house and coming back empty handed, than to rush through, get bitten or cut and die of the resulting infection. The margin of error was just so slim. With this slow approach he finished clearing the house and got to searching. Unfortunately with the heavy storm and likely torrential rainfall to come he would not be able to be thorough. He needed to get back and prepare his house but he couldn’t do that unless he found a big enough tarpaulin.
His search was quite fruitful in the end. He found a lot of spare parts such as batteries, matches and candles, a few boxes of nails along with a pristine toolset that would replace his makeshift odds and ends that he had gathered over the months as and when he needed another tool. But most importantly in his swift search he found a picture of a boat. This was quite significant as it was not of one on the water or floating at dock, but rather of an older man cleaning the boat on land, a soft cloth in hand and wide grin on his face. If he cleaned the boat so thoroughly and carefully then it stood to reason that the man would keep the boat covered. And there just happened to be a very large metallic shed in the back at the end of the driveway, large enough for say, a boat?
With his fast search over he headed back outside, making sure to take the can of spray from his bag and draw a solid line beside the door. He did his best to shut and tether the entrance shut, as if it was undone and open when he returned he would know something or someone had entered. It seemed a lot of Thomas’ life now revolved around precaution and planning for the future.
Moving around to side of the house he walked down the weed ridden driveway and toward the garage, leaning up to try looking through the dirty covered window on the garage door. Rubbing his sleeve on the dirty glass to brush away some of the grime, he again peered in and indeed there was a boat with a very large black cover over it. He repeated his actions from the house here; scout the perimeter for break in’s, use the crowbar to bust the door open, make a quick inspection of the building, though he was done in five or so minutes. Being a part workshop there were many items he would like to have back in his home and once he retrieved the desired covering from the impressive craft, along with a few lengths of rope to tie it down, he marked the garage door accordingly for his next trip back in the future.
By this time it was an hour or so past midday and he still had the walk back, uphill and with more weight on him than he had coming down. Eyeing the storm once more he could only be thankful he would reach home before the rain began. God help anyone out by Columbia Falls, no doubt it would last a long time up that way. A thought as to what was occurring in that direction was on his mind for a moment. Sometimes he found himself in wonder at how others were getting on in the world. He would think over just how close he had been to other survivors without either knowing of the other. Hopefully they kept away if they knew where he was. Turning away with his new haul packed away in his bag he made his way back for his house in silence, not a word uttered all day – again.
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