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Post by Winters on Jul 30, 2011 1:52:39 GMT -5
Listening to the red headed woman speak, Trent realized that maybe she wasnt going to be helpless after all, she seemed to have a good idea. If all three of them could think back to what happened, the last thing they remembered, maybe they would be able to connect it together and formulate a reason why they woke up here in the first place. The only problem was, Trent didnt remember anything useful himself. "Last place I remember being was a hell of a lot warmer than this ice block, some place in Chicago, cant remember where. I was... I got into the glass... And woke up strapped up to a table like some kind of experiment. Piece was gone, but not the ammunition. Or my bulb..."
Taking out the small, glass blown pipe from his pocket, Trent fished around for his lighter, too. Finding that, and a small bag of his product, the biker slipped a few crystals into the end and then lit up right in front of the two BSAA Agents. There was a time when all this stuff was illegal, and he took it upon himself to always carry around a fresh batch, just because he could. "I aint rememberin sh*t... All I do know is without this leather jacket, I wouldve been frozen to death by now, I walked all around this damned thing, never seen land. Aside from all this fog, id reckon were pretty far out at sea, not like it matter anyways..."
Taking another breath of vapor, Trent closed his eyes and relished the hit. Under the normal circumstance, he would offer it to the ones around him, figure he got nothing to lose by doing so. But they were pigs, end of story. "Tried gettin up to the top, but before I could get around to the other side, I seen you, figured you had something to do with that. My bad, im guessin..."
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Post by Caliber on Jul 30, 2011 2:16:10 GMT -5
Izzie stopped and thought for a moment, desperately trying to remember where she was before she ended up here, but to no avail. She couldn't remember in the slightest. Before she opened her mouth to speak, the man in the jacket spoke from the back of the room. He paused for a moment, taking out his pipe. Izzie turned her head to him in disbelief, but quickly decided that they've got more important things to worry about-- like hypothermia. Not even the thickest of leather jackets would prevent it in this weather. Truth be told, they were screwed if they didn't find land and take shelter.
"I've got nothing," Izzie said. "In both senses of the term-- I've literally got none of my gear, and I can't remember sh*t," she added. "Which is bad news for all of us, because my satchel had all my medical supplies and drugs."
Izzie gestured for the red-headed woman to sit on one of the steps, then began looking at her arm. It was dislocated, just as she thought. It would be easy to fix, though incredibly painful. The trick to minimize pain was to distract the patient and not let them know it's coming-- keep them from anticipating it. Izzie struck up a topic, which would prompt a response from the girl. She would snap her arm back into place while she was busy speaking.
"Anyway," she said, extending her arm to the woman's working one, for a handshake. "Major Isobel Wolf. I'm a trauma surgeon, and captain of several medical teams back in Seattle," she said, primarily to the red-head, but intending the man in back to hear her, as well-- not that he'd care. "S.T.A.R.S. ; B.S.A.A.," she said, finally, pointing to the B.S.A.A. breast patch on her shirt. "You?" she asked.
As the woman began speaking, Izzie prepared herself. Mid-sentence, Izzie shoved the woman's arm back into place, causing extreme pain, which was significantly worse, due to the impending hypothermia.
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Post by NotAvailable on Jul 30, 2011 2:29:23 GMT -5
Anna grinned and was right about to remark about how the doctor's drugs were missing and how their druggy friend probably had something to do with it when a jolt of lightening like pain had ripped through her arm, shoulder and then torso. Her eyes reddened, watered, face flared as red as her hair and she'd screamed. A high pitched screamed that sounded like someone being murdered.
"F*CKING MOTHER OF GOD! MOTHER F*CKING B*TCH SH*T F*CK!!" she screamed, grasping at her arm and hissing, her cheeks drenched in sweat and tears. Apparently the pain had brought upon a terrible terets (sp?) induced fit. She'd heaved over in agonizing pain that pulsated in her arm socket. The headache she had, worsened and from there, she'd been assured that it wouldn't go away anytime soon.
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Post by Winters on Jul 30, 2011 2:37:57 GMT -5
After enhaling the last bit of crystal, Trent caughed out hard when the woman screamed in pain. Standing up from the table, he shoved the pipe back into his pocket, and spoke out in an elevated voice. "Woman, keep your damn mouth shut if you cant keep it quiet... Them things, I know theyre outside, and they might not be able to smell us by they can certainly hear us." Not really caring at the moment, Trent opened up the large door again, and looked outside, feeling the gust of air jolt in toward them all. He didnt see any infected around, and quickly came to the conclusion that they wouldnt be able to hear anything behind all of this steel on the ship, combined with the sound being carried away by the storm.
Closing over the door, Trent put his back against it, and then spoke out. "You got a gun, I say you go out there, and get to the top level. The captains quarters, if theres a way off this ship, its in there. Maybe the controls still work, and if thats the case, we can at least turn on the heating system. Better than just sitting in here, trying to remember what happened. Lets make the most of it before the weather gets any worse, seals us in here, the doors already gettin pretty heavy." The high was kicking in, but it wasnt interfering with his judgement. If anything, it was pumping his blood faster, warming him up and making him quicker on his feet.
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Post by Caliber on Jul 30, 2011 2:56:40 GMT -5
Izzie stepped back as the woman yelped in the brief pain that she experienced. Shouldn't have hurt for more than an instant, but people usually continue to react from the shock.
"Makes me glad I took that half-year residency in Orthopedics, or that could have hurt a lot worse," Izzie laughed.
The man in the jacket stood from his seat and yelled commanding the red-head to keep it down.
"I somehow get the feeling that there aren't a whole lot of infected out there, considering it looks as though the majority of the residents abandoned ship," Izzie told him.
The man continued speaking. Izzie responded,
"Already thought about that," Izzie said, in response to the suggestion of turning on the heat. She pointed at several places on the wall around the room. "No vents, no heat. Still, maybe we can navigate this thing toward shore. As far as I can tell, this ship is fairly small-- only two decks, and it looks as though this is the only way down to the lower deck. The captains room must be up top; not much of a journey, provided the winds don't blow us overboard."
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Post by NotAvailable on Jul 30, 2011 3:15:38 GMT -5
Anna shot a glare up at the man and while she recovered from the initial pain and apaprent shock of the shoulder incident, she'd gotten upto her feet and grimaced, rolling her arm around a bit and squeezing her fingers into a tight fist, opening it, then closing it, repeat. When the agent had mentioned there being no real infected and no vents around, she'd started moving across the deck.
"I'm gonna go look for something, anything, useful, here," she began, handing the gun back to the women. She'd gestured toward the outside of the deck. "Now that my shoulder's better, sorta, I can handle things well unarmed. I'm gonna go take a look around, I'll entrust the ol' f*ck to you, Agent. You'd have a better grip on him than I will...and less likely to pop a cap in his skull," she told her. Making it very clear for the man to shape up or ship out.
"Maybe something useful out there since there ain't much here, that I know of. This was a cargo ship so we can cover the entire ground, splitting up. Brr... Wish I had my jacket on me still...either way, I'll go take a look outside," she told her. With that said, the redhead wandered along down the deck, pushing the swishing door open and feeling the wind cut into her face almost like icy knives.
Folding her arms tightly across her chest, she'd began to jog a bit down the deck. There was a large crate with a tarp and rope tied ontop of it. She'd wandered on over, grasping onto the rope and undoing the slipknot. Wasn't too hard, she'd had experience with these back in her Raccoon days. Pulling on the tarp, she'd slid it off and threw it over her shoulders, shivering and wrapping herself up, looking about.
She may have looked stupid, but it was a helluva lot warmer now. She'd continued down the deck, rounding a corner where she'd winced and wrapped the tarp tightly around her nose and mouth. There was a bloody mess near the bow of the boat. A loosened crate that was apparently awfully heavy, pushing up against a large, blood splattered spot against the metal railing.
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Post by Winters on Jul 30, 2011 15:39:23 GMT -5
"So your tellin me the stupid bastard who came up with the idea of taking this boat all the way out here, and not have any heaters installed? Then if ya need me, ill be in the boiler room. Once you get get the power back on, ill come back up..." Trent moved out of the door as well, not really caring if the hardass BSAA Agent had anything insightful to say about his plan. Him and her kind didnt mix well, cops and crooks, the times may have changed but the uniforms didnt.
Slamming the door to the lower connection stairway, Trent was a little iffy about the idea now. He had already wasted a booklet of matches trying to navigate his way out from down there before, but that was before he found his lighter tucked away nicely inside his other pocket. Flicking it up, the room shined in a light orange glow, surprisingly giving off a good amount of light. The further down the stairs he went, the warmer it got, but the worse it smelled. When he first woke up, he wasnt very much in the mood to be exploring around, just wanted to get up to the top of the boat and exact revenge on the people who put em here. But as of now, didnt seem like there was anything else to do but scavenge for supply. Just because he was a low-life junkie with a trigger finger didnt mean he spent 14 years dealing with the horrors everybody else did. He survived for a reason.
Dropping the lighter to the sound of banging next to him, the room went completely dark, all accept and emergency light far down the hallway. It wasnt enough to even find the lighter, though. Backing away from the door as quietly as possible, Trent started to try the other doors, not having much luck opening them. Frantically just trying to get to the back of the hallway, towards the light, he gave off a sprint. Finally pressing himself up against the wall, he could see bodies on the floor around him, and one of them had a flare gun attached to his side. Not being the brightest individual, he picked it up, and fired it down the hallway, shielding his eyes from the brightness that lasted about ten seconds. After that, the whole place was lit up. Residue from the chemicals lined the floor, and left trails of fire leading all the way down the hallway. Worked good enough for him.
Trent dropped the gun onto the ground, and was about to step forward, but a hand reached out and grabbed his ankle. Getting both a little freaked, but even more angered and annoyed, he spun around with his other foot and jammed his heel into the skull of the infected four times until it let go. Quickly moving back down the hallway, stepping over the fire, the lower deck had already started to warm up a little bit, two birds with one stone. But the main reason he came down here was because of what he seen in the room on his way by hours ago. Navigating to his lighter, Trent picked it up, and peered through the glass on the door to his right. The place was lit up by an emergency light, just as it was before, and a number of guns and other equipment could be seen laying around the room.
Grinning to himself, Trent put away the light, and then grabbed piece of hard steel from the floor, probably a tool of sometime, but it was too hard to tell and he didnt really care anyways. Smashing out the window was the easy part, he quickly stuck his arm inside, and felt around for the release on the door. A click and creek later, it opened up, and he got excited as he moved into the room. It was a bit hard to see, but the first thing he grabbed was the closest assault rifle he seen, in this case it was a AR15. Checking the magazine, it was fully loaded, so he assumed the rest of the guns laying around were as well. There was too many to take in his arms, but he had an idea.
Taking off his leather jacket, he spread it out on the floor, and then started to pile on guns and ammunition. Once it was full enough for him, including a little for the two ladies upstairs, he folded it over and used it as a bag. It would be a bit of a carry under his arm, but nothing he wouldnt be able to manage, he was strong enough to carry another in his other arm given the strength and motivation of actually having access to these firearms. Before picking up his loot, however, a shadow cast into the room from the hallway. "Hey, tits n legs, lookie lookie what I found..." Turning around, the red headed woman just stood in the hallway. Before he could make another comment, she moved forward, and thats when Trent realized it wasnt her.
Upon instinct, he ran forward, and knocked the infected back into the hallway up against the wall. Closing over the door, Trent grabbed a handgun from the table, aiming it at the window, just waiting for the demon to show itself. As the head rose up, he fired, hearing only clicks. Getting frustrated, he checked the magazine, seeing there wasnt any bullets in it. Fishing around, he found a handful of boxs, different kinds of low caliber ammunition. By this time, the infected had already started to try and crawl through the window, cutting itself on the broken shards of glass as it did so. Trent loaded up the magazine, pocketing several more of these boxes into his baggy jeans, and then picked up the bag. This time, he walked directly up to the zombie, put the barrel into its mouth, and pulled the trigger. There wasnt a chance in hell the ladies would hear the gunshot, not on a large ship like this. Not that he needed the backup, anyways.
Getting back out into the hallway, Trent lay down the bag of guns against the wall, and then pulled out the gun once again. The area was lit up pretty well, and it was a good time to search for a flashlight or something, just in case the lights didnt come on in the next half an hour. Being stuck in the dark was step one to getting your ass gnawed on my a walker. Several over bodies lay on the ground, most of them with inflictions in their head, thankfully. They werent armed, not even guarded, they looked to be just members of the crew or something. For whatever reason they were executed and not given the chance to jump ship was beyond his thinking. After a few minutes, however, Trent found a good flashlight, with a strong battery in it. Turning it on, he could see everything perfectly now.
The smouldering ashes were the only thing that remained now, and the heat was starting to leave the hallway. It was nice while it lasted, though. Looking at the handgun further, he seen that it was a military issue pistol, similar to the ones him and his boys smuggled over the seas from Russia back in the day. They fit the nines, so it would be easy on ammunition. Feeling around the barrel, however, a grim came over his face, as he laughed to himself. Moving back into the room, Trent searched around for the empty magazines, making sure he took a handful of them as well, stuffing majority of them into the bag with the guns.
About fifteen minutes later, Trent finished filling the last magazine for his own selection of guns, and then began placing them back into his jacket, but still wrapped up the rest of the guns. He couldve easily just taken what he needed, said thats all he found, and went on his way. But the way he looked at it, the more guns between them, the more of those walkers they could take down. Strength in numbers, thats what got him and his boys through the outbreak. It was a little strange being alongside the BSAA, but maybe the stash of guns would make amends for them, so they could focus on getting off this boat. As the thought crossed his mind, and patience was wearing thin, the lights in the hallway turned on. They werent as bright as he thought they would be, but it means somebody on the upper floors figured something out.
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