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Post by .Merios on Oct 19, 2010 10:04:15 GMT -5
Sitting on the hood of what looked like remnants of an old Magnificent Turkey, Matthew propped his legs up on what was left of the rear bumper and slid back a bit, leaning on the frame of the rear windshield. It was starting to feel like morning again, and the shadow of the large "GAS STATION" sign cast a shadow over him just perfectly, outlining his figure in a dark circle. He could hear the moans of a few zombies as they crossed the large, wide expanse of ground that consisted of the pumps, parking lot and road. His eyes were trained on one specific zombie- a child, no more than ten years old. It was a boy and had short, brown hair with a Blues Hockey jacket on.
He slid his right hand down to the side and gripped the stock of an old Winchester Repeater. It wasn't his- not sure whose it was, but he was using it. Having found it on the skeletal remains of some poor soul on the roof of the department store. He brought the rifle across his lap and, still leaning back and relaxing, he brought his left hand down to his side to open up a cardboard box of ammunition. His fingers fished around for a moment before he withdrew two .44 slugs and set them on his lap, watching as the boy stumbled within 25 feet of him and steadily approached. Matthew opened the cache on the rifle and slid the two remaining bullets in, filling the ammunition quota for the firearm. He brought the lever back and lifted the rifle.
He shouldered it and sat up a bit, lifting the sights to aim at the young zombie. He hesitated. The iron sights drooped a bit and swayed as a bead of sweat traced his brow. It reminded him of his own son, Oliver. It was almost as if he was aiming at his own family. He shook it off, moving his index finger to the trigger and leveling the iron sight at the nasal passage that's center mass in the head. He squinted and pulled the trigger, the round smashing into the zombie's head and snapping it backwards, knocking the young creature off it's feet and onto the ground. The caved-in face now slowly filling with coagulated bodily fluids. He flicked his right hand, snapping the lever forward and clicking it back into position.
There were still more zombies- no matter how many he managed to pick off, they still came. There was never enough ammunition to finish them all off. He noticed the loud gun shot attracted a bit more attention than he realized and promptly swung his legs to the side, letting them drag on the ground as he jumped to his feet. He gripped the rifle in his right hand as he snatched up the ammunition in his left hand, cradling it. He jogged a bit, reaching the front of the gas station and backing up against the boarded-up door. He took a look at his surroundings and turned to his right, heading around the side of the station and stopping immediately.
It seemed a crowd had gathered in the back entrance, near the garage door. He sighed a bit, backing up and walking to the nearest wall of the gas station, propping the rifle up against it and reaching down to his side with his right hand to grasp the radio. He pulled it up and took a look around- he was safe for the time being, they hadn't noticed him. He depressed the trigger on the walkie talkie as he brought it to his face.
"Looks like we'll have some friends over for dinner. I wouldn't advise exiting at this time."
He looked around once more, taking exact measurements as if small numbers popped up above their heads.
"I counted twenty-six, I repeat twenty-six stenches crowding around the back entrance and the garage door. I'll need an alternate route inside, I don't want to lead them in."
He set the radio back on his hip and gently used his index and thumb to turn the volume down a bit. He reached over and grasped his Winchester, digging into the ammunition and pulling out what was left in the small cardboard box and letting it drop, stuffing the rounds into his left pocket. Gripping the rifle in both hands now, he made his way back around front. He stopped as he approached the corner. Ten more. Just his luck. Where were they coming from? He had more than enough room to meander around them, but he'd need a fortified position soon.
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Post by Mikey on Oct 19, 2010 10:47:35 GMT -5
“Eh, broken.“ Tyson said with a shrug about his injured leg. He was walking around, the limp was less pronounced than it had been last night. Seemed the long night of elevation helped it.
Twinkies went airborne as Aya called for them, Tyson pulling out one for himself as well. He didn’t remember the last time he’d eaten a Twinkie. He probably took better care of himself than Aya. When it came down to it, her body did most of the work for her. He worked out every day, stuck to the foods that tasted like cardboard stuffed to the brim with vitamins or minerals. Even butchered anything that could be good while trying to make it healthy. This was the first junk food he’d had in years. He was pretty sure since before he’d joined the Army.
He bit into the Twinkie while he listened to Aya list off everything that was going on, all developments that had taken place sometime in the last eight or so hours. Amazing what you could get done when you didn’t sleep. He couldn’t remember doing as much on a sleepless night, usually because something destructive was going to happen, keeping him awake in a state of anticipation.
He chewed the Twinkie for a few bites and stopped mid way. He’d gone without crap that was bad for you that he’d lost the taste, apparently. Guess it was almond butter on wheat bread from now on. Or an MRE, much more likely any day of the week. That had to be why he couldn’t enjoy real food, part of it at least.
He held out his hand for her to take the other half of the sponge cake and raised his eyebrow at something she said.
“Mobile platform? They actually make those things? Like, a whole lab slash hospital deal that gets shipped around by chopper?” He asked. “Hmm.” He said, his eyebrows raising and lips squeezing together in an interested look for a moment. “We used to call them M.A.S.H.’s.” He added.
His expression changed to one of deep interest and a half smile crossed his lips when she started talking about fixing up his armor. He took a great pride in that suit, it was a part of him, like a friend he’d always been able to count on when he didn’t have anyone else nearby. Thick and thin, even when he’d seen the worst of people, it was there to lend a hand. It was like a living entity, a symbiotic brotherhood. She spoke of how good it felt to put the mask on, and he laughed.
“Exactly.” He said. “Human nature to feel certain things when a person sees the real you. Take that out of the equation, it’s like being free.” He said. Free from the confines of being a human being, the feelings that brought weakness with them. You were unstoppable, because you felt like it. If you believed it, everyone else would when they saw how much you did.
“I’ll have you know that I skip merrily and hum the Little Orphan Annie song.” Tyson said when she speculated on what Matt was doing. “Course, this kinda puts a damper on that.” He said, motioning to the cast.
As if he heard them, Matt’s voice came over the radio, telling them not to use the back door. Tyson rolled his eyes.
“Does he know what it means to lay low? Or ever stop to think that mobbing the goddamn zombies at the back door is a bad idea?” Tyson said, throwing his hands up in the air and shrugging his shoulders to emphasize his point. “Should we let him sweat it out or tell him about the roof hatch?” He said, not in a hurry. Matt was a big boy, he got himself into this mess. And he was very friggin’ capable of getting himself out.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Oct 20, 2010 5:34:30 GMT -5
Rolling her eyes as she cleaned up the second twinkie; Aya hoped Tyson would take his medical situation at least a little more seriously, 'Even a 'feels less broken than yesterday' would have sufficed,' folding up the plastic wrapper and flicking it across the room. Tyson offered the rest of his own twinkie which Aya happily snatched up, smiling, 'If that doesn't prove how much of a soldier he is... probably treat a lady to a candle light MRE,'Mouth full, Aya shook her head at Tyson's curiousity to the mobile platforms manufacture - pointing that she needed to finish off before speaking, "No-no. When I first started PMC-D I knew we'd need to keep ahead in research, make us the more favorable contractors and such," brushing her thumb across her lips, "Of course we didn't really have the funds for a professional platform so I had to be a little resourceful about it. I bought a half dozen of those big silver bullet trailers cheap from a guy from Austin, over in Texas. Took'em back to HQ and outfitted them for emergency medical and research operations," Aya recalled the flak she had taken for going in such a direction; effectively it 'looked' better to have nothing at all rather than be unprofessional about it, "Saved me millions of dollars, and they worked fine in the end so they sort of became a part of the team. Although the company could probably replace them whenever they want now,""Looks like we'll have some friends over for dinner. I wouldn't advise exiting at this time." Aya slipped her radio from the harness as Matthew's voice crackled through it, a roundoff of the infected outside. Before hitting talk, "Stenches?" she looked up to Tyson. It was obvious what the name was for, first time she had heard of the nick; it beat 'zulu' anyway. “Should we let him sweat it out or tell him about the roof hatch?” Aya laughed lightly at Tyson's query; not particularly at it's possible purposeful humor, but how potentially serious it most likely was. She thumbed transmit, "Matt, take a deep breath and relax. Carriers can't see you if you don't move," Aya didn't doubt Matt knew about the roof hatch. She dropped the radio back down to the bench, "A group that big will just bring in more where they came from. Let's load up and get ready to move out. We'll cut up enough to get our vehicles free," Aya hopped off her stool and headed over to the basement entrance. It was a good excuse as any to get off their asses and get moving again. Aya gathered up her mask and several tools she had been using, throwing them back up through the hole before shutting the power off on all of the major equipment. Climbing back out, Aya slammed the hatch shut and padlocked it, throwing the key under some random shelving. Second to go was all of the info she had printed off with the analyzer, dumping it in the waste paper basket and lighting it up. She picked up the radio while heading over to Tyson's Ford, "Think you could remove some of the infected from the garage doors, Matt? Enough to get the vehicles out," she dumped all of her heavy equipment into a lone corner of the flatbed, pausing for a moment before pulling her mask back up, "Once we're out we'll keep the opening clear for you to hop in and grab your Chevy," lacing the leather around her neck and sitting the hunk of metal on her head. Disassembling the EBR and loading it into a tool case the girl had acquired and lined with foam, Aya strapped it to the tail of the Luna, "Let us know when it's clear and we'll open up," she issued while double checking each of the rooms making sure they weren't forgetting anything.
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Post by .Merios on Oct 21, 2010 11:41:02 GMT -5
Matthew listened to her voice crackle over the radio, wanting him to clear out some of the hostiles so they could make their getaway. He moved back and started back around the back of the building. The smell was overwhelming enough to make him pull his scarf up over his nose. He lifted the rifle and circled around the group, moving towards the far side of the back courtyard and backing up against a fence. He lifted the rifle and shouldered it, lifting the sights at one of the zombies in an ancillary position and fired. A spray of brain matter and coagulation streaked against the back wall as the creature snapped forward and fell against the brick, sliding down the wall on it's left cheek.
The group slowly turned towards Matthew, now seeing him as food- compared to the food that was inside the large tin shell they were clawing to get at, he was an easier target. He cocked the rifle with his trigger hand, pulling it forward and back once again, and lifted the sights, firing. Another head shot sent another zombie to the ground, toppling over a second stench. He cocked it once more as the group got closer. This wasn't fast enough. He pulled the strap on the gun and slipped it around his torso, withdrawing his Mateba in his right hand and his Stoeger sawn-off in his left.
He cocked the Mateba with his right thumb before pulling the trigger, sending the round crashing into the chest of a close zombie, toppling it to the side. He stepped forward, moving the shotgun up and lifting the sights. With his left middle finger, he pulled the left trigger. The .12 gauge blast tore through the grouping of zombies, sinew, innards and gore splashed to the ground as bodies fell. He didn't count how many, but he quickly moved the shotgun and aimed it at the other side of the crowd. He pulled the right trigger this time, sending another buckshot into the crowd. The round didn't do as much damage as the previous shot, but it still toppled over about six.
He slid the sawn-off back into his jacket and side-stepped cautiously around the now-thinned out group, circling them and heading back to the garage door that was now clear to walk near. He pressed his back up against it, holding his Mateba in both hands and squeezing off a two shots into the crowd, downing one. He brought his right elbow back to bang at the garage door, sending a ripple thundering down the aluminum. He sighed, knowing that the zombies were doing just that a second ago and he had to find a different way to get their attention.
He slid across the garage door, taking one more shot at the crowd as he pulled his radio from his belt with his left hand, holding his handcannon in his right. He depressed the talk button as he fired another shot.
"Alright, they're clear. Just break right when you leave unless you want some roadkill."
He slid the radio back onto his waist and leveled the Mateba once more, squinted and lined up a unique shot. He waited until two of the creatures were standing in a lined fashion and put the iron sights in the nasal cavity of the first- he fired, sending the round deep into the zombie's skull and having it explode out the skull, smashing into the second's left cheek and dropping them both with a wet thud. He brought the revolver up to his face and inhaled as the smoke left the barrel, savoring the smell of an empty cylinder for a moment as he backed up, allowing the garage to open if it were to.
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Post by Mikey on Oct 24, 2010 22:56:24 GMT -5
“All right, moving out, I like it.” Tyson said, limping to the truck. He looked inside the cab to make sure everything was there. It would be, unless someone messed with his stuff after he’d went to sleep. Looked like it was all there. He pulled out the sawed off Remington from the dashboard and ran his hand over the Glock tucked in his waistband. Ready for a fight with some zombies. Good ol’ zombies. They didn’t shoot back, always good in his book. He could get past the smell and the pieces falling off and all that easy enough. Didn’t mean much to someone as strong stomached as him.
He watched as Aya checked to make sure everything was loaded up, and Matt gave them the all clear.
Grasping the chain that ran along the pulley and opened the door, his Remington held out and ready to fire. But, it looked like Matt made well on his word. Nothing rushed in at the moment, and Tyson had the time to get back to his truck. He kept the shotgun on the seat next to him, started up the refurbished vehicle, and revved the motor up a few times. He jammed his foot on the clutch, put it into first gear, and hit the gas. The truck jolted to life and he exited the garage. Stopping near the gas pumps, Tyson grabbed his weapon and opened the door. He put his weight on his good leg and kept the broken one inside the truck as he pressed his back against the profile of the truck and aimed the weapon.
A shot echoed, and buckshot hit the crowd on the other side of the doors. He pumped the weapon and a new shell was put in place. “Hurry up!” He yelled, not panicked in the least. Just making his voice carry the distance. He just wanted to get on the road, to whatever it was they were going to do.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Oct 24, 2010 23:30:27 GMT -5
Kicking the footpeg down and jamming the engine, once the Luna woke Aya twisted accelerate forcing life into its extremities. Tyson was allowed out first; if there were any roadkill available he was more than capable of rolling it out flat, cut a path for the fragile super bike.
Riding over the mound of dead infected trial bike style, Aya pulled up next to the Ford burning a quarter circle into the cement to face the infected flush, drawing her Pro-9. Carriers became more attracted to the two new noise makers, plenty of space for Matt to slip in and grab the Impala. Aya's attention was firmly placed on the remaining stragglers at the garage door, pot shotting any too close for comfort and soaking up the rest of the agro.
Kicking off again, Aya pulled around to the opposite side of the pumps drawing the mob further away from the gas station letting out a piercing whistle along with her screaming engine. A brief tap to her ear, "Tyson, don't wait. Soon as you see Matt get out start heading north. The streets'll fill quick," she highlighted alleys and side roads where carriers were already pooling out from; they were probably the loudest crowd in a 20 mile radius.
Pulling her hood over her head, reloading, Aya circled away from the mob again to make a little more distance before engaging.
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Post by .Merios on Oct 29, 2010 2:45:39 GMT -5
Tyson sped out as he holstered his shotgun into it's leather sheath underneath his left arm pit, moving to the side just in time as the front bumper clipped a shambler on the side, knocking it into one of the pumps with a sickening crack. Seconds after, Aya spun out with her bike, moving up alongside Tyson behind a gas pump. A few rounds later, he finally had his opening. He ducked past two zombies as they reached out for him, charging into the garage. His Impala was in the back and he quickly unwrapped the Winchester from around his back and held it in his right hand as he approached the hood of the Chevrolet, jumping on the hood and sliding across it on his rear end, skidding to a halt on the other side and swinging the driver door open.
He tossed the rifle inside, letting it smack against the back seat as he slid in, bringing his feet in and slamming the door, reaching up to the keys that were hanging from the dash and turned them, roaring the engine to life as he reached over and drew the seatbelt across his chest. He brought his right hand down to the stick and slammed it into drive, pushing down on the gas and revving the engine as he sped forward, reaching the garage door momentarily. As the front of the car exited, he pulled back the emergency brake and spun the steering wheel to the right while giving the car some gas, whipping the back end around in a drift, clipping two zombies as he straightened himself out.
He noticed Tyson and Aya were a few car lengths ahead of him and he flashed his lights, bringing the emergency brake back down. He reached to the passenger side and ducked down, fishing around in an old beat up cardboard box in the passenger floor board. He withdrew a cassette tape and smirked, bringing it to the radio and slipping it in, letting the tape deck suck it into the dash. Within seconds Van Halen spurted out of the speakers, giving a little ambiance to the scene as he waited for them to get moving.
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Post by Mikey on Oct 30, 2010 8:49:01 GMT -5
Another boom echoed against the building and the awning over the gas pumps as Tyson let loose another shell of buckshot. He pumped the shotgun, one round left, and paused when he saw the black Impala roll out of the garage.
Matt was out. Time to go.
Spinning on his good leg and grabbing the open door of the Ford for support, he saw a group of walkers closing in behind him. No immediate danger, the door was too high for any of them to get a good angle for a bite, but Tyson aimed the shotgun their way and let loose his last shell. Blood spilled onto the ground as the first one took a hit center mass, stumbling it and stopping its advance. Tyson slipped back into the cab and shut the door. No way they’d get past the bullet proof glass and siding. But they wouldn’t get the chance to try.
His engine had been running, ready to go as soon as Tyson was. He hit the clutch, shifted to first, and shot from his spot out into the street. Making a hard right as soon as he jumped the sidewalk, he shifted from first to third. A slight slowing, followed by a rapid increase in speed. The same again when he went from third to fifth. Approaching a hundred miles per hour by the time he hit the city limits, he keyed his radio as he slowed down.
“Everyone accounted for?” He asked to them both, bracing the shotgun against his hip and feeding shells in one at a time. He left the chamber empty, but slipped a shell into his pocket to load it when he got the chance.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Oct 31, 2010 10:11:59 GMT -5
Pausing her fire for a moment to glance towards the Black Betty; why the hell did Matthew stop? The situational metal answered that, a slight wobble in stereo quality defining the primitive means of audio hardware. Aya rolled back as Tyson broke his Ford into gear reaching 60 more than fast enough. Holstering her sidearm while accelerating, slaloming partially to avoid the carriers Ty had been kind enough to leave alive, Aya pressed her stomach against the body of the bike keeping an eye on the Ford's tail light. They had all witnessed the blockade at the Northeast end of town, the burnt out gas tanker; she didn't want to miss the turnoff Tyson had in mind. Crunching iron resonated ahead as the Ford stormed through a gateway; the right gate flew off down the dirt road, Aya dodged the left as it rebounded on its hinges. Nice move. She hadn't considered the back road as an exit strategy on the way in; might have had something to do with not wanting to plough her bike through it. No denying the handiness of an icebreaker when you had one around. Emerging back onto a proper road, comfort increasing with the dip in vibration, the crew passed through a tunnel. A charming end to their vacation, the switch from pitch black to dry light resetting the girl. “Everyone accounted for?” Tyson's voice buzzed in her ear, "Here," Aya replied, lifting her arm up and looking behind, "Matt too. We're good,"The only 3 figures visible in 60 miles. Eventually the wobbling horizon swallowed the convoy up from visibility. Any memories of Still Creek left behind. [Heading for the Desert]
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Post by Rhinn on Dec 21, 2010 15:42:32 GMT -5
[Arriving from Sherrif's Station] Lilly aimed the cruiser at the opening and then, at the last second, shut off the engine, cutting the noise that the car was making. As silently as a Crown Vic could be, it rolled into the garage. Lilly struggled with the stearing wheel... with no point, the power steering was off and it was only manual steering. While they were at high speeds it didn't matter, but when the car slowed down, it became harder to manuever. She tugged on the wheel to get the car to move a few more inches to the left, just clearing the door. There was a sudden lurch as the front tires hit the ramp into the garage area and then Lilly slammed on the breaks, almost standing up on the pedal. With no power there was only one or two pumps before the hydraulics locked up. It slowed the car down and then it came to a stop, bumping into the machine that raises cars into the rack. For a second, Lilly wanted to just sit there and close her eyes, but she knew that they weren't safe. Unfastening her seatbelt, she kicked open the door and was out of the car, aiming her AR-15 around, Ruger holstered at her side. As far as she could see, there weren't any undead inside, but there had been several that she had flown past in her drive here. No doubt they were converging on the open garage door. She ran to the door and slapped the button on the side of the wall nearest the door. Slowly, the door began to creak downward. Pop Pop Pop!!! She pulled the trigger three times, sending three of the nearest walkers down to the ground to stay. She had set her AR-15 to semi-auto as to not waste ammo. She popped off another three round burst, nailing a woman wearing hospital scrubs in the shoulder and then in the head. The woman's arm swung backward from the first impact and then her head snapped backward and Lilly thought she saw a black mist appear from the exit wound as blood, skull and skin exploded outward. She crumpled to the ground as a man with his lower jaw ripped off stumbled over her. His leg was torn out of socket and he drug it behind him. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the door slammed down, providing some form of protection against the undead outside. At last count, Lilly had only seen 10 undead heading their way, but there was no way to know what was behind the station... or inside for that matter. Attachments:
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Post by Rhinn on Dec 28, 2010 18:58:04 GMT -5
Lilly walked back over to the car. She stopped when she smelled gas and saw a puddle running out from under the rear of the car. Dang it! she thought. She quickly grabbed a bucket and got down on her knees, looking under her car. There was a gash in the bottom of the tank and gas was leaking out of it. She slid the bucket underneath the gash, hoping to collect enough gas to start the car. Still, she knew that they would have to repair the tank and fill it back up to get out of the area. She stood back up and looked around. Somewhere in here there were the tools to fix it... she would just have to find them. Making her way to the side of the car, she opened the back passenger door. There, the young girl sat looking at her. "Anna?" Attachments:
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Post by Rhinn on Jan 3, 2011 19:23:36 GMT -5
There was no answer from the backseat of the car. Lilly peered in, fearing the worst. The body of the girl was limp and Lilly quickly checked her pulse. It was strong and constant. Quickly checked her for bites on her arms and legs, as much as she could. When she couldn't find anything, she guessed that Anna must have either hit her head in the crazy drive over to the station or passed out from panic. Either way, the girl was still alive. Lilly shut the door and began to look around the garage. For the most part, it was a typical garage with tools and machinery everywhere. Reaching into the front seat, Lilly grabbed her AR-15 and checked it for rounds. It was still loaded, so Lilly flipped the safety off and then went to explore. The first area was the convenience store front. She was hungry and getting any type of food from here was better than eating up her stores. She poked the door open with the barrel of her gun and leaned her head in. It was empty, and the windows had been boarded up. Between the boards, there was movement, but Lilly could only guess at what it was. Quietly she moved over through the store. It had been ransacked many times, but there was always the chance that something was missed. She came to a shelf where a few packages of nuts were laying on their side. She checked them to see if they had been opened... they hadn't. She stuffed them in her pockets and continued looking. It took her 30 minutes to finish up her search of the store. She had managed a few packages of nuts, a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a gallon of water. Everything else was pretty much either moldy or ripped to pieces. She came back into the garage area, setting the food and drink down on one of the benches. Then she popped the trunk of her car and began to take inventory of what she had. She heard movement from the front of the car and poked her head out from the side of the trunk lid. "Anna, are you awake?" Attachments:
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Marc Firewing
Zombie Hunter
The Chicago Typewriter
Zombie Hunter Extraordinaire.
Posts: 227
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Post by Marc Firewing on Jan 7, 2011 19:57:50 GMT -5
The state of exhaustion kicked in, her eyes had become closed and she was out like a light. Not to mention the insane driving made her hit a few things along the way. But slowly, she came round and her eyes slipped open slowly. Her gentle left hand rose to her sore right temple. Hands moved downwards, pushing herself up to a sitting position slowly. When she looked around with blurred vision, she had no idea where she was which scared her at first. But as her vision came back, she remembered what had happened. Opening the unlocked door, Anna stepped out onto the floor, almost falling.
"H-Hello?" Her voice said softly, looking around slowly as she struggled to keep her balance.
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Post by Rhinn on Jan 10, 2011 0:11:20 GMT -5
Lilly heard a faint voice and looked around the lid of the trunk. Anna, the girl she had picked up was coming around. Lilly went to the door.
"Are you okay? You seemed to take a nasty hit when we barrelled over that curb. I have a first aid kit and some food that I found in the shop. We seem to be safe now..."
Lilly realized she was babbling and shut up. Then she stuck out her hand. "I'm Lilly, a LAPD Dectective."
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Post by Rhinn on Jan 23, 2011 21:34:46 GMT -5
(moving on)
Lilly went back to the food that she had found. It wasn't a 5 course meal at the Waldorf, but it was fresh and filling. Then she drank the rest of her drink and sat back, looking at her car. The moaning outside was faint but with no more explosions any sound they made would surely draw the the attention of the undead outside.
Deciding that it was better to survey the damage than to sit there and hope, Lilly got up and took off her jacket. She went over to the trunk and opened her suitcase. She folded the jacket neatly and then unbuttoned her blouse and folded it up as well. She didn't want to get her work suit dirty so she changed into a pair of faded blue jeans and a black t-shirt. She pulled on a pair of black hiking boots. Then she fastened her holster around her shoulder and made sure it's safety was on.
"Time to see what the damage is." She grabbed one of the mechanics rolling carts for checking under a vehicle and laid down on it. Then she grabbed a flashlight and rolled herself under the back of her car.
It was pretty evident what the damage was. The gas tank had a 1 foot gash in bottom of the tank. There were multiple scratches all over it from taking the dirt road up here.
Rolling out, she took a greasy towel from a rack and wiped her hands on it. The repair would be easy... for someone who knew how to do it.
"Okay Lilly, you can do this. All you need is a small steel plate and a welding torch. Then with it repaired, they would just have to drive outside and fill it up... all while surrounded by the undead.
"Hey Ana, you wouldn't happen to know how to weld would you?"
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