Realistic or Modern 𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗦𝗧 𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 — at the end of the world

[Miaow]

SCENE ONE
Northview​

The snarls of the infected echoed down the vent as Minnie curled up in the corner, taking a deep breath, trying her hardest not to think too much. It wasn't like she had much else to do. She was stuck in there for as long as that thing was blocking the vent. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears, trying to block out the thunderous noise of the infected storming the school. She couldn't panic. She had to stay calm.

Then, she felt fur brush past her hand. She opened her eyes and was faced with Momo as he squeezed his way between her legs and her abdomen. She hesitantly pulled her hands from her ears, gently petting his forehead. She'd almost forgotten he was in the vent with her... He twitched, his ears flat against his body, staring warily at the infected a metre or so away from them. Minnie tucked him closer to her chest.
"I'm sorry, Momo..." She murmured, her voice hushed, "I should've left you outside... You'd be better off without me."
She took a breath. She couldn't help but imagine Momo's grand escape if she'd just left him be... He could've found a gap in the fence and fled into the forest, returning to his feral bunny roots... but instead, he was stuck in a vent. She pet his ears in a feeble attempt to make up for her decision.

She looked up at the infected, meeting their milky gaze as they continued to scratch at the vent, squirming to try and free themselves. She knew she was going to have to kill it... but it was a tight squeeze, even for her. She straightened her legs, gently nudging Momo further down the vent.
"Stay away from it," She whispered, giving him one last encouraging nudge as he hopped to relative safety.

She adjusted her grip on her scissors, rolling onto her stomach and cautiously crawling towards the infected. At the realization their dinner was coming closer, they began to squirm more violently, adgitated at her slow pace. With one arm pinned by their side, their other hand swung violently in her direction. She reached forward, trying her best to keep her distance. Xander's jacket was thick, her arms were nicely protected, but her face and neck were vulnerable... though as she strained, she realized their arms were much longer than hers. She used her free arm to try and pin theirs against the wall of the vent, swinging with her scissors. She grazed their nose, struggling to reach.

She took a breath and edged her way closer, using her one shoe as leverage as her sock simply slid against the smooth surface of the vent. She held her breath, taking another swing. The blades struck the skull of the infected but only grazed the skin, leaving them almost completely unscathed. As she slammed the blade into it's head once more, her other arm slipped, freeing the infected from her grasp. It grabbed for her hair, slashing her across the face with it's gnarled fingernails. She shrieked, squeezing one eye shut as it bled. She tried to scramble backwards to regroup but couldn't find anything to grip, the fabric of her trousers and jacket slipping on the metal beneath her. The infected pulled her arm out from beneath her, causing her torso to slam against the ground as they pulled her hand up to their mouth, their maw wide open, saliva dripping from their teeth. Her breathing was frantic, slamming her palm into the ground and pushing herself backwards... but their grip was stronger than she could have ever anticipated. Blood dripped from her face, only enhancing their appetite even more. She yelped, their cold breath brushing against the back of her hand.

This was it. After all she'd been through, she was going to die in a vent.

Safton Aegis Bullyboy Squad
​

 

[Bullyboy Squad]

​

The voices he didn't know called his name. Harry's unfocused gaze shifted between the immaculate face of the young woman beside him and the blood-stained, black man that stood beside an unconscious kid.

The more lucid Harry was the more he understood what happened. He was in a hospital. There had to be an accident... His wife's twisted expression scarred with dread punctured through the haze and he violently moved untrained muscles as the woman pulled the tube out of his airways.

His body jolted with a wild cough and his ragged voice, chipped around the edges, flew unrestrained. "My wife- Where is my wife?!" His limbs, spiked up with adrenaline, aided him to sit up. "Where is she?! I want to talk to my wife!" His words jagged and disfigured by wavering tone, once deep then higher as his throat quickly re-learned how to produce sound again.

Harry's chest heaved and his gaze swung to the door when another figure entered the medical space. At first he didn't understand what he was seeing. Was it another patient that was in the accident? His eyes bulged when he recognized the missing part of the shirt and …missing ribs. "Holy Christ, what!!"

The zombie whipped its head around towards the sound. Its white eyes zeroed in on the pretty lady beside Harry.

MokaChan Togy Safton

BeyondDandy NanLia Miaow @SlaughterMelon Crono Aegis ​

 

[Miaow]

SCENE ONE
Northview High
​

Haewon clenched and unclenched her fists by her side, her eyes glazed over as she stared at that one shoe. She couldn't be dead. They'd fallen asleep next to each other just the night before. Now, she was awake, and Minnie was gone. She swallowed. There had to be something she could do, that she could've done, to stop this. She should've held her tight when they slept, blocked their door... if she'd just woken up. God, if she'd just woken up when Minnie got out of bed. She'd gone soft. She'd never slept through anything when the two were alone. This place, this fucking school, had made her soft. She should've just left when Minnie was all healed up, once her knee was better and they could walk. They would go back to how they'd always been, traveling, and never staying in one spot for too long. What the fuck was wrong with her? They should've left when they had the chance.

Then, Xander stepped in front of her, blocking her view. She wanted to hit him. He was the reason they stayed. He made Minnie like him, like Nari, so they couldn't leave anymore. This was his fault. He didn't know what they'd been through, he hadn't experienced it, how dare he pretend he cared?! Only they could know how it felt. How could he care when he didn't even know?

She swallowed as he began to speak. There were so many things she wanted to say, she wanted to argue as hard as she could. How could he know?! What was the point of saving this fucking place if her sister was gone? But... it felt hopeless. What was the use? She blinked the tears from her eyes. She couldn't let herself cry in front of this man, no matter the circumstances. She looked away until she regained her composure, before giving him a stern look in the eye, grabbing hold of his shirt.
"Only if you fucking promise me you'll find her." She demanded with anger in her voice.

Once she was content with his answer, not that she was sure she could be content with any answer Xander gave her short of summoning Minnie out of thin air, she began down the corridor. She took off at a jog through the school halls, fast enough to get where she needed, but paced enough that she wouldn't run out of wind before she got there. It wasn't long before she was at the front entrance to the school, bursting through the door.

For a moment, she froze. It was a blood bath out there... Hundreds of downed infected and a few downed Samaritans, too. She suddenly felt exposed. Sure, she could take down a couple infected at once, but this was far more than a couple. Even without the bullets flying in all directions, she was filled with a sense of impending doom. Her chest felt tight. Surely... there was no way they were getting out of this alive, let alone unscathed.

She snapped herself out of it, the cold, night air finally hitting her.
"CABRERA!" She yelled through the gunfire, trying to take in her surroundings.
As she scanned the outside of the building, he caught her eye, leaning against the wall as he tightened a tourniquet around his leg... On a normal day, this would have filled her with a sort of sadistic pleasure. This man was an ass, invading their home under the guise of "saving" them, but only bringing them pain and suffering. Maybe this was karmic justice... but he was still the man in charge, leg or no leg.

Safton Aegis Bullyboy Squad Crono
​

 

[NanLia]

On the Road...
​

Dutchess scoffed as Weston returned and ordered her out of the driver's seat, she wasn’t surprised by the move - she’d ordered the bossman around and it was expected but she wasn’t going to move without making noise about it. She shifted the truck back into park before climbing over the console back into the passenger's seat.

To make matters all the worse, Wesley clearly seemed to think he had some authority to give her a glare for her insubordination. She wouldn’t forget it and she’d give him shit later and may him pay his dues for it.

“What the hell is a white knight?”

Dutchess knew, without a doubt that this question was uttered by Weston without the intent of receiving an answer but she certainly wasn’t about to let him walk. “It’s an idiot with a dick who thinks he is everyone’s saviour but ends up getting more people killed if he’d just kept to himself.”

If there was a reprisal for it, she’d play the part and act stupid; men didn’t think women were nearly as smart as they were, and blonde women were the least intelligent of all women; something she knew how to wield when necessary. Some part of her felt like she wasn't returning to the prison, at least not the same person who had left. For a long while Dutchess had intended on leaving, simply slipping away while scavenging and letting them believe she was dead. Wes had delayed that, unexpectedly, something she would have to remedy, hopefully in a good way.

Safton Namazu Aegis Togy joshiebee ​

 

[Bullyboy Squad]

NORTHVIEW​

Warm and slick in his fingers, his blood sipped into the growing stain on his pant leg. A harsh whimper ripped off his throat when he tightened the tourniquet. The pain was blinding every coherent thought but he fought through it.

He swung his wild gaze around them. Eyes wet from pain and adrenaline. The world he knew… it was crumbling. The place he turned into a safe and prosperous haven. The dream he had. Gone. Everything he had left. Gone.

His men were fighting with blades and spikes now. Not because he told them to, but because most were out of bullets. Some Samaritans stewn the ground. Bloody. Agonizing. Some rose, undead, to attack their comrades. He watched it, feeling paralyzed.

Cabrera snapped out of it all when he heard his name. He pushed himself off the wall, snapping his vision to the familiar voice. Heawon. He dropped into a stance on pure instinct. Muscle memory taking over when he unslung his rifle and took aim at the girl in one smooth motion. A little to the right. Trigger finger curled and the round pierced past her. It drove through the rotten head and grazed another. His heart rate spiked up at the sight. More monsters. Coming from the opposite side from behind her. It couldn't be. The fence was secure all around the back! Fuck!

With spit on his lip, he hollered to the girl. "GET INSIDE!"

The grinding sound of metal against metal snatched his attention and he looked back to the gate. The ocean of undead was pushing at the car with oncoming tides. Slowly moving the front of the vehicle that whined as the crashed hood got dragged against the busted gate. Until there'd be a clearing to pour through again.

Both sides. Too many. They…they didn't stand a chance. They never did.

With his breath squeezed out of his chest, Cabrera shouted so loud it stripped his throat raw. "FALL BACK! EVERYBODY!" His tone baring dread but coated in determination. "GET INSIDE AND SECURE THE BUILDING! INSIDE! NOW!" Moving to the main entrance he stopped there with his wounded leg trembling and his weapon up. To cover his men while they drew back.

The walkie talkie by his belt crackled with a broken noise "....Cabrera, do you copy......What's your status….." He couldn't hear it. Locked in his tunnel vision he shot one biter after another.

Maybe he couldn't save the place.

Maybe backup wouldn't arrive in time.

Maybe they were all dead already.

But he wouldn't stop shooting until he clicked empty.

MokaChan Togy Safton

BeyondDandy NanLia Miaow @SlaughterMelon Crono Aegis
Namazu ​

 

[smookie]

The ashen heavens brightened with the golden strokes of dawn. Hints of orange brushed the edges of the dispersing clouds. Light trickled to the dark lay of land. To the dirt. Painted with death, grime, and fresh blood. Carpeted with corpses.

But there was no stillness to the image in front of them. The remaining mass of undead surged towards the compound. Lured. Hungry. Fucking disgusting. Their silhouettes contrasted harshly with the delicate hues of the awakening sky as they poured through the breached defences. Forcing survivors to dart and weave like panicked rats. Running for what looked like an entrance to a school building.

The back of the premises were covered in makeshift gardens, pens, and utility spaces. The front was filled with scattered armored vehicles. Everything surrounded by reinforced fences. No use now, with the broken-open gate and the crowds of monsters already enveloping the parking lot and spilling into the farmland from the back.

It was too early for the birds and insects so it felt like the world held its breath. Silently watching.

Just like they did.

They sat on their rumbling machines, parked in a loose formation on a hill near the edge of town. Their engines softly grumbling in the quiet morning air.

Jenkins shuddered at the idea of being among those men and women in the courtyard down below. Scrambling towards the building that would become their concrete coffin. But where else could they go, other than towards the greedy embrace of the rotters.

"You wanted to see, Fishy?" He threw his hand forth. "There." He turned his helmet-clad head to glance at the temporary leader of their little band. "You wanted to see where those noxious twats were going and now you did. So let's get the hell out of here."

Elvis knew that wasn't why they were really there. Sure that's what they originally agreed on. The moment they saw the horde followed that fucking noise across the bridge.

Not like it was their fault.

It wasn't their problem.

But of course Fish & Co. decided to look for an alternative route to get to the other side of the river and "investigate". To see where that strange drone was leading the rotters. To check on that stupid community they didn't know and shouldn't even care about!

Guess, after Beau managed to catch the VP on the radio and they got a green light from Casey to ride there and rendezvous with his group at the spot, it was a done deal.

But hey, here they were. Tracking the undead crowd to what looked like a damn High School. Right. There was a logo too. Jenkins narrowed his eyes as the first sun rays reached through the gloom of the small hours, illuminating the washed blue letters. Northview.

He huffed. His breath of frustration mingling with the crisp morning air. But deep down? He knew this was never just about checking the place out. What the hell happened with their club... Since the world ended it's like sniffing damsel in distress was instantly overriding the bikers' common sense. And Jenkins knew in a world gone to hell? Heroes were those who wound up dead first.

Fuck it. He was no hero.

Elvis grabbed the goggles from the front of his helmet and set them back over his eyes. "Let's go, people."

MokaChan Togy Safton BeyondDandy NanLia Miaow @SlaughterMelon Crono Aegis Namazu Good_Morels Fluffy-Kat Tool ​

 

[joshiebee]

On the Road​

Thankfully the man seemed to relent, letting her join them in exchange for her information and her machete. Although it made her a bit anxious to pass off her only weapon she didn't really hesitate, handing it over to him as they moved towards the vehicle. She was instructed to get into the back while also getting a warning about if she was lying to them. He seemed pretty pressed for time with making decisions - especially as she now noticed the vehicle was actually slowly moving, so Elizabeth just nodded to him as she made her way to the backside of the vehicle.

As it stopped moving she grabbed hold of the side, climbing up into the back of the vehicle. Her eyes immediately fell upon another individual - a man, who looked relatively young - and she began to grow nervous again. Perhaps she wasn't the first person they'd picked up. Perhaps this man was a prisoner, and they were transporting them to their doom. Or, perhaps, they'd merely run out of space and this man was just put in the back, like her. Things were quickly getting more complicated. She had little time to worry about it all, though, as she soon found another man throwing a slightly damp, dirty cloth to her. She merely took it, nodding, then braced herself in the back of the vehicle for it to take off.

Whatever these people did, she hoped it was quick, and she hoped it was smart. Getting away from the flames and the undead had to be their first priority; she saw no other way to the situation. But what happened after that was entirely up in the air. And while she wanted to talk to the man in the back of the truck with her, to get to know someone in this group, she kept quiet. Instead, she covered her mouth and nose with the rag tied around her neck and merely looked over at the other man. He didn't look too dangerous, but you really never knew these days.

NanLia Namazu Aegis Togy Bullyboy Squad Safton BeyondDandy ​

 

[Namazu]

NORTHVIEW - INFIRMARY
​

Pop….. Pop….. pop….

Denise’s hands shook. They never shook before this. Ammo was limited, and she needed to make every shot count. Up on the rooftop of Northview, she was careful with her shots and her aim - trying to limit her shots only when it was needed to save the living from a jam. It was getting harder and harder to do that. The dead were countless, and the living too few in number. She watched helplessly as several Samaritans were overwhelmed and surrounded by the gnashing dead, dragged down to the ground by teeth and boney fingers, screaming the whole way to the mud until they went silent. It was the most chilling, terrifying thing she’d ever seen. It made her stomach flip until she had to step away from the edge of the roof before she got dizzy. Even up here, she could smell them. Rot and waste and decay.

And the growls. Oh God, the growls. It was inhuman. No wonder her hands shook. They might never stop shaking now.

Click… click…

“Fuck!” Denise cursed, checking her handgun. Out of ammo. She slammed the clip back in and shoved the weapon back into its holster at her side. Whatever was in that was the last she had, and now she was spent. There wasn’t any reason for her to stay up on this rooftop any longer. She’d done as Cabrera asked, for as long as she could, and now she had no choice but to head back down and inside the school.

Timely, then, was the sound of someone yelling to fall back and get inside. Was that Cabrera? One of the enforcers? It was hard to tell, over the din of the dead.

Running for the door that leads to the stairwell back into the school, Denise paused for a moment to grab a large metal pipe. It had a knotted end where it bent slightly and was probably intended to connect to another pipe, which made for a good spot to grip. It was longer than the knife she had on her, and would probably be more helpful if she needed to get up close and personal. Judging by how things looked on the ground… it would probably be necessary. That also meant she, too, might wind up dragged to the mud, screaming like the rest of them.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Denise plowed through the service door and stumbled into the middle of a hallway. Looking both directions, she saw nobody - but also no shambling dead. It would have been a good sign had she not seen what was happening outside. She needed to find where the others were, and figure out what the plan was.

Hopefully there was a plan, anyway.

Rounding a corner, Denise momentarily couldn’t believe what she saw: a lone corpse, staggering its way into one of the rooms, with a second corpse a few steps behind it. The office where they had set up a makeshift medical ward, no less. The last thing they needed right now was to lose people who knew how to treat wounds. Clutching her pipe, Denise sprinted towards the open door.

“Holy Christ, what!!”

Denise didn’t know if anyone was in here or not until she heard a man call out, but she was not about to let some face-biters wander in and catch someone important unawares. Before either of the undead had a chance to react to the sound or smell of her behind it, Denise lifted the metal pipe and bashed it down upon the rotting skull of the second undead. The skull caved in, almost comically, and it slumped to the floor.

Good thing Denise was not standing directly in the doorway, either, as at the same moment a gunshot rang out, and the first undead dropped unceremoniously to the floor in a heap. She flinched at the noise.

"Don't shoot! I'm not one of the dead things!" It was probably better than saying don't shoot, I'm from the Prison. Depending on what these folks thought, that might get her shot anyway. Carefully peeking around the corner to make sure it was safe and panting, Denise stared wide-eyed at Mackenzie, Pandora, and the man in the bed. She hadn’t paid much attention to any of them the whole time she was here, sticking mostly with her Samaritan crew and trying to stay out of the way of the Northview folks. She knew they weren’t liked. No sense in making this harder.

“Is everyone okay?”

Bullyboy Squad BeyondDandy NanLia Miaow MokaChan Togy Safton Crono Aegis ​

 

[Togy]

NORTHVIEW​

Mackenzie hummed in satisfaction at the child's response, ceasing the movements. "Good. It's supposed to-"

He stopped speaking momentarily, flinching slightly at Harry's sudden outburst. Well, temporary memory loss was expected after waking up from a coma. Hopefully he'd come to his senses sooner or later, but Mack wasn't really optimistic enough to think that would happen anytime soon. He'd let Pandora handle him for the time being, he still had to see if the kid was coherent and to make sure he didn't fall back unconscious. Wait, Harry's screams had shifted towards a tone of terror-

"Oh," Mackenzie said blandly, finally taking notice of the undead sack of flesh trudging towards Pandora. "Oh, shit-Alright, everyone cover your ears." Without another word, Mack unholstered his Beretta, leveled it towards the zombie's head, and with a crack painted bits of skull, blood, and brain matter across the wall behind it. Keeping his pistol aimed towards the infirmary doors, he left Tanner's bedside and inspected the hallway outside. Catching sight of denise and Kurt outside, he ducked back inside the room.

It was messy, but there wasn't really an alternative. He wasn't sure if the undead's presence meant the horde had finally breached their outer line of defense or what, but all he knew was the four of them weren't going anywhere anytime soon with the states Harry and Tanner were in.

"Pandora, calm him down. We need him ready to move if more show up, I'll handle the kid" Mack ordered, returning to the child's bedside.

"Alright, we're rushing the treatment plan, kid. Can you walk?" he asked Tanner.

Aegis Miaow Bullyboy Squad ​

 

[BeyondDandy]

On The Road

A half hour ago, Casey and his group (group one) ditched a sea of walkers at a construction site to save their club from devastation. They successfully completed their part of the mission and Casey managed to reopen momentary communications with Fish - who had led his own group in the opposite direction. At no fault of their own, group two and three failed to stop the dead from crossing the bridge. Hank’s plan - despite the club’s attempts to deviate from it - came to fruition and would soon lead to the destruction of the poor community of Northview. Casey instructed Fish and the others to reach the high school and advice, but he had not heard from them since the fires began; so his group prepared to reunite with them.

—-

A heatwave blew past Casey as he, Madison and Wess rode through the engulfing cloud of embers. With every mile, they dug themselves deeper into havoc - crossing walkers engulfed in flames and spreading fires around them. Visibility was dim and the smoke made it difficult to breathe, but Madison’s tail light was their northern star. She guided them towards the rest of their club members who should have reached Northview at this point - but nothing was certain.

Casey jumped on the comms, “Bridge should be a few miles out, almost there. Stay alert!” The warning came with a sharp left turn into a gravel intersection that would lead them to an intact bridge. Crossing it would open a straightaway to the school and hopefully to the rest of their club. The sudden turn however also came with unexpected guests. Casey was fortunate enough to avoid truck headlights that breached through the smoke. A loud crash echoed over the crackling flames behind him and Casey lost control of his motorcycle. His back tire slid right when he turned left and the entire machine tilted onto the ground. Casey crashed shoulder first, arms coming up to protect his head from impact. His body tumbled and rolled down the road until the momentum stopped him in his tracks.

He grunted in pain from the collision, laying on his back as he felt winded from the impact. He looked down at his body, noticing his bike on its side - forks bent and handlebars destroyed. “Shit,” he cursed as the back of his head lay back on the ground. With a deep breath, Casey rolled over to his hands and knees and forced himself off the ground, back to his feet. He limped as he looked over his figure - incident cutting through his clothes and leaving behind bloody road rash and irking knee pain. He glanced over his shoulder at the thudding engine of his comrade Madison. “You okay?!” He called out to confirm, noticing she appeared whole and unscathed from the incident.

Rubbing his eyes, he squinted back down from which they came. He ran a full inspection of the scene, not seeing Wess anywhere in sight. Twin headlights gleamed through the smoke a few meters away, but remained still in the middle of the road. Casey grabbed his walkie, surprised it still functioned and called out to Wess. Radio silence, no response from him. He drew his gun from the inside pocket of his kutte and slowly started to approach the vehicle ahead, signaling Madison to stay back. Casey walked the side of the road near the trees, trying to stay as hidden as he could. The closer he got, the clearer the scene was becoming. He stopped in his trail when he noticed multiple figures within the vehicle and other headlights approaching the scene. “Fuck!”

He backpedaled towards Madison quickly, gun fixed on the vehicles approaching. “Get to the others, I’ll look for Wess,” he whispered with haste. He knew she would have a hard time with the game time decision so repeated his command. “Go now and get some help! Tell Ally we need a medic!” She had to understand there was nothing she could do at this point but get more help. Casey then shuffled into the forest, trying to stay away from the flames if he could but trying to stay hidden as he began his approach towards the scene once more. He pulled up his shirt, trying to stop inhaling smoke. Getting close enough again, he noticed the front tires of the truck were completely shredded and the windshield shattered. Then there it was, Wess’ bike lay in shambles under the truck - completely destroyed.

“Where are you Wess?” ​

Namazu
Tool
NanLia
Aegis
Safton
joshiebee
Fluffy-Kat

 

[Namazu]

ON THE HILL
Within a safe distance from Northview...​

Fish dragged a weathered hand slowly down his face, over his nose, mouth, and short beard. Rolling thin shoulders underneath his leather jacket, he idly adjusted the patched denim vest that hung over it. The patch stitched onto the denim was the same patch that most of them in the group wore. Only a few hadn’t earned their patch yet - but maybe, after this, that’ll be enough. Shifting his tall boots against the ground, he adjusted himself on the seat of his rumbling motorcycle. He’d been riding this thing all night. His ass was numb, he was sore and stiff, and he was getting tired. Right now, he felt too old for this shit.

“Well, shit.” Fish responded to Jenkins in a quiet voice, exhaling as he tucked some stray hair behind his ear that had come loose from the neon-green hair tie that held his long hair back. He probably looked like a very unassuming middle-aged man compared to the rest of these much tougher looking bikers. A hippy in their midst. Yet, everyone looked to him as the leader-in-charge right now.

“Hold up, Jenkins. That’s a damn school. What is that, high school, you think? Middle school? Shit.” He rubbed his hands together, flexing his fingers, and wiggled his toes in his boots to keep the blood flowing to stiffening extremities.

“What if they got kids in there?” Fish slid his hands along the bars of his bike, tapping his thumbs against the leather grips. He was trying real hard to convince himself to turn around and head back. To write this off as a lost cause and forget about it. It’d be far safer for them if they just left now and let God handle the rest. There probably weren’t kids there anyway. Kids don’t usually make it this far.

It wasn’t working.

It made him think of Cris’ little girl, back at the clubhouse.

Fish pulled the radio off his bike and brought it to his lips, pressing the button.

“Casey, that horde’s hit a school.” He let go of the button, waiting for a response. Direction. Opinion. Anything. He got nothing but silence and static.

“Casey, come in. We’re in sight of that community on the other side of the river. They’re gettin’ their ass handed to them. They’re not gonna last the day at this rate.” Again, nothing but silence followed. Fish sighed and hung the radio back in place.

“The drone obviously doesn’t belong to them, and it obviously doesn’t belong to us. So who the fuck does it belong to? Someone’s screwing with all of us.” Fish lifted one foot off the ground and settled it back on his bike as he looked around to the others gathered. He looked to Auguste first - the older man usually had some kind of wisdom to share here… and hadn’t they both commented about how they could, and should, do better earlier that day? Now was a chance to do better, if they really meant it.

Fish saw a mix of doubt, fear, disgust, and trepidation around him. Jenkins wasn’t the only one there that looked ready to fuck off into the wind and pretend this place didn’t exist. A place they could scribble off the map later when they were someplace safer.

“We do this the Fallen Angels way: we take a vote. If you’re in favor of trying to help them, raise your hand. If you’re in favor of leaving them to their fate and staying out of it, keep quiet.” Fish cleared his throat, took a breath, and raised his hand.

He looked expectantly around at the others, waiting.

smookie NanLia Fluffy-Kat Tool Bullyboy Squad Safton Crono Miaow MokaChan Togy Aegis Good_Morels joshiebee ​

 

[Namazu]

ON THE ROAD
The Convoy​

Weston scoffed at Dutchess’ answer as to what “white knight” meant. She wasn’t wrong, at this point.

“I’m not trying to be everyone’s savior.” Just one or two people’s savior at least, because he needed to make it up to the world. He owed them that much. Not that he could say it. He was not admitting that shit out loud, not to these people. Never to these people.

~*~

Weston lost track of how long they were on the road. It seemed like forever and a day. It was still dark when they left Lincoln, and now Weston had completely lost his sense of time given all the smoke around them. Elizabeth’s detour was panning out so far, but what they hadn’t anticipated was that the wind would change directions and blow smoke this way. They also hadn’t anticipated that the dead, on fire and yet still moving, would travel and help spread the fire - adding further to the concealing smoke. Sure, the road was more or less navigable, but the tinder-dry woods around them were going up in flames almost as fast as they could drive. The further into the smoky hell they went, the more they had to slow down. They couldn’t afford to lead-foot it the whole way to Northview.

Everything happened very, very quickly. One moment, Weston was studying the map, following the route with his thumb, trying to think of third- and fourth- alternate routes in case this one didn’t work. The next, he’s being yanked against the restraint of his seatbelt as one solid object collides with another, smaller, solid object. The sound of cracking glass and grinding metal filled his ears in a cacophony of reckless destruction for a brief moment, and then it stopped - leaving nothing more but a brief echo against the trees, muffled by the crackle of fire.

It was enough to make Weston’s neck hurt, and he’d probably have a bruise on his chest from the seat belt, but it could have been a lot worse. Cussing, he eyed each of the other occupants in the vehicle as he scrambled for the radio.

“Stop! We hit something. Stay ready.” He already heard the other trucks in the convoy slamming their breaks. He braced himself, holding his breath to see if anything hit them. He felt nothing else, and didn’t hear any more telltale sounds of metal against metal. Good thing the other drivers listened to him and left distance.

“Fuck. Gunderson.” It dawned on him that the pilot was in the back of the truck, without seat or seatbelt, and any such accident like this posed a significant risk to maintaining his status of being alive. Not that Weston gave a shit how comfortable the guy was - but King gave his orders. Keep the pilot in one piece, or it was Weston’s head.

Scrambling to yank off his seatbelt - leaving LT, Dutchess, and Connor the soldier to deal with themselves - Weston pulled a wadded up gray shemagh from the storage compartment in the door. He shook it out once, wrapped it around his nose and mouth, grabbed his rifle, and climbed out of the truck. He closed the truck door behind him, but more quietly this time.

Raising his rifle, Weston did a quick visual sweep of the area, looking for movement. He saw nothing yet. He scooted sideways, keeping his back to the truck and moving towards the truck bed, peeking around the corner.

“Gunderson?” He looked for the woman as well, but didn’t have a name to put to a face yet - and besides, the pilot was worth more.

Weston swore he heard something in the woods that grabbed his attention away, and it wasn’t a snap-crackle-pop of fire either. Whirling forwards towards the forest again, rifle still ready, he scanned the treeline. Nothing yet. He didn’t dare say anything yet, but instead kept his back to the truck as he crab-walked along it towards the front of the vehicle. Letting out an annoyed sound as he spotted the front tires - shredded to bits, down to the rim in some spots - he suddenly froze. Something shiny and metal glinted beneath the truck. Definitely not part of the truck either.

Keeping his rifle carefully in hand. Weston crouched down to take a better look, reaching down to grab hold of it and drag it closer. It was a side mirror, the sort you’d find on a motorcycle. It was broken clean off, crushed and bent, with the mirror shattered. Getting down on one knee and leaning closer to the ground, Weston saw what looked like part of a badly bent set of handlebars.

“Oh fuck-” Weston inhaled quick and pushed himself up, dropping the mirror. It was enough to make him cough briefly against the quick intake of smoky air. He could tell immediately that there was a mangled mess of a bike under their truck, and he was not willing to keep looking until he found a mangled mess of a person under there too.

Now, generally, Weston was not squeamish. He’d killed people before. Shot them, strung them up and hung them, stabbed them, hell he’d even beat and strangled someone with his bare hands before. But one thing he’d never done was turn a fellow motorcyclist into roadkill on accident. Sure, he might not have been driving, but he’d take responsibility anyway if that was what happened. He just… didn’t want to look at it. At whatever was left. And on that note, he didn’t want to inspect what broke the windshield either, in case the answer to 'what broke it' was to be ‘somebody’s head’.

The sinking feeling he felt in his stomach didn’t stop him from keeping his rifle ready as he scooted back towards the driver’s door of his truck. Remaining quiet, he tapped twice on the door before popping it open. He kept his eyes on the treeline as he leaned over to say something quietly to those inside.

“We hit someone on a motorcycle. The bike’s under the truck, and our front tires are a wreck. We’re going to have to climb into the other trucks to keep going. I didn’t see a body, but it… might be under us. We’ll just have to let ‘em turn. Hopefully we can come back to tow this later, once the fire’s cleared. We’ll deal w-”

“Where are you Wess?”

Weston stopped, hearing an unfamiliar voice far too close to him for comfort. It didn’t come from the tree line either. It came from… under the truck? Why was someone asking for LT? It wasn’t their radio either. Weston glanced up at LT, eyebrow raised, then quickly crouched down. He felt around a bit under the vehicle, keeping his eyes up and alert around him, until his hand closed around it and he could climb back up to his feet.

A radio. A goddamn radio. Smaller than the kind they had in the convoy, a different brand. It was set to an entirely different bandwidth than the one they used, too. It wasn’t visibly broken, so he decided to take a gamble. Backing up towards the back passenger door again, Weston quickly climbed back into the truck. Still paranoid of the idea of shots coming from the treeline from an invisible army he wouldn’t be able to see, Weston slouched down low and tried to hide himself behind the minimal coverage the truck door and frame provided.

The radio crackled to life again. This time, the message wasn’t as clear - whoever it was, must have been further away. It was a different voice too.

“-ey...come in… sight of that… river… gettin’ their ass handed…. Not gonna last the day at this…”

He didn’t recognize the voice. It couldn’t be a Samaritan, they never used this channel before. He didn’t know if Northview ever did, though, but he wasn’t aware of anyone there having a bike. Was that Northview the voice was talking about? The thought entered his mind that whoever it was, was responsible somehow for the horde being there. The very idea made his blood boil, but he tried to stamp that down and away. Hordes just happen. They move on their own. It doesn’t mean anyone did it on purpose… hopefully.

Pressing down the button, Weston held the newfound radio up and spoke.

“Friend or foe?”

smookie NanLia Fluffy-Kat Tool Bullyboy Squad Safton Crono Miaow MokaChan Togy Aegis Good_Morels joshiebee ​

 

[Tool]

On the Hill
Overlooking Northview​

Madison 'Connor' Jones led the Fallen Angel trio, consisting of herself, the VP Casey, and Wess, into what felt like hell. Their portion of dead had been left far behind them, and the plan was (apparently) to rejoin the other two Fallen Angel groups. It had been so needlessly, pointlessly dangerous, leading the swarm past their headquarters instead of from whence they'd come, but the milk had been spilled and the girl could only hope the damage would be minimal. Madison was aware of the hypothetical plan to lead the dead away from the other community, though not of any details beyond a vague, nebulous 'away'.

Heat and falling ash and embers swelled as a forest fire churned through its fuel, and though the gently falling grey powder made visibility less than ideal, Madison pressed on, making sure never to get too far ahead, but when the dusty asphalt came to a Y-shaped juncture, the lack of visibility meant she missed the headlights on their way towards the same, merged road. The sound of grinding metal and hard thud nearly made her lose control of her own ride, but she spun about and appeared ready to dismount and approach the asshole veep, a crashed pickup (followed by many other pickups) and...... where was the third bike?

Well, fuckles.

Casey's words filtered through Madison's mind, and...... gloriosky, it seemed he'd found that other stray braincell, and was now rubbing the two together. Get help, tell Ally we need a medic, he'd look for Wess, that was downright reasonable thinking.

What was the world coming to?

After giving the VP a nod that meant she'd do as he'd asked (for once), Madison whirled around and headed towards the rest of their number.

It wasn't a long ride, exactly, but it was long enough to gather her thoughts before coming upon a hill, populated by Fallen Angels. When she arrived, they appeared to be watching the compound below, just in time for the first peeks of sunshine to present the carnage in stark color. Based on the panic of the people currently under attack, Madison recognized the look of a community on the brink. She took off her helmet briefly, the chestnut of her hair soaked with sweat, but she needed to make sure she was understood over the screams of the doomed. Her words were directed at Fish who.....for whatever reason, had his hand up in a friendly hello.

"Casey and Wess got into a crash with a pickup-truck train, back that-a-way. Casey's bike is toast, and both Wess and his bike might be paste. Casey said to find you so you can radio for help, tell Ally they need a medic. I got no radio, or I'd already have given you a ring. Four or five trucks, total, heading this way. Don't know if they're all drivable at this point."

She gestured at the.... christ.... high school, a fucking high school..... Madison gestured at the high school with her helmet.

"I'm goin' down there. Whatever damage taking the dead past the clubhouse is done, now. That was hours ago. I'm no medic, so I'm no good with whatever hurt Casey and Wess are suffering. Casey was up and walkin', gun out and looking for Wess under a truck chassis."

Madison put her helmet back on and gave this small group of folk a small, genuine smile. Most of them she'd encountered hadn't been all that bad, the president and his right-hand-guy notwithstanding.

"Save who you can. Avenge who you can't. Good luck, boyo."

Unless anything too grand happened, Madison fully intended to ride down and into the fray.

Namazu Fluffy-Kat Good_Morels NanLia smookie​

 

[Fluffy-Kat]

At first there was nothing. No sight. No sounds. No crackle or snaps of the raging fire that swallowed God's green earth, or what was left of it. No thoughts. No movement. Just an empty void. Dark and devoid of response to any external stimulation.

Then came a twitch of a finger, a reaction to neurons slowly coming to and reigniting their rapid fire, followed by a deep, piercing pain that throbbed slowly. Creeping with every pulse from the back-base of the skull, along the sides and to the front, just behind the eyes. Then, a sound. Soft and rhythmic, a white noise that sounded a lot like wind. Breathing, maybe. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

Big inhale-- ouch.

There was a pain there.

Try again, inhale -- OUCH!

Ringing. Whats that ringing? Its growing louder. It hurts the head even more. Not just ringing, theres something else, something beyond it.

"Where are you Wess?"

The voice pierced through and caused the fallen cowboy to stirr back into consciousness. It sounded to be a little ways away, but at full volume it reached him nonetheless. His eyes weakly fluttered open on their own time, revealing a double, blurry vision as he tried to focus on a few blades of grass pressed up against his face. No matter how many times he blinked, the fuzzy vision wouldn't clear. A concussion, no doubt. Ugh, and the incessant ringing. The ringing in his ears muffled everything around him, even his own voice as he let out a deep, guttural groan. Wess slid his hand up by his face, gliding along the grassy surface that broke his fall rather roughtly, and pressed it into the ground in an attempt to lift himself. His other arm, however, screamed in pain when he tried to make even the slightest movement. It felt heavy, impossible to move. Wess had to move and gave his one good arm the responsibility of flipping his body from being on his stomach, to his back.

Deep breath.

One...two...three

Crack. Pop.

Mason bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from screaming. At least his other arm had movement now. The loss of movement followed by the distinct feeling of a joint slipping back in place, albeit accidentally, suggested his right shoulder had been slightly dislocated. His short, staccato breaths brought a whole different pain. He could only assume that a rib or two was broken, judging by the sharp jab he would feel any time his lungs expanded with an inhale. Great.

Wess turned his head slowly to the left, allowing himself to catch his breath and let the pain cool down by keeping still. There was a caravan of trucks along the road some 20 feet away from him, but they were hard to make out beyond a veil of smoke, only noticing their silhouette and headlights. He flexed his right hand opened and closed, it was in working order now, thankfully, but his shoulder still hurt like a bitch and it would for a while. There was no time to fuss over it, however, he had to get to his walkie. Planting his hands at his sides he pushed on his elbows to prop himself up to a seated position, the pressure pushing his shoulder made him gasp, and in turn amplified the pain of his one (or two) broken rib. He puffed out a few short breaths like a woman with labor pains, before ever so slowly managing to get himself on his feet. The ringing in his ears had dimmed, but the blood rush of coming to a stand combined with a concussion made him stagger backwards a few steps, and quite frankly almost made him black out. He put a hand to his forehead in hopes of steadying himself enough to see straight.

Eyeing the caravans, Wess' main objective was to seek help and if memory served him right, those trucks werent there when he was riding through just moments ago. Speaking of memory, what did he remember? Connor, Casey, and himself where trying to haul ass back to the rest of the MC through the blaze when suddenly......there was no memory beyond that. Like a projected movie runing out of film, there was just nothingness. All he could recall was just a big, heavy object that hit him like....well, like a truck.

Wait a damn minute.

Wess glared back up at the Caravan. Is that why they're stopped? Either way now was not the time to point fingers, he needed to call in help with his walkie...like...yesterday. The battered cowboy took one step, and limped with the next. When he looked down, he found a decent sized piece of shrapnel had made itself at home lodged into the outer part of his left thigh, "F-fuck..." he whispered, fighting through shock made his teeth involuntarily chatter and his words stutter. This situation was just unraveling nicely. A (previously) dislocated shoulder, a concussion, a broken rib (or two, who knows), an out-of-order leg, and a busted, bleeding lower lip (thats so far escaped his knowledge) that will probably need to be sutured. Gee, its a wonder how hes even alive. Wess winced, groaned, and wimpered as he hobbled his way to the truck at the front of the line. He threw himself onto the passenger door with a loud thud, and slid down to sit catch his breath, with his back against the truck. He reached one hand up and to the side, blindly searching for the door handle.

"Friend or foe?" Wess heard a voice from inside the truck speak into the walkie.

"That," he swallowed down the dryness in his throat, "That ain't yours...you son of a bitch," his words trailed off as each one was painful to wheeze out. His hand finally hit it's mark. Bingo. With mustered effort and an audible grunt he pulled the door open, lifting himself up onto his feet in the process. When he finally managed to pry the heavy door open his eyes landed directly on the walkie in the hands of someone he did not recognize, "Hand it over," he commanded between breaths, his arm and hand outstretched waiting for the stranger's compliance with his only life line.

What little patience was left was spent trying to drag himself to where he was now. Wess was a man raised on manners and Southern hospitality, but at this moment, all that was crushed to smithereens... along with his bike. He wanted his walkie, and he wanted it now. He had no intention of begging the man that almost killed him.




BeyondDandy
Tool
Namazu
NanLia
smookie
Good_Morels

 

[Bullyboy Squad]

NORTHVIEW
Infirmary​

Harry's pulse jump started when the strange woman swung a metal pipe at one of the lacerated men - his body jerked aside with a prominent hollow in the skull. The patient's body jolted with a violent tremor as a bullet went through the head of another one, leaving Harry's hearing fuzzy and his mind reeling.

He watched the corpses on the filthy floor before his gaze shifted to the medic that took the shot. Then back to the woman in the entrance.

His wild heartbeat drummed audibly through the machine patched to his chest. Until he started ripping the wires off. "Get the fuck away from me!" He warned with a rasp dried voice, attempting to get to the edge of the bed and to his feet. But his knees gave as soon as he pushed his famished frame off the mattress and he hit the ground with a pained grunt.

MokaChan Togy Safton

BeyondDandy NanLia Miaow @SlaughterMelon Crono Aegis ​

 

[NanLia]

NORTHVIEW
Overlooking the High School​

Auguste stared down at the carnage below them, unable to reconcile what, exactly he was seeing. It looked like a fucking living sea of dead, a wave of reaching hands and gnawing maws of a rising tide threatening to submerge the building it surrounded. He’d never witnessed anything like this before. Hordes, they’d seen. But this was Chaos on Fire.

Despite the overpowering noise and stench of the dead, he could still hear people screaming, shouting for help. The white flashes of muzzle fire in the windows and on the roof of the building. How the fuck anyone was still alive was beyond him. They had some sort of divine protection, some god keeping them from death.

“This isn’t a fucking democracy, Fish.” He growled, turning back to the others on the hill at his side. Connor’s new information changed their plans, they couldn’t risk their VP getting caught out. “Kit, haul ass to the VP, call Ally to meet you, she’s carrying the resupplies.”

“Connor, Kallie and Jenkins, get down there and make some noise; try and get as many as those fucks to follow you, away from the school. Fish and I will follow and do the same. We’ll circle back as five and work our way in.”

Tool Namazu smookie Bullyboy Squad Good_Morels Fluffy-Kat ​

 

[Crono]

Northview - Infirmary
​

Kurt had watched Haewon panic and Xander go to her. The hallways was as secure as it was going to get so he'd left, Pandora was still waiting for someone to return to help her and he'd already been detoured long enough. The man jogged down the hallway of the school at an even pace, keeping his wits about him. Just as the Infirmary came into view, he saw a figure ahead bashing at what one would presume was one of the undead, at the same time as hearing a gunshot and seeing the flash from the room. His heart sank in a moment of thinking he was too late. "Fuck." He muttered, throwing caution to the wind and pushing his legs back to a full burst run.

Kurt slowed to a stop just before the room, cautiously moving around Denise to peer into the room. "Everyone alright?" He asked, his eyes glancing from Mackenzie, to the kid beside him, to Pandora, then to the movement on the floor. If Kurt hadn't already been so on edge already he might have been more startled by the sight physically. Instead he stared in disbelief a moment at Harry crumpled on the floor. "He's awake!?" Kurt said in shock, more on the speechless side. If there was a less convenient timing for it to happen than this night he couldn't think of it. Or was it more convenient? Kurt couldn't decide and didn't have the attention span to focus on that for the moment. There was a mixture of emotion at seeing Harry awake but the priority of surviving was overriding them. "We need to get this show moving to the gymnasium before more of them find their way in." He told them urgently, glancing back out into the hallway, unsure where the undead drifted in from. His mind wandering back to the cut chain at the back door, what if it wasn't the only one?
​

Miaow Bullyboy Squad Safton Aegis Togy Namazu​

​

 

[Good_Morels]

NORTHVIEW - outskirts​

On The Hill

Kit felt distant as he watched the carnage, a part of him going back long before the apocalypse when the flames of hell scorched his skin as he tried in vain to suture shut craters in men that would never see their families again. He was pulled from his thoughts by the gentle nudging of the exhausted Southerner to his right. Beau looked about as hollow as the corpses, it gave Kit a nasty sort of feeling in his gut. His dead gray eyes stared ahead as he spoke, his voice like a distant thunderstorm.
“Can I bum a cig off you? I don’t care what’s in it.”
Kit nodded, not that he had anything to ease the nerves on him at the moment anyways. He passed one to Beau before lighting one for himself, the sting of smoke in his lungs helping to ground him back to the present. He scoffed at Jenkin’s words. “Just like you to want to run, you ever stand up for anything other than your own ass?” he grumbled barely audibly. As Fish continued, he watched Beau raise his hand without so much as a moment of consideration, the same amount of time as it took him to raise his own. It caught him off guard, but Beau's tired baritone twang was even more surprising.

"I'll be honest with ya Fish, I'm goin' anyway. I'm tired of this pack mentality we're usin' to justify doin' dirty things, I don't like you, Jenkins, An I don't much care what happens to me at this point. I'm a-ok dyin' for this random ass settlement, maybe it'll be enough for them not to blame the rest of us fer the horde."

The rumble of another motorcycle interrupted Kit before he could cheer on the old southerner, stealing his attention immediately. He listened closely to Connor's words and stamped out his cigarette.
"Fuck, a pick up truck?" He asked, his stomach sinking. There was only so much he could do for splat, God forbid they needed surgery, trying to get them home before they bled out would be hell. He started backing up before August told him to, but kept his temper in check. It wasn't his fault he was so pissy, and they were agreeing anyways.

As he turned his bike around he glanced at Fish for a long moment, and nodded to Beau and Auguste, purposefully excluding Jenkins. "Keep me posted, don't get shot." He pleaded before turning and riding towards the direction Connor came from.

On The Road

The smokey haze of the crash site was far from ideal as Kit rolled to a stop, too worried about running one of his own over to ride. He parked off to the side instead and grabbed his first aid kit from his saddlebag. If anything, the smoke at least gave him some cover as he approached the vague silhouettes of the crash.

"Wes? Casey?" He cupped one hand around his mouth and called out. "I'm here for medical assistance- Don't move, I'll come to you!" He yelled, feeling his voice grow hoarse from the effort. He didn't mention Ally's oncoming arrival just yet, it was too risky. He flinched as he felt glass crack under his boot. "Wes? I'm here, it's alright" he said a little gentler, silently begging for a response.

[/B]

MokaChan Togy Safton BeyondDandy NanLia Miaow @SlaughterMelon Crono Aegis Namazu Good_Morels Fluffy-Kat Tool ​

 

[Safton]

​

On the Road to Northview...
The Convoy​

Wesley blinked rapidly, glancing around through the dirty, cracked windshield in confusion. He sat there, his neck stiff and heart pounding as the first pinpricks of pain began to creep up through his body from the whiplash... though he knew from experience that it would be worse later, once the adrenaline faded. He had been driving along, alert -- or at least he thought he'd been alert as Weston fed him directions. Eyes scanning. Doing his job.

Then a blur of motion, the growling of engines, the flash of metal. Impact.

Wes couldn't help but think of the deer. They had been a constant presence in rural Ohio growing up and you practically couldn't avoid crossing paths with them, especially in the fall. He remembered when his stepfather had finally given him free reign to drive the truck back when he was in high school. He'd been so happy, so proud of himself. So glad to get out of that house... until he plowed into a doe crossing the road late one evening. He remembered the guys on the football team really letting him have it when they saw the state of the truck the next morning: busted windshield, bumper torn off. Bits of fur and blood still there if one looked close enough. He smiled and bore it all in good fun.

He didn't tell them about the beating he had received when he got home that night and his stepfather had seen the state of his beloved truck. Didn't let his friends see the bruises... all in places that Dear Old Dad knew would be hidden underneath his clothes.

Wes was shaken from his reverie as the others began to stir around him inside the vehicle. He spared a pained glance at the rear view mirror to make sure Dutchess was moving and then the Boss Man was at his door, speaking to him. Emmett blinked rapidly, focusing on the man and forcing himself to listen, to understand to what he was being told. He'd probably just turned some unlucky prick on a motorcycle into roadkill. Didn't that beat all? Sometimes it felt like they were the only ones left in the world and yet out here -- driving around in the smoke and the shit -- he was un-fucking-lucky enough to crash into someone riding a goddamn motorcycle of all things.

A fucking car accident. Here. Now. It almost made him feel normal again. Like the world hadn't gone to shit. He would have laughed at the absurdity of it all if he thought it wouldn't make the pain of the whiplash flare up again... and also make Weston assume he'd gone insane.

That's when the radio crackled to life. Emmett narrowed his eyes, knowing immediately that it didn't belong to him... or apparently Weston. He didn't recognize the voice as one of "his guys", either. Weston answered the transmission, but neither man got the satisfaction of a reply before there was a thudding against the truck's passenger side door. Wesley was certain it was a walker -- it had to be -- and was already reaching for the sidearm strapped to his leg when suddenly the door was yanked open.

Biters didn't do that.

The enforcer froze, staring into the face of a man who looked like he'd been sent through a meat grinder and yet had inexplicably lived to tell the tale... for now, anyway. The guy was clearly in a bad way. No points for guessing just who this was... although his conscience wasn't exactly soothed with the knowledge that he hadn't committed vehicular homicide, assuming that was even a thing anymore.

"That ain't yours...you son of a bitch. Hand it over."

Wesley's entire body tensed as soon as the stranger spoke, much less reached inside the truck. He reacted on instinct, finishing what he had started moments later as he drew his weapon -- but didn't point it. Yet.

"Hold it, motherfucker. You stay right where you are or I'll finish what the truck started," he growled, his tone low. "Now, just how many people do you have with you?" he demanded, locking eyes with the stranger, his finger resting on the pistol's slide -- just outside the trigger guard.

NanLia Namazu Aegis Togy joshiebee Bullyboy Squad Fluffy-Kat BeyondDandy Good_Morels​

 

[NanLia]

On the Road...
​

Dutchess groaned as the seat belt tightened suddenly and she was propelled forward in her seat, the strap preventing her from exiting through the windshield but certainly leaving a line of searing pain over her right shoulder, between her breasts and over her left hip.


She gasped for breath, the wind knocked out of her as she scrambled to unbuckle herself and breath deeply again. She wanted to sass the bossman for the very obvious statement, no shit they'd hit something! But for the moment it was beyond her capabilities.


She glanced into the back seat as Weston exited the vehicle, again, alone without backup exactly like the idiot she was firmly beginning to believe he was when something - or someone slammed into her door. At first she thought the dead had found them but within moments her door was pried open and a bloody man was reaching in past her.


Words were lost to her in the seconds that passed then. She knew he had spoken, the dead didn't talk! And that other voices filled the cabin of the truck but she didn't think, only reacted on instinct. She tucked her knees to her chest as she swiveled in her seat, twisting to brace her lower back against the center console and kicked out, planting both feet into the center of her attacker's chest.


She propelled the man backwards into the night, watched as he stumbled back several feet before falling back onto the ground.


Sound started to become clear again and Dutchess heard the rumble of an engine, not of a truck from their convoy but a motorcycle. "Fuck!" She hissed, reaching behind her back for her pistol, bringing it around to aim at the prone figure.

Safton Namazu Aegis Togy joshiebee @Fluffy-Kat BeyondDandy Good_Morels ​

 

[Bullyboy Squad]

NORTHVIEW
Hiding with civilians in the sports hall...
​

In the stuffy space, the air clung to Jose like a damp shirt, as he huddled with the others. His pulse raced ahead of reason, breaths coming in quick bursts, forecasting another freak-out. How did they end up in that nightmare?! Would it be any better if Harry was still the leader instead of Font? Christ, where did that thought come from?? Seriously, why couldn't he just switch channels! But no, he had to wrestle with existential questions even now! Shhh. Focus. Just breathe. It's like counting sheep, but… with oxygen molecules. One in, two out... Yeah, that's it…. Relax… His inner voice cooed, though he could've sworn it was more sarcastic than soothing.

A scream tore through the air outside and Jose jumped in his place, his whole body ricocheting from the wall he was leaning to. Jesus Christ, he could rival a cat meme for nervous twitchiness right now. The screams were drowned out by the gunshots again and trying to focus on something else than his impending heart attack, Jose looked at the pool of faces surrounding him.

The young teenagers around him were a mix of barely suppressed panic and tears. Their eyes wide with fear, figures flinching at every sudden sound. He knew he should do something, as their goddamn teacher, comfort and reassure. Right, that's grand. Help the kids calm down while he was shaking like a chihuahua during a hurricane. He couldn't harness the tremble in his voice, choosing his words.

"Hey, uh…. It's going to be alright." His murmur too quiet for some of those further away from him to hear. The man awkwardly patted one girl's shoulder. "They can't get to us here." The distant sounds of mayhem filtered through the gym windows, making his stomach churn.

One of the younger boys spoke, his tone quivering. "D-do you think Tanner made it, sir?"

Tanner? Who the hell was Tanner. Jose barely remembered the faces of the children that were recently transported into Northview. He could probably identify them by their sneakers better than their names.

"Yes. Absolutely. Tanner made it." He lied and mentally paused. But made it where?? They were all supposed to gather in the sports hall. Where else would the Tanner kid go??

And then came another scream, closer this time, making his heart sink. This one wasn't from the outside, it echoed within the walls of the building. The crowd in the gymnasium wavered and gasped as someone shouted from the hallways.

"They're inside!!!"

Inside, he was screaming louder than any of them. But for now, all he could do was hold onto a thread of hope that the doors would hold, even if it was as fragile as his own courage. Wait… someone yelled from outside of the gym, which meant…

The banging accelerated his heartbeat.

"Let us in! Please!! We're not bit!!! Let us in!!"

Oh god. It wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening.

MokaChan Togy Safton BeyondDandy NanLia Miaow @SlaughterMelon Crono Aegis Namazu ​

 

[Namazu]

NORTHVIEW
On the Hill​

Hearing an approaching bike, Fish was momentarily relieved - the others had made it to their meeting point. This would go better if they had a few more in their numbers. That was until he looked over his shoulder and squinted into the distance. He only heard one bike. He should be hearing more.

The frown on his face as Madison approached was not because it was her - he actually didn’t mind her any, unlike Casey apparently - but because of the fact it was only her. The woman had his question answered before it even left his lips.

It was bad enough to hear of the crash - they couldn’t afford to badly damage or lose bikes and injuries were dangerous - but the thought of losing another one of their own? And Wess, of all people. He deserved better than to be paste, as Madison so aptly put it. A lot better.

Fish’s stomach flipped at the news, and he felt ringing in his ears. To the others gathered, he’d look like he had just gone pale and distant for a bit there. Distant was right - for a moment, his mind was someplace far away: cold, hard asphalt. Snow melting into his clothes. Flashing emergency lights bouncing off shiny surfaces. Wherever Fish was, it wasn’t here and now.

Snapping out of it quickly, Fish blinked the moment away and took in a deep breath, nodding at Madison.

“Alright, thanks. I’ll radio Ally… fuckin’ hell, a bunch of trucks?” Fish was intently not thinking about the image of Wess under a truck chassis, though he did cast Kallie a glance, to see how she was holding it together. He expected ’poorly’ would be the most logical answer, regardless of how tough-as-nails Kallie always was.

As much as the thought of losing one of their own stung, they couldn’t stop or give up now. Once Auguste started in on how this ’isn’t a fucking democracy’, Fish was damn near a second away from giving the man a verbal dressing-down laden with ’fuck you’s until he realize Auguste agreed with his desire to help the school. So much so that fuck the vote, they were doing it. Appreciated, though he was trying to steer things away from Hank’s iron fist dictator style and back to their roots. This was at one point a democracy, after all. But that was neither here nor there, right now.

Fish didn’t need to be told twice to get down there and stir shit up. They’d spent all night herding the dead around. They could spare a few more hours. Hopefully.

Beau’s unwavering support for joining in to help and comment about pack mentality made him feel a bit better - though he’d likely need to circle back with him on that comment about not caring what happens to himself. It was problematic. More so than not liking Jenkins - that was something the two would eventually have to work out on their own, and Beau probably wasn’t the only one.

As the group positioned themselves to split up once again, Fish looked over to Kit and caught that look, holding Kit’s gaze. He offered the medic a small, halfhearted smile - it was the best he could offer under the circumstances. It looked like there were things he wanted to say, but opted to leave half of it out, even in the face of either of them possibly dying before the end of the day.

“You too. Be safe, okay man?” Fish looked away, grabbing the radio off his bike. Time to focus on business again. He fiddled with it and clicked it on.

“Ally? Do you copy? Casey, Wess, and the new gal ran into a problem. A bunch of trucks on the road, there was an accident. New gal’s okay, Casey’s bike is wrecked but he’s alive. Wess might not be so lucky. Kit’s gonna go meet them to help. We made it to that community across the river… ain’t lookin’ good. It’s a school. Totally surrounded by the horde. There are people inside, still trying to fight ‘em off - we can see the muzzle flashes from here. We’re gonna go try and help peel some layers of shit off it. I’ll understand if you want to go to Casey’s location instead of ours, but we can always use the help.” Fish clicked off his radio. No matter how much their group might need the extra hands and her skills, he couldn’t rightfully tell her to not go to her possibly injured husband right now. It wouldn’t be right.

Fish revved up his bike and got ready to take off, when he had an idea. He glanced down at the radio on his bike - not the one they used to communicate between each other, but the one for music. He popped open a small compartment, confirming there was still a cassette tape inside. Yes, it was dated, but it still worked. That’s what mattered. He checked the label on the cassette. This'll do just fine as long as he turns the volume up.

“How does everyone feel about literally making some noise to pull them away?” Fish grinned at the others, a mischievous idea forming in his head. They were already going to be competing with the sounds of gunshots and screaming, and the scent of fresh blood. They needed a bigger distraction than just their engines.

Giving his bike another rev-up, Fish backed up and motioned for Auguste to follow. He took off down the gentle slope side of the hill, taking it carefully down until the ground flattened out more. Soon he was zooming off towards the school with the hopes that at least Auguste was close behind.

Save who you can. Avenge who you can’t. It was probably the best advice and direction he’d heard in a long time. Fish couldn’t shake the fear there were kids in there, and that was exactly what he was going to do. Save the ones in there, and avenge the ones he couldn’t.

One hand on the bars, Fish reached for his radio with the other hand and pressed a button, turning on the music. He cranked it up so it could be heard even above the roar of engines, then reached for the handgun at his side. Cat Stevens' Peace Train started playing.

'Eat this peace train' Fish thought to himself as he took a shot at a rotter, hitting it squarely in the forehead as he rode past.

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[Aegis]

On the road...​

'If you wear a seatbelt in the humvee, you're a bitch.'



In this exact moment, Connor couldn't recall exactly who had given him that nugget of advice back in his army days, but now he was cursing them for instilling such a bad habit in him. It was such an unexpected thing-- to hit something that hard, in this day and age. Maybe if they were fleeing or being reckless, but they were more or less bumbling through the smoke. Such a speed would likely only jostle the car; this force had been entirely something else. Regardless, Connor smashed forward against the headrest of the passengers seat ahead of him with breakneck force-- almost literally. He felt his upper back pop and his neck distended with such space that he was certain that when he crashed into the seat it would be the very last thing he ever saw. Connor's jaw smashed through the cushion and into the underlying frame of the seat-- his teeth catching the inside of his cheek with a sudden flush of copper and the undeniable sundering of his own flesh between enamel.



The Soldier's mind flashed black and then exploded with sparkles like a fourth of July fireworks display, but he quickly snapped back to in the moment. His nose dripped with a steady trickle of blood, fingers twitching with the sudden return to consciousness, yet it could've been so much worse than just a blink of black.



People were talking now in the cab. Somebody got not.



Connor blinked hard a few times to clear his mind and suddenly he was back in it. The Soldier slumped forward into the floor and scooped his pistol out from under the seat in front of him-- contorting his body sideways in an effort to squeeze his arm up underneath it. It had flown free from his grasp during the crash; a holster could've easily prevented such a thing, but the event merely reminded him of his unprepared, underequipped condition like a conscript being sent to die. Fetching his firearm, he sat up-- inducing a sudden rush in his head, before slumping against the door in a nauseous, tense haze.



The door popped open and Westom got inside conversing with some unfamiliar voice on a radio, but to him almost every voice in the Samaritans was unfamiliar.



"Everything okay--"



He couldn't finish his sentence before it was revealed they had hit SOMEONE. Fuck, dude. Fuck. All of a sudden, Connor was very awake. The Soldier leaned forward, "Did you see them? They--"



Again, interrupted by the sudden approach of a figure who tore open the door. Zs didn't do that shit-- this was a bona-fide human being who sounded about as pissed as he could be and looked worse.



"Jesus--! Fuckin' ch--"



Everything was happening so fast that it was all he could do to stagger back against the seat and white knuckle his pistol; after all, he hadn't exactly done anything wrong yet. Demands were being thrown. Tensions rose. The tattooed lady launched out of the door, assaulting the man who - all things considered - hadn't done anything to deserve that, but he understood the sudden need to act. Yet, then out came her pistol. Fuck. What the fuck?



Connor bear crawled over the seat between the and launched himself out the still open door, "Fucking STOP THAT!"



The Soldier could almost feel the recoil in his own hands. He couldn't stand to see another HUMAN die right now. They didn't have time to pick silly fights right now; they were so close to Northview that he could feel it.



Connor shoved his pistol into lip of his pants before snagging Dutchess under her arms and trying to pull her off of the battered man, "Fucking-- calm the fuck down!"

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[Aegis]

Northview

The Infirmary​

Walk? The Boy didn't know if he could walk, but he could try. Tanner sat up and was immediately tangled in the sickening knots in his stomach, a pounding headache. He immediately let out a sigh as bile slicked the back of his throat, he held himself together. Tanner slumped forward in a shower of droplets from the bangs of his hair as leftover blood that hadn't dried cascaded to the infirmary floor. The Boy froze-- taking in that occurrence.

"Ow- oh- ugggggghhh..."

Blood mixed spittle dangled from the corner of his mouth prompting him to wipe it from his face-- the sleeve of his Hoodie now slick with blood. His face was hot. Nose hurt a lot. As a matter of fact, he hurt a lot, everywhere.

The door burst open. A zombie, here. Now. It was going to kill him and there wasn't much he could do about it as the panic and horror stretched across his face-- his battered mind registering everything far too late for him to react in anything more meaningful than a scowl. Yet, the people around him took care of it without much issue. The gunshot sounding off loud enough to send his mind screaming and his hands cupping his ears as he shot a glare to the man who had done it.

Tanner slid off of the bed and as the bottom of his shoes hit the ground it felt like his brain bounced from the bottom of his skull to the top and he nearly fell over.

"Ooop-- fuck. Ow. I need..."

The Boy swayed in place for a moment before forcing another step; Tanner shook his head and if it would clear the fog in his mind, but it simply agitated his already pulsing mind further into a full-on migraine like ice picks stabbing into his bones.

Bile, again. Tanner leaned over and spat onto the floor. He hadn't quite vomited outright, but the gathering saliva prompted him to just want to get it out.


"Mmmmm, hurts..."


Tanner shook again-- knees nearly buckling, but he remained upright. All kinds of people were talking around him, but it was everything he could do to pull himself into his own world of concentration to stay awake.

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[Miaow]

NORTHVIEW - The Fence Line
A collab with Bullyboy Squad ​

Within moments, Haewon was swarmed by Samaritans as they retreated back inside the school. She could only just hear the scraping of the gate against the truck as the weight of the infected pushed it open. She knocked shoulders with the men as they fell back, fighting against the wave.

The creature's arms hurled at one of Cabrera's men beside her. Its head burst like a watermelon with a shower of rotten grime thrown at them. The leader zeroed in on another skull. Steady exhale and it exploded next.

"You heard him, get inside!" One enforcer commanded, grabbing Haewon by the arm but she wrestled out of his grip.

"THERE'S A BREACH!" She yelled over the noise of the infected, shoving her way over to Cabrera, "THEY'RE IN THROUGH THE BACK WALL! THEY GOT INSIDE THE SCHOOL!"

The shouting jerked on Ignacio's attention but he didn't pull away from the rifle. He couldn't do shit. Not yet. Not until he got everybody inside and blocked the front door so they wouldn't pour in from both sides. Fuck! "JUST GET THE FUCK INSIDE, GIRL!" Another round chambered. Another squeeze of the trigger sending it through the closest monster.

As Haewon made it beside Cabrera, something moved out of the corner of her eye, something far faster and more alive than the infected surrounding them. She straightened her back, squinting into the sunrise... motorcycles. A whole fleet of motorcycles perched on top of a hill, watching them die. She couldn't take a moment to think, she didn't have time to think. She had to make a decision.

"COVER ME!" She yelled, bursting through the horde. Xander was right, her sister needed a home to come back to and at this rate, there'd be nothing left.

Cabrera was just in the process of slamming in a fresh magazine when he saw her dart into the crowd of decay. His already sped up heart skipped a beat. What the hell was she doing?!

"GET THE HELL BACK HERE!" The Samaritan roared and hurried to cant the rifle and break a shot. Nothing. It didn't feed. "Fuck-"

Haewon weaved through the bodies, their fingers scraping against her skin as they groped at her. She pulled her long sleeves over her hands, using her elbows to fight them off. They dug their nails into her skin, gauging at the flesh on the back of her neck and face.

She soon reached the fence line, lacing her fingers through the chain-link. There were infected everywhere, she'd just blend in with them, she needed to get higher. She quickly scanned along the fence for some path upwards. There was no way she could scale the fence as it was, the holes were too small for her feet to get any grip. Further down the fence was a pile of supply crates, stacked up by the Samaritans as they waited to be sorted. She sprinted alongside the fence line, shoving past bodies as they tried to pin her to the fence. She leaped onto the bottom crate, scrambling her way up as high as she could.

She felt the stack wobble beneath her as she reached the top crate, holding her arms out beside her to steady herself. Then, she threw them over her head, waving to the bikers and screaming for help. She knew there was no way her voice could project that far, that the bikers wouldn't hear her, but maybe they'd see her. The crates shifted beneath her, causing her to fall forward, her stomach against the top of the fence. She looked over her shoulder, winded by the impact, as the infected swarmed the crates, shaking the foundations. She swallowed, watching them try to scale the pile to get to her. She clung to the fence, lifting one arm to continue waving at the bikers. She had to stay up there as long as possible, she had to get help.

As she waved, she felt the top crate slip from beneath her feet, sending her toppling over the top of the fence. She yelped, trying to catch herself on the fence, but landed with a thud on the opposite side. She rolled on impact, stumbling to her feet and backing up against the fence. She wheezed, the air forced from her lungs as her back had hit the ground below. She felt fingers scraping at her back from inside the school as even more infected approached her from outside, frantically fighting past each other to get to their next meal.

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