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Post by thegunny on Jul 22, 2009 21:56:02 GMT -5
OOC: Earl is inactive for a little bit, so this probably wasn't the best route to go... I'll try and work this out though. Try and snake around to the back of the building where the fight is independent of Earl and his snipers
Several hostile survivors who had been camped out with the sniper started to come towards Brian from behind with a .300 WM bolt action, Remington 7615P pump action rifle, and RPD Patrol rifle AR-15. The man with the AR-15 peeked around the corner of the cafe that was between the two groups, and started firing at Brian. The man with the mosin nagat disappeared, heading off somewhere behind the cafe, while the other man with the Remington 7615P hung back behind a car two buildings down and firing at him.
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xxthearcang31xx
Zombie Hunter
You know who I am, what I am, and why I'm here, I'm freakin' DEATH!
Posts: 108
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Post by xxthearcang31xx on Aug 6, 2009 3:52:34 GMT -5
[Cody Matthews arriving]
Upon entering the area Matthews noticed a few things, for one there were no zombies, which was odd because it had been a pain in the ass to get here because there were zombies everywhere. Secondly, there was a distinct smell of gasoline in the air in places, meaning to watch gunfire and anything that may trigger a spark, lest he become a deep-fried treat for the zombies that would eventually return. And thirdly, he heard gunfire nearby, not just like a couple people holding off undead terrors, but more like a gang fight. 'Woah, let's not go there, bad memories man, bad memories... Still, better keep my head down or else I might lose it.
Quietly drawing his Colt .45 Matthews surveyed the scene thinking that he's try and reason with the victors of this conflict, you know unless they looked like the kind of gang that shoots first and doesn't give a damn about asking questions later, in which case he'd make the call whether or not to engage the remaining survivors, or simply just sneak away, for now he kept his distance and his silence in the bad of a white pickup that had clearly seen better days a few hundred yards of the shooting...
Yet after seeing that the fighting was not slowing or showing any signs of either side faltering, Matthews decides to pick-up and leave, heading to the subway station not far from here. [Matthews leaves the gas station for the Central subway]
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Apr 2, 2010 5:40:28 GMT -5
)(Thomas, Isaac, and Ashleigh have all entered after a 2 hour drive from the Circle River.)(
"Nooo, I want the orange one..." Ashleigh spoke in her sleep. She'd been doing so for the last quarter of the trip, most of what she said revolved around what she liked and disliked; effectively she dreamt about falling off a cliff for a game show and being tasked with gathering everything she liked or wanted before hitting the ground. The ground itself lit up bright for some reason resulting in the rousing of Ashleigh from her snooze.
The culprit had been a street light which they'd passed by slowly shining straight through the window an smacking its fists against Ashleigh’s eye lids. The Muse blinked it off, one hand coming up to rub her eyes pulling sleep from their corners. A long, dragging sniff as she stretched before yawning, "Man..." passed another street light, "Power's still on..." she sat up peering between the front seats and out the windshield. Rows of people all walked towards and past Metal Wave, a quick look out the back window showed they continued on behind them as well. Puzzled expression on Ash's face; Isaac seemed to catch on that she was awake.
"It's The Path. Safest way out of Raccoon, quickest way in too. Military snapped it up to get survivors out; this is the last group before nightfall. MP's weren't too fussed with letting us in after I asked'em,"
It hadn't entirely registered that it was in fact late afternoon now, another glance out the window showed pink and orange clouds. Ash always felt bizarre waking up at times like that, it was completely unnatural for her body clock; another yawn indicated this. Her peripheral picked up a street sign, 'Hale Rd', "Mnngh," she started with to regain her vocal volume and pointed out from the back seat for Thomas to see, "Turn left here. There's a petrol station at the end of this suburb near Prague. It's probably sucked dry by now, but there's two Truckie tanks out the back were all the vans and semi-trailers pull in. It's under the ground, completely unnoticed," Ash remembered perfectly having filled up there before leaving Raccoon the last time.
Crowds of survivors thinned quickly before disappearing altogether as the Camaro rumbled into the more quiet areas of the city. New Prague had been hit the least after everyone had just pushed up North bound after hearing about the outbreak occurring. Ash liked this; each time she ended up in Raccoon she picked a different mansion from the more affluent suburbs to stay at; the owners were likely annoyed they couldn't bring their houses with them. Moreover being the richer district the shops were much better stocked and untouched; the thought of living there for a couple of months had crossed Ashleigh's mind, but typically home bound obligations got in the way.
Metal Wave rolled in to the gas station coming up beside one of the pumps. Isaac was quick to get out and push the seat up for her, a distinct breeze of relief coming from Metal Wave, "...Me too," Ash retorted pulling herself free. Another big stretch, reaching for the sky, and breathing in deep; the Gunslinger let out a sound of content nostalgia; the scent of burning, blood, and decayed flesh filling her nostrils. The station was your typical shop, pumps, eight foot high wooden plank fence around three faces of the property and enough space for utility vehicles to get around the back. Ash left Thomas to tend to Metal Wave; Isaac seemed to be doing a standard perimetre check and had picked a spot out front watching all of the adjacent buildings.
Inside; the shop stop wasn't as bad as could be imagined, granted all of the 'survival' items had been picked clean... Ashleigh smacked herself on the forehead and left her palm there for a moment or two, hand on hip and looking down at the ground - she'd put the food from the CRC's fire station in Pearl, it was probably overcooked by now. No point sulking about it. She made a quick sweep of the aisles for carriers, stumbled over to the sales desk and peeked over. Nothing. There was no sign of struggle at all. None of which concerned Ash when her gaze fell upon the cash register; a glance of reassurance over her shoulder before leaning over and hitting the return key forcing the till open. She yanked all of the large bills free, rolled them up and tucked them in her cargo pocket before slamming the till shut. Score.
Ash wandered down each aisle looking at all of the contents for sale, she figured it would do good to get some good for herself and everyone else; there wasn't a hell of a lot though. She'd picked up a little switch knife in the process which would do for a half decent replacement for her katana, the size suited her more as well; Ash had opted to go without on this trip dimply due to how often her blade got in the way. Strolling down canned food lane, most of all had gone except for a select few yellow label items. Ash kept the can of spaghetti for herself, grabbed another 5 tinnies for Thomas and Isaac unknowing as to what they were. The only light relevant in the shop was coming from the row of fridges, she tested the door to one and mist spilled out; a little condensation dripped here and there, the temperature was likely lowered a little. Ash grabbed the last bottle of V at the back, unknowing as to what the others would prefer she decided to leave it to Thomas' water in MW. Most of the other crap would have likely OD'd by now anyway.
Ashleigh had almost made to the door when she convulsed, all of the contents in her arms dropped to the floor. She stood frozen on the spot paralyzed by the nauseating feeling; left hand to stomach, right hand to mouth. The second convulsion made her move in the direction of the restrooms punching her way through the swinging door and over one of the three sinks; a dim light shone but it was enough to let her see; and now at the bleached bowel she reeled. The nausea blurred her eyes which she held closed most of the time, simply feeling the boiling acids spewing up her throat and out her mouth. Two major vomits, one smaller to cap it off. Ashleigh spat once to clear her lips. Control returned to her after a moment, she hastily pulled a black ribbon from her pocket and tied her hair up loosely; several locks falling for her fringe.
A mortified face stared back at itself in the mirror, vision with a dark red gradient around the outside. She looked down at the contents in the sink, red of all shades mixed with brown chunks... a sting came from her stomach and she groaned, holding the location of the pain while leaning against the sink. Ash started counting, from no particular number, and went up in tens. Around 147 everything subsided, her stomach ache drifted away and her head stopped swimming. Looking at the mirror once more; the red outline had left her vision. She slurped a cupped handful of water from the tap, gargled and spat it back out wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, 'You knew this would happen, now you have to put up with it...' a couple of tugs of the paper towel dispenser and Ash wiped her jacket were residue had landed, 'Just keep sh*t tight. Deal with it when it gets here,' but with that exact thought she knew she was fooling herself, it already was here; sitting right on top of her.
Paper flung to the waste basket; Ash ran the tap heavy to wash away all of her vomit, cleaned her hands, pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and left the restroom. A noticeable amount of nervous could be sensed, she calmed herself and breathed deeply returning to pick up all of the items of interest from before and stepped out of the shop.
"Here y'all go," she drawled putting the cans down on top of one of the pump benches, "They have keys, so you just have to tug it back," she added, knowing can openers weren't often on peoples checklists... they were never on hers. Ash hopped up onto an empty barrel near the pumps, most likely used to keep cars in correct positions for easy movement, and tore into the spag cracking open the bottle of V second.
Willing to forget about what had just happened; or more, forcefully pushing it from her mind; Ash checked the damage on the back of Metal Wave. Munching on a dugout spoon full of food, she realized she hadn't noticed this before, "Your car's pretty beat up at the back there," she wanted to offer some support to the guy who had been lugging her most of the place in his own car, moreover the person who'd help her find her sister, "I could help fix that up, got a shop in Vegas which I could get her looking better than new at..." she sold it a little, much the same to everyone else she talked to about The Shop back in LV. Slurped up a loose noodle, "S'up to you. Just thinking of a way to pay you back... does she have a name?" some attempt to get small talk in the way and push other abnormalities out of mind.
Before Thomas could get a word in though, Isaac approached the two; scratching the back of his neck. Without much notice between Ash or Thom, Isaac had been paying special attention to the Military Police shepherding survivors out of the city.
"I was thinking, as much as I'm traveling about with you two, I'd probably do better off helping the army guys in this AO. I might even be able to get a line on my executive and find out where my mission stands,"
The Soldier shuffled slightly, index finger over the receiver of his rifle. It was clear he was itching to be put to good use, and now that he was in Raccoon he could follow through with what he wanted.
"So long as you guys don't mind..."
Ash held up her fist, a pause in confusion from Isaac who eventually bumped it with his own in kind, "It was nice meeting you Jarhead. It's a small world anyway. We might run into each other again some time," she tossed him a tinny of food, "One for the road," Isaac and Thomas made their goodbyes and the Soldier walked out from the gas station, up the road to the checkpoint they had entered through. A certain weight lifted off Ashleigh's shoulders, being a person of crime herself it felt liberating to get such a do-gooder off her back; she was convinced that she would run into Isaac again though.
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Post by RabidMaggot93 on Apr 2, 2010 9:47:49 GMT -5
((Ambrose has entered))
It had been a long trip here.
Ambrose had steadily but surely made his way back down the mountain side, feeding on stray animals and occasionaly other infected to keep his strength. He'd been following the thick scent of the females infection - he was able to pick it out almost perfectly - down to this small exit from the city where there where alot of survivors.
He lay silently in the ruins of a building not far from the gas-station, out of sight of the soldiers but so he could see the humans without them seeing him. He wanted to finish the job, or die trying. With a soft rumble, Ambrose waited.
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Post by Kan on May 22, 2010 18:22:43 GMT -5
(Amn Jake Threatt enters)
Having lost sight of the young girl he had met earlier Jake had decided to heard towards the transportation hub in an effort to link up with a military unit.
Still having no luck with finding any military patrols Jake walks with a purpose towards the gas station nearby, carefully avoiding any standard zombies, according to his training. He had encountered a licker a few hours ago, having to run away and lose the mutant.
Jake sighs quietly, still not finding any kind of firearm during the day, stuck with his knife, his uniform, and a cell phone with no reception. Cautiously he walks to the back door of the building, its door ripped of it's hinges, hopefully by something that was long gone by now. He flicks his knife open and kneels down to grab a small rock. He tosses it inside, creating just enough noise to rouse any zombies inside, but not give away his position.
Hearing nothing he steps inside, his knife at the ready as he was taught in basic, the lighting of the emergency lights creating an eerie setting. He hears hushed conversation in the front and heads towards it with light steps.
A small group of survivors would be picking through what was left inside the station, gruff and angrily pondering around, one looks to another, "There ain't s**t in here Jim" he says in a hushed tone. The other begins to say something back but is stopped by a light noise "Hey you hear that, go check it out". The other man walks towards the back, and straight into the young airman.
Jake is at first elated to find more survivors, but that is quickly changed as tries to talk to man, his words stopped before he could even say them. "Hey Jim! We got us a live one" he yells out, raising a bat up "Military!" he shouts as he notices Jake's uniform. "Lets see what we can get off your corpse soldier boy" he growls as he raises his bat to strike, Jake moves fast, he may not have the kind of hand to hand training that marines or soldiers have, but he knew how to defend himself, he ducks under the swing and brings his leg across horizontally, his steel toed boot slamming into the mans left leg. Jake hears bone breaking as the man stumbles, swinging his bat in a wild attack at the airman and shouting in pain.
The bat barely misses the airman, having to jump away from his own knife attack, he turns to bail out of the building, having been taught to avoid conflicts with survivors, however he runs straight into another man armed with a beefy revolver leveled at his head.
"S**t"
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Post by Scorpio on May 22, 2010 19:12:22 GMT -5
ooc: Nightshade enters
Ethan stumbled through the back streets clutching his side. The adrenaline rush from the fight on the waterfront had worn off some time back and he was focused almost entirely on the grazing wound, possibly from shrapnel going past him during the explosion. Luckily none of his equipment or his cloak was damaged. For now he tried to keep his breathing steady and make it to somewhere safe to patch up and rest. A flickering light in a gas station ahead had caught his attention. Better place than any.
As he drew closer he caught sight of some kind of scuffle, a man in some kind of military camo was fighting off a civilian wielding what looked like a baseball bat. The military man got the advantage quickly, taking out a leg and starting a retreat, unfortunatly a second man had gotten the drop on him with a gun. Ethan sped up his approach during the events, not intending to ignore what could end up a mugging or lynching.
"Slow down tough guy." He growled. "Let's see how you like a more even fight."
With a flick of his arm his cloak shot out, wrapping around the revolver barrel. A tug yanked it from the thugs hand before he could fully comprehend the situation. Ethan caught the gun and waved it tauntingly. He stood in a slight hunch to keep the pressure on his wound, slowing the blood flow whilst keeping both hands ready for combat.
"Damn, first a soldier boy now this freak? Go get my gun."
Jim directed a second man, who lunged forward with a broken bottle as his weapon. Ethan swept his cloak to block his view before catching his wrists. The gun was thrown aside spinning across the floor during the grapple and the bottle was dropped after a swift headbutt stunned the attacker. Ethan lifted the man whilst turning, hurling him through the glass of a frozen drinks cabinet.
"The name is Nightshade. Not freako." Ethan gritted his teeth. He'd better wrap up fast and tend to his wounds. "Anyone else want to be a tough guy and try to take me on?"
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Post by Kan on May 22, 2010 19:41:28 GMT -5
Stunned by the appearance of this 'Nightshade' character Jake stands still for a moment before another man comes from behind the bat weilding man. He quickly dashes at him and delivers a kick straight to the gut, the man falls down in pain, with internal damage from the steel toes.
The man stays down groaning in pain, the large knife he was holding falling onto the floor. Seeing the fallen revolver Jake rushes at it as Jim does as well. The airman shoulder shoves Jim away from the gun and he picks it up, leveling it in a training firing stance. He fires a round next to the ground by Jim and shouts out, "The next shots will be in you and your boys! Get your wounded and leave now!" beforeing shooting another man that was comiing up behind Nightshade in the leg.
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Post by Scorpio on May 23, 2010 14:01:31 GMT -5
The group, with some of their members wounded and most relieved of their weapons, decided to cut their loses and retreat before Jake put the only gun to further useage. The more cowardly members scattered off alone whilst the rest helped the wounded and left as a group. Nightshade waited until they were out of sight and earshot before he moved over to the counter. Scattering the contents of his medical pack out and lifting his shirt to check the wound.
"You got good moves. You one of those military outfits working this city? Got a squad anywhere?"
He winced as he cleaned out the wound, the antiseptic stinging a good bit more since he'd left it untreated. Next he got to bandaging it then popped a few painkiller pills before slumping against the wall.
"Sorry, I'm being rude, thanks for the backup. I didn't get your name?"
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Post by Kan on May 23, 2010 19:23:47 GMT -5
The young airman eyes the man, looking him over, it was obvious he was injured. "I don't think you should be thanking me for the back up, I would have been done for without your help"
He walks over to the man, the revolver's barrel now sticking through the back of his belt, and raises his had for a handshake, "My name is Airman Jake Threatt, and no I am not with any of the units in the city, I was on leave when this happened."
He looks him over again, "Whats your story? and You need any help?"
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Post by Scorpio on May 24, 2010 13:25:14 GMT -5
"Well, you helped me, I helped you. Evens out I guess." He chuckled.
The stinging was easing off and Ethan stood up, pulling his cloak back over and gathering all his medical supplies before clipping the box back onto his belt. Afterwards he started looking around the station for anything useful. The shelves had been picked clean some time back of any food, medicine or ammo, however the previous group had dropped a few of their weapons. A butterfly knife and the baseball bat still in good condition. Ethan placed them on the counter in case Jake wanted to take his pick first, best to let him find something he could use first rather than stick him with a hand down that he didn't have a chance of fighting with.
"I'm fine and the name is.." He caught himself. "Nightshade will do for now, story is kinda boring. What do you say we stick together for a while? At least until you get were you need to go."
He offered a handshake to the airman, he had some potential and there was no point brushing him off and burning more bridges.
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Post by Kan on May 25, 2010 21:10:56 GMT -5
Jake firmly shook the man's hand, "If we stick together long enough I'm gonna have to get that story from you, maybe even over a drink huh?" He says slightly grinning, it was good to have finally run into someone that was a good person. He looks at the small weapons on the counter and shakes his head.
"I think I'd rather stick with my knife and this here revolver, figure ammo shouldn't be to hard to find, at least i hope" he says calmly. "To be honest though I don't know where I need to go, my standing orders are to link up with the first living military unit i come across, and I haven't had much luck." He looks away with a slight dissapointed look. "However I know that there is power in numbers, as we ended up displaying a few moments ago, so yeh lets stick together for now."
Jake looks around the gas station, "It might be a good idea to ditch this place just in case that gang decides to come back with more people, agreed?"
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Post by Scorpio on May 26, 2010 15:29:31 GMT -5
"Yeah, I'm fine with what I got as well, maybe the next people over will find better use for these."
Ethan stashed away the bat and knife under the counter on the off chance that any other survivors would find them and be able to protect themselves from any other hostiles or mutants following them. Agreeing with Jake about moving on he checked his bandages one last time and pulled his hood over again, moving out of the building to start searching for other survivors.
(Jake Threatt and Ethan Payne move to the streets)
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Post by .name//Technomancer on Jun 5, 2010 19:12:44 GMT -5
"No, man, all I'm sayin' is that thing's too unwieldy for me. I can't be expecte---"
"It's not unwieldy, 'man'," /./Issac interrupted Thomas, no lack of cynicism or sarcasm woven into his words,/./ "You simply don't know how to handle it."
/./Thomas restarted his last sentence, ignoring the constant interruptions from his temporary co-pilot. It wasn't so much the attempt to sell Issac on the use of melee weaponry, but the defense of single-handed firearms, and his lack of one therein././ "I can't be expected to lay Gungnir down, slide the damn thing around from my back, aim, fire, and proceed to fetch my spear every single time I need a well-placed lead sandwich. Plus, like I tell every survivor who questions the justification and length of my reach, blades have infinite ammo."
/./The infinite ammo bit irked Issac. The Marine was quickly becoming annoyed with Thomas, in that he's missing an obvious point././ "All I'm trying to say is that your 'useless' shotgun is far more useful than some metal stick with a knife at the end. Yes, you will be required to carry it's weight in ammo to make up for your lack of accuracy, but you're not within biting distance of your enemy when you're preparing an attack."
"We're fighting zombies. A good stab in the eye, neck, or slashing the leg off makes for a dead or much slower adversary. When you can---"
"Nooo, I want the orange one..." /./Ashleigh murmured in her sleep. Both men stopped bickering the moment after. As pressing as the issue at hand was, it warranted not the stirring of the sleeping Muse in the backseat. An amazing feat, Ash accomplished; she's far more than capable of sleeping through the roar of a 350 TPi Chevy Big Block, and yet, an exchange of opposing opinions seems to kick her closer to the waking world. More often than not, as Thomas had learned over the last few hours, she'll speak lulzy gibberish for a little while, then fall back to REM. This occasions was an exception. Streetlights finished awakening her, grumbles emitting from the rear-seat. She woke from what would have surely seemed like a well-deserved rest././
"Man... Power's still on..."
"It's The Path. Safest way out of Raccoon, quickest way in too. Military snapped it up to get survivors out; this is the last group before nightfall. MP's weren't too fussed with letting us in after I asked'em," /./Issac explained. There too, Thomas' ridicule at the hands of Issac had been made. The outpost they passed through questioned Thomas' intellect as well, both at the sheer volume of his IROC, and his use of the spear. The only comment Thomas could retaliate with revolved around his preference at playing on Expert mode, using every wrong piece of equipment he could find, unlike "you buncha pansies with your f**kin' tanks and superior numbers and s***,". Why was it so hard for people to understand?
Stop signs and traffic lights were blown right through, no traffic laws to enforce with even less police to worry about. Even so, the pace was kept at a meager sixty. No need to speed. A lithe hand pointed out from the backseat, followed by instructions spoken over the rumble of Metal Wave. Even under the running conditions, Thomas was surprisingly alert. Tired, yes, but not exhausted. A nap would have to come around soon. Thomas took the directions to use, continuing through the eerily abandoned streets. Blood spatter here and there, refuse and waste littering the streets more than the usual corpses. A notable lack of Zacks was both welcome and unassuring. The possibility of missing one or two was always in the deck.
With no potential customers to fret over, Thomas simply pulled near one of the hopefully full pumps, and backed Metal Wave up next to it. He could fill all of his expended fuel canisters and his tank this way. He flipped through the few paces in putting Metal Wave to sleep. He kissed her steering wheel, calling her a wonderful marvel of American ingenuity, a good girl, among other slightly more unsettling and sexually explicit names. He gripped her key, preparing to shut her down, only as Ash stumbled out onto solid ground once more. A loud purr in the form of idling at high revs for a few seconds exclaimed her thankfulness in Ash' departure. A puzzled face did Thomas wear. He stared off into space momentarily, his eyes losing themselves in Metal Wave's gauge cluster. He patted her dash, whispering a most truthful and assuring statement././
"Babe, she's way too thin for me."
/./He shut her down, giving her a well deserved rest. She surrendered her key with unusual ease. More often than not, she tries to keep Thomas around as long as possible, fighting to give up at all. In his mind's eye, he saw Metal Wave smile with glee, in knowing she was the only one for Thomas. He rubbed her steering wheel with a little grin, whispering to the sleeping Camaro of the things he needed to do before he would be back. They wouldn't stay long for it, but she was seriously fried from the trip. She was running a mite hot, which Thomas could only deduce would come from having hit one of the Zacks back in the CRC, cracking his coolant reserve or radiator. Or both. A worrying though. He began the maintenance with popping her hood and gas cover at the same time, circling his beloved with an eye for damage, cosmetic and otherwise. Pressure looked good, she wasn't too out of alignment, missing an eye. Scuffs, bumps, scrapes, and dents were all fixable. Finding numbers matching parts wasn't. Now was a good a time as any to finally get around to modding the deserving vehicle. He finally got around to start filling her tank, focusing on this first, then filling the smaller fuel cells. Praise Gaea, they had Premium left. Nothing else touched her injectors. While the main tank was filling, he jogged 'round her driver side, and lifted the popped hood. Serious heat radiated from her block. The radiator looked fine, but it was bone dry. He definitely had a coolant leak. A closer inspection showed an even worse problem. The coolant pump was loose. The vacuum pump was in rough shape too. He could only hope she'd hold out for a while longer. Finding gaskets for anything during a Zack Attack would prove difficult if not impossible. Finding a coolant lead, gasket, and pump for an '87 IROC-Z RS wasn't going to be fun. At all. Other problems persisted. He knew he hadn't changed out his injectors or spark plugs in almost a year, coming a few weeks ahead. She could use an oil change, being almost at the 1,500 mile mark. A few smaller issues, but the rest minor. The pump he figured would still work, but he'd have to practically keep her coolant on an IV to keep her cool. The only place he could think to look was inside.
He left Issac to patrol, and protect his love, seeking coolant inside. True, the survival items had been all but pilfered. People seldom add engine coolant and fuel injector cleaner to their list of necessities. He grabbed far more than needed, six gallons of coolant. A few small vials of injector cleaner rattled in his pockets. He left all else to the other survivors. He had everything he needed. He didn't see Ash inside, but knew the girl well enough to know she could take care of herself. He loaded eight of the juggs in Metal Wave, and threw the other two in her ress. When he turned her over to leave the station, it would cycle through. He didn't dare wake her yet. He considered for a moment tying his great locks back and crawling beneath his love's engine bay, looking for more evidence of injury. Her ride height denied any kind of work from the bottom, less she was propped up on something. The thought was discarded.
Thomas tugged her hood down, closing it gently over her 350 TPi mere moments before Ash returned to the scene. She noted the fewd situation, gaining a few meals to use before he dug into his own stores. Mystery meals! He considered digging into one now, but it would have to wait. Metal Wave was more important. The fuel stopped flowing some time ago, and to this end, the Native shooed the pump valve away, closing and locking the gas tank up. It was here that Ash noted the damage. A heavy sigh fell from Thomas, hesitantly concurring././
"Yeah, she's in rough shape... Seems like a good time for a widebody, if you ask me." /./Thomas lol'd, trying to his actual concern. Seven years of flawless driving, not a scratch or dent... All for naught, lost to one night of odd unfortunate coincidences. Then an irregularity. Nobody, but nobody has ever asked Thomas if his Camaro had a name, let alone assuming she did. He barely had time to register this thought before Issac approached the pair. He made his appeal, decidedly and effectively turning the party into a duo. Thomas nodded in approval of Issac's decision, throwing up a set of Irons from across Metal Wave././
"Later dude. Don't get ate."
/./Issac had only just reached the property line before Thomas looked to Ash././"Did you see any extra gas cans in there? Now that we lost all that weight, we can carry a few more cans. Gotta have enough in case the route to Vegas is fuel-less." /./Right to business. Very unlike Thomas././ "Also, Ashleigh, this is Metal Wave. Metal Wave, Ashleigh. Make friends you two. Vegas is a way from here, and the last thing I need is an estrogen-laced PMS s***storm. Or a shat clutch." /./Jokingly, of course, he points to both the girls with a glaze, eyes wide with intensity. With that, he trotted back inside, searching for more supplies. A crap end to a crap post././
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Jun 5, 2010 22:21:28 GMT -5
Spaghetti had been shoveling down Ashleigh's mouth after the snarky remark on Thomas' behalf, choking in the process; a resentful expression on the Gunslingers face as pasta hung from her lips. A moment was spared to finish the mouthful, "Actually..." Ash had started speaking just before Thomas had worked inside the shop, "Tho-" the door shut, "Urgh... Be grateful I have a solution to this madness," she insinuated at the Chevy.
Back inside the shop, "Thomas," attention was required, "The road trip won't be necessary," Ashleigh's comment may have lingered a little longer than expected; it was obvious they wouldn't teleport there, albeit at minimum it would be just that in its own profound way. Ash leaned back against the counter with a contented sigh, "I've a friend who owns a dirt strip out in Vegas. We can fly there," some elaboration was probably required; they both knew a 2 tonne Chevrolet couldn't just be tied to the bottom of a Cessna and hoped for the best, "He's got a Galaxy, civilian grade, the kinda thing which hauls tanks and sh*t halfway around the world," she did the palms up shrug, "We can just airlift out'a here," Ash went for the door, "Feel free to snatch up anymore petrol though, there's a bit of a crisis in El-vee with that at the moment so the more we take over... the merrier,"
Back outside. Better company could be dreamt, the Racer looked at the IROC indignantly. Ash grabbed her bottle of drink and got to work on finding a way onto the roof; Thomas had indirectly agreed to the Las Vegas vacation, now it was her turn to do something about it; just needed a few more bars on the cellphone. A ladder around back provided the means to reach the roof, an overwhelming smell filled Ash's nose once reaching the top. It seemed someone had chosen the hermit option during the crisis, the decayed shell of a man lying on the roof; he was mostly skin and bones by now. Ash gandered in the leather satchel he'd previously owned: a small box of pain killers, "Better than nothin'" pocketing the item.
Ash had climbed on top of the refrigeration radiator, leaning back with her legs dangling off the side; no energy was being processed so it made for a decent chair... or doorstop. Ash pushed her fringe over one ear while looking down on her smart phone; mild reception lingered over Raccoon City. Rubbing her eye with her thumb out of spite while waiting for the call to go through, "The caller has their phone turned off, please---" call ended, no point sugar coating that part, Rhys was notorious for leaving his phone off.
It was shrugged and the cursor bumped up one contact, call sent, "Yallellalmallallamallow?" screamed through the phone only half a ring in, Ash pulled it away from her ear to survive the onslaught...
Gen had always been one to be over reactive, and the fact that she'd answered the way she had vindicated she didn't even look at the contact calling her. Ash cleared her throat, "Genevieve..." was about as much as it would take for the maelstrom to fire up.
There was a short moment given for what Ash thought sounded like a kettle steaming up, "AAAAAAAAAAA-!" the Gunslinger lowered the phone from her temple, preferring it intact (her head that is) and wasted a minute of her time looking over the horizon at the last of the sunlight; she counted to 60 one more time before holding the receiver loosely half a metre from her ear, "-And then the police came 'round asking about!"
Timed perfectly, Ash had managed to catch her at the end of her diatribe army, "Ahuh. Don't worry, everything's fine. The police stuff sounds unrelated, I just got caught in a hitch with the last negotiation is all," predicting what the stuntwoman on the other end had screamed about; Ash let a few seconds pass in case things fired up again, "Listen, we can catchup once I'm back in Vegas. I need you to do something for me. Rhys' phone's switched off and I need an airlift out of Raccoon City with the cargo carrier. Think you can do that for moi?" the act of fiddling with her shoelace had been employed while trying to desperately keep things brief with one of the most talkative people in the world.
"No probs, I think he's in the middle of some engineering stuff with a couple of his mates. Y'know what he says, 'Call me in a month of four,'" a stupid giggle followed, "But hey, why aren't ya just driving back; do you have some extra cars or something that nee-"
"Nope," Ash cut the rabbler off, "Just get him to fly over here," and thumbed the 'end call' button. She pocketed the phone and sighed, slipping off the radiator and climbing back down to ground zero.
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Post by .name//Technomancer on Jun 6, 2010 16:08:39 GMT -5
/./His interruption of Ash was unintentional. Thomas planned on quite the drive, and had yet to sleep, even furthering his worry. The last time he ran on sugar for too long, he got the s***s. And he wasn't about to fall asleep at the helm. He kicked a small pile of debris, large enough to hide a gas can or two. Nothing but paper and empty milk jugs. He continued to wander around the trashed gas station, looking for any obvious signs. At this point, little single gallon cells would have been a welcome, and it may be what the Native will put up with. He had only crossed through a few isles; Plexiglas doors chiming open to impede his search.
For a moment, he had cursed silently his choice in walking in unarmed. But Ash poked in, rather than a Zack or thirty. She made the flight proposal, to which Thomas froze a moment. She continued on, speaking of the Galaxy, and the fuel crisis in Vegas. She then turned and left Thomas, paralyzed and dazed by her "solution". He simply stared at the empty air which Ash once stood, left brow cocked on high././
"F-flyi--- Flying?!"
/./Now, Thomas' fears are simple, yet for complicated reasons. Surgical and medical needles; not for the puncture and invasion of the body, but due to shoddy doctors growing up, unable to find veins or what have you on the first, second, or third tries. Bruises, excessive bleeding, infection followed. Zacks; not for their unnatural existence, nor for their grotesque features. The thought of being bitten, and turned into one of those freaks haunted his unconscious mind. Unnatural longevity. A soul trapped within an autonomous body. These are grounded, well-within-reason fears.
Flying, is a whole 'nother experience. As a car guy, he prefers being stuck to the ground with gravity, and being in control of the vehicle. Turbulence, storms, b*tchin' winds, a flock of birds. A simple hatred of flight. This is what Thomas held. But Ash was right. Flying would be faster, somewhat safer, what with desert banditos, and cheaper on gas. But Thomas was far from looking forward to it. The thought was pushed to the back of his head, shifting focus to finding the gas cans. Another three minute survey of the cramped gas station revealed two more cells; two point five gallon per. Better than nothing.
These in hand, he flew the coop back to Metal Wave, looking to his Blue-and-Silver lover. A mental image put her on the loading ramp of a large plane, then that plane crashing into the side of a mountain if the pilot turned Zack. He clicked his teeth, pushing this thought away. He dared not think Worst-Case. He pulled the pump handle away from it's base once more, plunging the nozzle into the first of the cells. Premium all the way. He considered shifting some of his possessions around to make room for the tanks, but first... A thought.
He popped Metal Wave's driver door open, sliding into the comfy bucket seat. Reaching in back, he nabs his Asus, opens her up, and starts away booting it up. It takes only a few seconds. Passkey, Gamertag, User name, Computer name, Vehicle's name, Cat's name, and Favorite Video Game codes required. He set his Asus down, allowing her time to ease into Main Operations. The Native leaped from his Camaro, switching gas cans just as the first was full. Back in his bucket seat, he opens Wiki, which thankfully hasn't crashed yet. Lulzily, the main page was hacked, all of the main articles depicting "Zombie Kill Of The Week", a Zombie killer named "Chicago Ted" who had gained apparent fame, and a list of weapons, improvisational weapons, and the best and most efficient ways to destroy the living dead. Wikipedia had been raided.
He began a search for a simple term: "Galaxy". From here, he proceeded to >Disambiguation [Galaxy], and began to scroll down, looking for the vehicles with similar names. Here, he found the C-5 Galaxy article. For the next few minutes, he read well into it's anatomy, design, weight and cargo limits, anything necessary. Assurance of flight would keep him from going bats*** crazy mid-flight././
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