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Post by Jester on Jan 22, 2009 18:06:24 GMT -5
David has entered the streets.
It wasn’t long on foot until David started seeing figures just wandering around, luckily he had avoided getting even close to any infected. David jogged the back alleys of the streets to make his way to the RCPD. In the night howls and groans could be heard, and it was getting colder outside, lucky for David he picked up a bomber jacket from the airport just before he left. David slowed down once a figured walked drunkenly into his view right in front of him. David drew his handgun and trained in on the figure. He made it out to be a male about the same size as him, he was wearing a yellow shirt and blue jeans, and both stained with red blood. From his mouth came a low groan and the man was now only 20ft away from David. There was a horrible rotten smell that swept over David that almost made him gag, but he kept his composure. The man was now 15ft away, David knew he wasn’t human anymore e took action.
Bang!
David shot off a round into his knee cap, the man fell to a knee and began walking again as he did David placed another shot directly in his left shoulder. The gun recoiled back and the man stumbled backwards, and then again began walking forwards mouth hungry for flesh. David was in disbelief that the man was still walk; he was now 7ft away. David took aim again and fired off another round.
Bang!
The brains of the infected blew out the back of his head and the man dropped to the ground with a thud. David had put a well placed shot to the man’s skull and now stood there letting his mind catch up to what he was witnessing. But that didn’t last too long before footsteps of several people were coming from behind, he turned and looked.
“No way…” David whispered under his breath. There was a crowd of about 12 infected humans grasping out towards him all moaning. David took no chances and began shooting into the crowd while backing up, he tried to aim for the head, but several shots skewed off slightly above or below his target point. The clip ran dry and David could only see 4 laying dead, and even more infected came lurking out of the shadowy corners. He had no other option but to run, so he did. Surely his shots alerted them or something he concluded as he slammed in another clip. Left and right more and more infected came at David, when they came in reach David elbowed their arms away and continued to outrun them. From what he could see his path In front was clear and it was only a matter of time before he made it to the RCPD, or at least he hoped.
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Post by Lance Bishop on Jan 22, 2009 22:27:48 GMT -5
His years in the Green Berets taught him something rather valuable. It was called rational thinking under pressure. Their primary means of escape had been blocked off by a rather ****ed off herd of Crimson Heads. Lance watched as Kyle dumped nearly a full clip in to one of the creatures until it finally hit the floor, lifeless. Bishop cursed and snatched Kyle by the collar, pushing him towards the hole in the wall that they had come through. "Go! Go! Go! We need to get back to the lobby, go up the stairwell. The upper level rooms have to have some sort of fire escape, its our only option!" Bishop took a hop step backwards then flipped and dove through the hole.
The angry hisses and gurgling of the approaching Crimson Heads grew louder. The sharpshooter was in the small room in between the two hallways. He dashed over to the other wall where the entrance hole was and stepped through. He then turned around and hit a knee, placing his M21 on the broken ledge of the wall. The rifle was lined up directly with the opposite hole, awaiting for one of the creatures to pop it's ugly head out. A trained sniper at this range was deadly, it was going to be like shooting fish in a barrel. Lance saw that Claypoole was still in the room, planting something on the wall. "C'mon!" The sniper yelled. He heard the scraping of claws against the walls of the opposite hallway. "Just cover me!" The man yelled back.
Lance sighed and tightened his grip on the rifle. One of the creatures came to a halt in the hole and turned to face Bishop. The darkness made it hard to get a direct bead on the Crimson Head, but he saw the things bloodied skull like face. Crack! The M21 echoed loudly as it rocked back in his grip. The sniper squeezed back on the trigger sending a 7.62mm shell straight in to the face of the oncoming Crimson Head. The penetrating round fired from such a high powered rifle caused massive damage at such a close range. The creature's skull split, fragments of bone and fresh blood splattered across the wall behind it in a smear. Its body slammed up against the wall and slumped down.
That wasn't it though. They were coming in mass, but only one at a time could fit through the hole. Bishop squeezed back on the trigger; sending another shell in to the chest of the Crimson Head. It screamed out an angered cry and reared back to spew its toxic mist. Bishop planted a second round in to the Crimson Head's chin, tearing part of the jaw bone away. A third round met home in the zombie's right eye socket, splattering its companions lined up at its six with blood and rotted brain matter.
Lance heard the crackle of gunfire behind him and the loud thud of a body hitting the floor. Tyson and the other team member must have been engaging something to their six. Bishop hoped they had it under control because he couldn't afford to look away from the Crimson Heads. Claypoole was in the killzone and he had to be protected.
[[OOC: Tyson, you and Kyle are watching the lobby and the stairwell. Kill what you see fit.]]
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Post by thegunny on Jan 22, 2009 22:47:56 GMT -5
Claypoole growled behind his mask quietly, turning and sprinting down the hallway quickly as they realized all what they were against. A crimsonhead was a b*tch, 12 crimsonheads was WW3 for 4 people. He was running like a motherf**ker, a plan already formulating in his head as his head was half leaned down, one hand wielding the PPSH-41, supporting the rest of its weight by the commando gun sling he had attached to it. He held his helmet on by placing his hand on the back of his helmet, sliding to a stop as he turned and stepped through the hole. He turned to the left of the small room and quickly slapped up one of his bricks of C4 against the wall. He primed it and then he turned and slapped up another brick of C4 against the other wall, priming it as well. He still had another two bricks on his belt.. he was slightly happy he didn't bring claymores this time.
BISHOP! GET BACK!
Claypoole turns and starts to move backwards, stepping through the 2nd hole and then crouching as he turns around and covers the first hole. He starts to move back slowly, staring down straight through the doorway. He waited. Time slowed down as Claypoole gripped the detonator, waiting for the first ones to head towards him. They came through... one, two, three... they were stuffed like sardines in the opening as they raged their way inside. By the first time one got to the middle of the room, Claypoole pressed the detonator. The first one was three quarters of the way through by the time the C4 had exploded and the room collapsed in on itself, blocking the Crimsonheads off. Several seconds passed and the dust settled, and the front most crimsonheads arm and part of its head stuck out from beneath of it... Claypoole fired a quick burst of 4 high-velocity 7.62x25 tokarev rounds and confirmed that one dead.
FALL BACK! FIND AN EXIT HIGHER UP!
Claypoole turned and started to move, the group heading up a stairway from the lobby to go find a fireescape or window to get out through
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Post by Lance Bishop on Jan 22, 2009 23:01:37 GMT -5
Bishop lifted his M21 from his position and shoved it on his back. The tactical vest he was wearing had an integrated sheath custom fitted for his rifle. Lance made a mental note to switch out his box magazines later, he was running it close to empty. The sniper quickly withdrew his 1911 and flipped the LED back on.
The sharpshooter moved up the staircase. There was a silhouette at the end of the hallway, hunched over and swaying in it's position. Bishop's LED fell over the figure, its clothes were wore out and cover in splotches of black, probably old dried blood.
Lance ignored the lone zombie and moved to the right of the upper hallway, his body pressed up against the wall and handgun raised. The zombie let out a low moan and turned to face the crew of mercenaries. The undead creature was an open shot for whoever wanted it. Bishop squeezed back on the trigger, a .45 ACP round ripping through the zombie's knee cap. The stiff fell to a knee, a round from behind Bishop caught the creature in the head and knocked it over dead. "Good shot." Lance muttered behind him to whoever bagged the kill.
The sharpshooter moved in front of one of the doors. He glanced back and then raised a boot and kicked the door. The weakened hinges gave away to his strength and the door flew open. Immediately he snapped his 1911 to the supported firing position and scanned from the outside. The light cone on his LED darted through the dusty old apartment's living room. He listened closely for any stirring, but it seemed clear. "Lets go. Find the window with the fire escape.."
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Post by Jester on Jan 23, 2009 0:36:07 GMT -5
David had out run the perusing horde about 15 minutes ago and now was holding up in an abandoned general store. He wasted another clip while escaping; leaving him with 2 clips left hopefully it was enough for now. He could hear distant gun shots knowing there were others nearby, but then again that means there were more infected, not exactly where he wanted to be. David sat against the back wall keeping the exit door in the corner of his eye. He reached into his belt and opened his phone.
“Lindsey, you copy? This is David.” He called into the phone.
“I’m listening David, good to hear from you, how are you holding up?” Her young voice on the other line soothed David slightly.
“I’ve barricaded myself in what seems to be a general store; I’ve also encountered a horde of infected.”David told her.
“Are you all right? You haven’t come into contact with them have you?” Her voice seemed worried.
“No, I’m all right. I out ran them about 15 minutes ago, what can you tell me about the infected?” David asked.
“The infected? Well all right, from what we know they are carries of a virus known as the t-virus, it reanimates your dead cells and infects the entire body with it.” She explained.
“Sounds like a horror story, t-virus you say? What other kind of these virus’ are out there?” David was poorly informed on this mission.
“Well… The t-virus can infect almost about any living animal, we’ve also heard rumors about bio-weapons from umbrellas labs escaping to, were not so sure on those species yet. But just remember all of them are extremely dangerous.” Lindsay said.
“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m running through an alley way of dead humans.” David remarked.
“How close are you to your target location?” She asked.
David looked up making sure no one or thing was around and went back to his phone “I’m not sure, I’ve made good ground since the airport, id say about another 30 minutes on foot until my target location, unless I can find some wheels around here…”
“Well I’m here if you need me, get going I doubt you have much time to rest.” She exclaimed.
“Ya your right, thanks, David out.” He hung up the phone and checked his handgun. The only thing that seems to kill the infected hosts were gun shots to the head, he would definitely take note of that next time. David would rest a bit longer before heading out the back door into the streets again.
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Post by Nanaya on Jan 23, 2009 1:41:01 GMT -5
S***.
Already had Kyle emptied the remaining bullets from his MP7 and was madly unholstering his MEU(SOC). Some runners were coming from behind, but a hail of bullets from him and Tyson had put them down quickly before they managed to get within hazardous range. Zombies also started to appear from dark rooms and closets, all of them bearing bites marks, gashes, tears, and gouges on their bodies. Most of them were dressed in civilian garments while others were ex-RCPD. They too were dispatched with headshots—bodies left to crumple to the floor, twitching once before finally expiring.
Another one came into Kyle's range, and he took aim with the iron sights and fired—
BOOM!
A sudden shock wave rippled through the entire surroundings. Not too big to knock Kyle off his feet, but enough to be clearly noticeable. Dust and smoke also began filling the air from behind him, and Kyle turned around to see the exit blocked off by debris, all now recently blown apart from walls by explosives—no doubt Claypoole's.
"FALL BACK! FIND AN EXIT HIGHER UP!"
Kyle scanned the area in front of him once more—no hostiles were in sight—before following Claypoole and Bishop upstairs. A shot sounded out from Lance's pistol, and Kyle saw him cripple an incoming zombie before quickly taking off ahead and ignoring it. Kyle though he might as well kill it—makes no sense in keeping a dangerous thing alive when it's already felt a bullet.
A quick second to aim in between its eyes and a pull of the trigger resulted in its brains being splattered all over the hallway floor behind it. The creature fell over and Kyle continued to follow the others, keeping an eye on the back for any more runners.
By the time he caught up with the others, Bishop had just kicked down a door. The apartment's living room inside was clear—no infected. There were also windows leading down into the streets. There wasn't any noise coming from below, so most likely it was clear and not full of those bastards they just encountered.
"Lets go. Find the window with the fire escape . . . .," Bishop said.
A quick scan of the windows revealed a small fire escape just outside the second window on the left. Kyle cautiously approached it and quickly checked outside, both above and below for anything that might already be on the structure. Nothing was there, and the alleyway below was clear as well. Kyle gestured to the others before stepping over and through the window, keeping his sights trained on the surroundings with his .45 ACP MEU(SOC). He waited for the others to get on the fire escape.
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Post by thegunny on Jan 23, 2009 19:22:25 GMT -5
Bishop, Claypoole, and Tyson all began to exit out of the apartment complex through the fire exit following Kyle's lead, as orderly as possible. Claypoole watched their rears. It was both Claypooles unofficial aptitude and his standard leadership style: Lead from the front, lead by example, lead the fight by being in the fight. It was Claypooles unofficial aptitude because, as demonstrated... he always had things that could be used to impede the enemy or deny an area to the enemy. He could blow up bridges or rooms, he could place booby traps and mines, he could pin them down with automatic suppressive fire, he could create a wall of flames with his incendiary grenades to slow down or wipe out the infantry. He could act as a forward observer for air support or artillery fire in a pinch. So it seemed to be natural for Claypoole to watch the rear...
Bishop went out, and then Tyson was about to. It was looking to be clear so far, and it looked like the C4 did its job. As Tyson started to step out...
there was a loud bang as a lot of weight and muscle was thrown against it, the door starting to swing off its hinges, but barely. Claypoole immediately saw what was on the other side since he had already trained his PPSH-41 on the door and was watching in case anything came out. He cursed himself as he saw a crimson head for not having barricaded the door, it was supposed to have been a quick exit. Claypoole squeezed the trigger and let the high velocity 7.62x25 Tokarev rounds pepper the crimsonhead as it stepped through the now open doorway and charged towards Claypoole. Tyson opened fire and the combined fire of the two dropped the crimson head.
D**nit! Tyson! The door!
Tyson and him both worked as one with a near telepathic level of cooperation as they shut the door again and shoved a couch up against it, then dropped the coffee table there as well. The door was now shut, and barricaded, so they had again denied the crimson heads to the best of their ability the option of following them, at least directly.
Lets move!
Tyson and Claypoole got up and out of the apartment and into the fire exit from there without a hitch...
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Post by Mikey on Jan 25, 2009 0:39:38 GMT -5
(Thanks for keeping me along guys.)
Tyson stepped out the window onto the fire escape, and as an afterthought closed the window. He rolled his eyes at himself, knowing that if anything got through the door they barricaded shut, a pane of plate glass wouldnt stop them either.
Taking the stairs two at a time, his massive stamina reserve being tested as he cleared the cases in seconds each. The clanking of both himself and his boots on the metal stairs sounded in his ears, and soon subsided as he got to the roof. Out of reflex alone, he scanned the area with his rifle, but saw it was clear.
Seeing that the group was here, he cracked his neck and flipped his mask up. Letting out a breath and wiping some sweat from his brow, he looked at Claypoole. He was in charge until they got back in touch with Aya.
"So...whats the plan? Are we still going to the gun shop, or are we saying fu*k it all and getting to the radio station?" He asked.
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Post by Nanaya on Jan 25, 2009 1:49:30 GMT -5
The sweet sound of a fresh clip being slapped into place was music to Kyle's ears, but deep down, he knew that the number of mags had left had just dropped down to four, meaning he only has 28 extra round—plus the seven now loaded in the pistol. Kyle would definitely not mind hitting the nearest gun shop and scavenge for some weapons; he would certainly a new one.
Tucking in the empty clip into one of his pouches, Kyle kept moving down the metal stairs and kept alert. Every now and then, he would pass by a window with a figure or two viewable through its transparent structure. The beings were clearly infected—shuffling and groaning were the only actions they displayed. It saddened Kyle—somewhat; these creatures use to be people, all with goals, hopes, dreams, family, friends . . . but now . . . they're empty shells of their former selves, wandering mindlessly in buildings and streets, doing the virus' bidding and attempting to destroy all life on the planet.
Still, there was nothing that could be done for these "people." The only thing that would help them is a single bullet to the forehead—something Kyle would do with no qualms if it were not that he was low on ammo and that he and his team needed to be quiet. That only made Kyle more depressed inside: not even being able to put these victims out of their suffering.
By the time Kyle was done thinking to himself, he'd reached the bottom of the fire escape, and on its side was a fire escape. Oddly, it was already unfolded—the bottom of the structure was barely touching the alleyway's ground below. With an initial scan—and everything was clear—Kyle holstered his pistol and climbed over the railing onto the ladder, before proceding to slide down its rails and touch down on the cold, wet cement below.
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Post by Metal Head on Jan 25, 2009 2:38:19 GMT -5
When I heard Emily shout out in panic behind me, I instantly spun around, M4 shouldered at took aim at the female survivor we’d picked up earlier. Her grip around the other survivor was fierce, but I didn’t have a clear shot since she held the man in front of her, towards myself. Emily managed to get off a couple shots however, and when the women dropped Jimmy, I kept my ground and watched as Emily easily dropped the female with a barrage of rounds.
“I think we should get rid of this one, she’s proving to be a severe problem,” I spoke in a low growl as I closed the distance from the front of the tram to the downed women. Her husband sobbed over her, though I’d seen things like this hundreds of times in the past and it didn’t really effect me as much as it had used to.
“As for turning around,” Staring out the back of the tram, I saw a mass of zombies, and heard heavy automatic fire from the area. It was definitely a no go.
“It’s too hot up there to go back, if we do what’ll happen if we get caught in a jam? We’ve got two wounded, and only three shooters. That’s not enough to keep us alive. The other team has four team members, so I’m sure they’ll make it here. It also doesn’t seem like there’s very many infected around here,”
The situation had deteriorated far more than I, or anyone else for that matter would have thought. Then again, missions in outbreak zones always were unbelievably dangerous, and things always seemed to go wrong.
“We should update Claypoole and the second team. Try to get them on the horn if you can,” Turning back to the front of the tram, I took a knee at the front window which had been blown out during the fighting. Taking aim at a few stragglers down the road, I popped off a few rounds and dropped a few undead, unsure of what else to do at the moment.
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Post by Jester on Jan 25, 2009 22:23:16 GMT -5
Enough time had been spent resting and it was time for David to get moving again. He had no idea whether or not Dr. Reynolds was even still alive or even in the RCRP, it’s been several weeks sense he stopped sending transmission so his whereabouts were up for grabs. Although this much was true, he was still in Raccoon City the military monitors who comes in and out and he for certain wasn’t out. David wondered if he would run into in these streets as a zombie, these thoughts got David nowhere.
David checked his .45 USP and grabbed his flashlight in his other hand; he trained his weapon up and aimed for the general store back door. With a hard kick the door swung open and David ran out checking both ways and went down the alleys to what he thought to be the way to the RCPD. Down the thin path carries wandered dumbfounded, and David had to put them down by blowing out there brains. The infected themselves weren’t much of a threat if you knew how to deal with them, that and there weren’t hordes of them chasing you. Feeling more confident about himself David rushed along his way until he hit a dead end. He stopped in front of a blockade of burning cars and wreckage.
The only way around was to turn around and look for an alternate route, but that might take awhile. David paused and searched wildly for another way and spotted a fire escape ladder that would permit him to one of the apartment roof and over the wreckage, he started towards the ladder. As he reached it a window behind him shattered and a carrier dove out for David, the zombie grabbed David by the shoulders and attempted to gnarl off his neck. David let out a grunt and resisted pushing away the foul monster. The rotting and disgusting smell washed over David as he kept the infected at bay. He finally got the upper hand and pushed away the zombie with his foot, David took the chance to take the zombie to the ground and spin kicked the zombie in the face. There was a crack sound and he knew the carries jaw bone was broken or dislocated. The infected spun to the ground, slowly beginning to get back up, but David took an easy aim and placed to bullets in the zombie’s skull, a thick puddle of blood spilled beneath the zombie’s corpse on the ground. Collecting himself quickly David rushed up the ladder already hearing more footsteps tracking him down. He reached the top of the roof.
That close call could have meant David’s life; he knew to be more aware next time. David popped out his clip and counted 6 more rounds in the clip, and he only had one more clip in his belt. Ammo was beginning to become a problem and he would need to conserve what he had left. David sat on the roof and let his adrenaline slow down, he walked over to the edge of the roof and saw the RCPD in sight, and that he had a path down to the street that would take him there. But along the street were of course the groaning undead, several of them mostly cops. David was ready and made his way down to the street. He dodged left and right as dead hands reached out for him. David had to push and punch back a few of them, but didn’t waste any ammo. His training in hand to hand combat began extremely effective against the zombies; they were slow and very predictable. David finally used his weapon on 2 cops lingering around the RCPD door, David had enough time to check there bodies and found they both carried a clip for their standard issue 9mm handguns, David couldn’t use them but took them none the less just in case he ran across a suitable 9mm. David took a deep breath and entered the RCRP.
(David has exited the Streets)
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Post by Reaper on Jan 26, 2009 9:10:24 GMT -5
Alex's eyes shifted back to their dull gray look. She looked up at Jimmy as he held her. Tears streaming down her cheeks, her body screamed out in pain. She had managed to move her arms as she wrapped them around him. Her hands gripping his shirt tightly. She buried her face into his chest as she cried silently. She was scared to death of hurting him, but she didn't want to him to leave her. For so long she had lived with the fear that she had killed him. Now to find out he was still alive. She would have to live with the fact that she had killed their son, but Jimmy had forgiven her for that.
She broke away from him momentarily to look at him with a weak smile. She pulled her feet up slightly almost in attempt to curl into a ball. She rested her head against Jimmy's chest as she just laid their in his arms. She had felt so secure in his arm, and he almost made her feel like the world never existed. She had missed his warmth for five years. She had even almost forgotten how he smelled. Alex coughed slightly as she closed her eyes, and just laid there contempt in his arms. Fighting back the pain of her body, and the new onset of pain that had been caused.
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Post by thegunny on Jan 28, 2009 19:57:01 GMT -5
Follow, Kyle... lets get in that gunshop and load up.
The team got down street level from the fire escape, and noticeably received no problems from any crimson heads. As the 4 man team dashed across the street to the apparently unlocked and "open for business" gun shop, they opened the door and slipped in. The reason it was unlocked soon became clear. Several dead zombies could be seen on the floor ahead of them, and further ahead was blood splattered all over the front counter. Shotgun shell casings were also visible. A shotgun was on the ground forgotten behind the counter, bloodied and battered obviously having been used as a club at one point. Claypoole again used the signal for "Suppressor up", then added new signals to the mix; he pointed towards the jarred open door to the Gunshop back rooms, then made his demands clear; clear that fing back room. He pointed at Kyle(who had answered his suppressor up call before) and then Bishop to back him up silently with his knife. Claypoole then with slightly clear hand gestures that Tyson was to watch the street. Then Claypoole began to take stock of the front room, waiting for the back rooms to be cleared before they saw what they had available back there. He checked for both ammunition and possible firearms they could "Borrow"... he also found the keys to a pickup truck at the front counter.
He imagined they could find plenty of ammunition or plenty of replacements for their weapons to get them through the mission, and he imagined they could find the tools to screw with their guns and convert their calibers in order to finish the mission if needed. He also figured they'd find all they needed to make some I.E.D's and crude hand grenades to help them through the rest of the mission as well. Not to mention they SHOULD get a well deserved rest for a bit... or at least, a well deserved period of less work.
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Post by Mikey on Jan 29, 2009 7:20:04 GMT -5
Tyson nodded silently at Claypoole's order to stay in front and keep a look out. He made a sweep of the streets through the window and looked for anything that noticed them. If he was looking for targets, he exaust the rest of his ammo taking them out.
Speaking of which, he took this time to check his situation ammo wise. He knew for a fact that he was on his last 6.5 drum. He usually ran out of ammo frequently, but that was in a war zone, fighting other enemies often times with modern military weaponry. On more occasions than he could count, he had often been able to cherry pick 6.5 rounds for his own weapon off dead enemies or from weapon cache's. Not here though, he was 99 percent positive.
His other weapons, the Masterkey that saw almost zero use as a door breaching shotgun and more use as a weapon to turn the infrequent enemy who got too close into fertilizer, had seen no use in this outing. But, if he was planning on taking a shotgun, he was going to need more than the thirty shells he had right now. He figured a 50 shell bandoleir or two would be good, and with all the weight his normal 6.5 rounds took up, they wouldnt be a problem to handle. His sidearm, the Desert Eagle chambered for .44 rounds, would be easy to find ammo for. As common as it was for self defense for hunters, or even for hunting in some cases, there would probably be a few hundred lying around. He planned on filling his 15 round magazines and taking a few boxes in his buttpack. For good measure.
While he was thinking about it, he reached into a small pocket on his chest and slid out a small cylinder. Screwing the surpressor onto the end of his AR 15's barrel, he shouldered the weapon again and kept his eyes down the sights. Not sure of what he would do if a zombie noticed them, not wanting to shoot through the glass and destroy their cover, he figured if it came to that he'd yell it out and tell them all to haul a*s with the guns before opening fire and taking refuge on the second floor.
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Post by Costa 2.0 on Jan 29, 2009 17:07:49 GMT -5
(Can someone exaplin where my group is?)
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