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Post by Mr.Revenge on Nov 18, 2008 20:52:00 GMT -5
Small towns or villages in the middle of nowhere, these places seem to have fallen to the power of the virus in a matter of minutes. The towns themselves are fairly well stocked with supplies of different sorts. Feel free to go for them, or die trying.
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Scrambles
Alive
Because chucking a handgrenade into a school room isn't cool
Posts: 13
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Post by Scrambles on Apr 7, 2011 0:04:40 GMT -5
I'd prefer this to be closed aside from the people i've approached personally about this. Untill a later date that is.[/color]
Grunting softly as he bounced, trying to level his gear out on his shoulders, Dillon walks across the floor on the third floor of a brick four story building. He had previously cleared it and had been staked out here for some time, just peering around the city and keeping an eye on it. He can't understand why he had been sent here, let alone why he was sent in alone. He had been told, however, that there was a small number of men who were supposedly working to spread the virus. He was basically told to kill anything that moves.
Planting his hands on the small of his back and leaning backwards, Dillon pushes his back forward a bit to pop a few spots. Out of the corner of his eye Dillon saw some movement and reactively reached for the L96 AWC which he had propped against the wall beside the window. It was Mid-day so he didn't have any lights on, despite doubting there even being power anymore, and it gave him the advantage of not having any lights on the wall behind him to make him silhouetted, and he was cast in shadows.
Shouldering the weapon and looking for the movement again, Dillon spotted the individual sprinting across the road. Bringing the rifle up and peering through the scope, only one real thing stood out to him. The man had a shotgun. Thats about all he could see before the individual disappeared again behind a fence.
"Well, Orders are Orders." He says, bringing the cross hairs to where the head of the individual should be. All he saw was the man's feet and he had stopped. "Auf Wiedersehen" He Dillon says before pulling the trigger. The 7.62 round leaves the suppressed barrel nearly silently and tears through the sheet metal fence. He stood there for a brief moment to watch. The body didn't fall. "You evil little..." He says, trailing off as he grabs the bolt and pulls it back, reloading the rifle with a fresh round.
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Post by Ravendes on Apr 7, 2011 18:09:07 GMT -5
At first, only having made passage into the settlement directly before him a few moments ago, Cameryn was slightly suspicious of his surroundings. In accordance with said suspicion, his Mossburg rested in a diagonal position acrost his chest. With his right hand wrapped ever so slightly around it's pistol grip he had come to favor over the years, and his left grasping it's angled grip securely, Cameryn took a step forward, then setting his pace to a near jog. He set forward in a straight line at first, his gaze bouncing from building to building, crevice to crevice. Abandoned shops and litter throughout the streets, coupled with utter silence, fed a sense of uneasiness that spread quickly through him.
Where there had not been a breeze before, Cameryn's eyes widened just barely at the feeling of a rush of air crashing against his back. He wheeled, turning to face what was both the entranceway and exit to and from this particular settlement. In the distance, there were faint shadows, but nothing that was immediately identifiable. Thinking quickly, Cameryn turned and spotted a large pasture, just beyond a row of rusty and blood encrusted chain link fences. He measured his steps carefully, his eyes darting from one side of the street to the other in search of the owner of this presence his instincts insisted was in the area. Taking a deep breath, his gaze falling once more on the fences before him, Cameryn began to run, sprinting through the small opening between links. He stopped suddenly, hearing the sounds of the undead reverberate from the corridors that were now at his back. Leaning against a large chunk of sheet metal that "blacked out" a portion of the fence itself, Cameryn let his right hand fall from the pistol grip of his Mossburg to the hilt of his right-hand kukri knife. Just as his index finger flicked the snap strap loose, allowing him to grab hold of the hilt, he felt yet another shift in the air. Not thinking twice and trusting his gut, Cameryn dropped his head, but remained standing.
The shuddering sensation and highly audible ping of metallic contact rung out into the still breeze, and as he turned his head to look at the metal slab, something new had come to display itself. "A bullet hole. Wonderful", Cameryn grumbled to himself as he scanned the groups of open buildings, stranded cars, and entrances to various alleys and passable tunnels. His gaze shifted once more, and to his immediate left, on the opposing side of the fencing he stood by, was a thin hallway-like gap, wide enough for a single person to pass through, such as himself. Stepping out of his "cover", Cameryn caught sight of a large building, roughly 3 to 4 stories high out of the corner of his eye. "Bingo!" Cameryn broth sharply as he burst from cover, darting across the gap at a sprint.
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Scrambles
Alive
Because chucking a handgrenade into a school room isn't cool
Posts: 13
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Post by Scrambles on Apr 7, 2011 18:43:15 GMT -5
Swearing as the figure bolts, crossing a short street and disappearing from his view, Dillon takes a few steps and looks out of another window, trying to anticipate where the figure would show up from. He hadn't poked around in the city for long enough to find out where all the roads or streets went. All he knew is that the first floor had two doors and three windows. He had rigged the doors with some paracord attached to a can full of junk such as silverware, pennies, pebbles, anything that would make noise when the door was opened and the can fell off the table it was barely sitting on.
Some movement in the field caught his eye and, peering through the scope, Dillon grimaced as he sling his rifle over his back after folding the stock forward. There were a few clusters of zombies moving up from the south. At a quick glance there were about three groups of between ten and twenty. Swearing again, Dillon heads over to one of the windows on the north end and, grabbing some of the Paracord in the pouch on his hip, he hooked it through his rappelling harness and Loops it around a pillar, wrapping it around his hand a few times before taking the other strand in his hand. Moving to the nearest window, on the north side of the house, he opens a window and prepares to jump out, waiting for a signal that the man was inside the building.
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Post by Ravendes on Apr 7, 2011 20:27:12 GMT -5
Cameryn's path was short, and to the point. He bolted down a dusty runway, then taking a sharp left. His eyes darted directly upward at the sound of something resembling a creek. Sure enough, Cameryn caught sight of a window just being pushed open. Nodding just slightly in visible certainty that he had indeed spotted his seemingly increasingly versatile target. "Ahh. The chase. Been a while!", Cameryn spat, and with that, he bolted straight down another narrow corridor, dust and clouds of dirt sprouting up from beneath each bound he took. His gaze shot straight forward, pointed at the varying entry points into the building his opponent had come to find refuge in. First to be spotted were two doors, each facing a different section of town. His gaze shifted again, this time falling upon a decent sized window facing his direction. A small smirk passed over his lips as he advanced, stopping directly in front of the door. With a single, fluid motion, Cameryn shifted the position of his Mossburg, rotating the sling, as well as the weapon itself, clockwise. With a pat on his back, and his hand falling upon the upper rail of his Mossburg instead of cloth, Cameryn reached down to his left boot, yanking forth another of his prised possessions, his field knife.
Looking back at the window sill, Cameryn fidgeted with the frame, but did so with discretion. Old campaigns with his squad back in Alaska had given Cameryn quite a bit of knowledge in most fields of operation within the web of combat. Taking a split second to think back suddenly was worth almost everything to Cameryn at this very moment, seeing how as it reminded him of the consistent 'habit' of modern snipers. He took his field knife in his left hand, then placing the tip of the blade beneath the window panel itself. With a slightly forceful hit on the handle of the knife, the knife's blade pushed up, pushing the window up with it. No sounds accompanied the motions, and that was plenty enough for Cameryn to push on. He pried the window open, Then glancing around the room in search of rigs. Aside from a tin cup atop a ledge in the far corner by the first door, there wasn't much of a threat. With another fluid motion, Cameryn grabbed the window sill, pushing his upper body upwards. Whilst holding himself up, Cameryn thrust his lower body up and forward, sending him, legs first, through the window. He landed as quietly as he could manage, his eyes darting straight towards the first set of stairs.
Up until this point, he had moved quickly, and without much care for who or what could hear him moving about. Now, taking it step by step, and doing what he could with both anticipation and apprehension in mind to hush his movements within the building, Cameryn made his way up the stairs, crossing through the second level without any sight of anything hostile. Gazing at the third cluster of stairs, and taking timed steps towards them, Cameryn lifted his right hand once more, passing his field knife into his left hand, and reaching up to his chest. With both his right index and middle fingers, he applied the necessary pressure to release the clasps aiding in holding his sidearm in it's holster. Cameryn gripped his pistol tightly, his left hand by his side also tightly gripping the field knife he carried. If this was a trap, Cameryn was sure to, at the very least, give his opponent a challenge.
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Scrambles
Alive
Because chucking a handgrenade into a school room isn't cool
Posts: 13
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Post by Scrambles on Apr 7, 2011 20:51:12 GMT -5
Dillon listened intently for a short while. He had heard a series of clops and jangling of gear as the man drew closer. Then, suddenly, everything was quiet. This man was no ordinary guy who happened to have stolen gear from dead military personnel. Most would have ran up and busted through the doors. If they were brave enough, or stupid enough that is. This one seemed to know better. Or he was REALLY quick and caught the can before it fell.
Drawing his pistol from the holster on his belt, Dillon kept it trained towards the other side of the room while he counted to thirty. Once he hit thirty he quickly holstered his pistol and slipped the restraint cord over the handle before planting his free hand on the windowsill, jumping over with both legs and gripping the paracord tightly. Getting situated quickly, he pushes away from the wall and loosens his grip on the cord so he repelled down a floor. Bending at the knees when he hit, careful to make as little noise as he could, Dillon pushes twenty feet quickly, gripping it in the last feet of the drop to slow down. Once his feet touched the ground he let go of the cord and twisted his hand few times to un-wrap the paracord from around his gloved hand. As soon as the slack was returned, the pack on his hip began to wind up, the end of the cord flying up into the room, whipping around, and flying down and into the pack as Dillon jogged off, pulling his pistol again, muzzle down and his left hand wrapped around the grip over his right hand as he went. Lifting his handgun as he turned corners to make sure he wasn't running into another individual.
He managed to make it half a block before lowering his shoulder and ramming a door open on a small one story building. Dillon had almost tripped over a corpse that was laying along the ground just inside. Swearing, Dillon recovers and continues through the house with his handgun lifted. Twice he had encountered dead ends of the house. "The hell?" He says, finding a large window on the east side. "To hell with this house." He says, Turning the safety on before gripping the barrel and using the grip of the gun to break the glass before jumping through it. He landed on the ground and was just two steps away from another alley, but for some reason he was compelled to not go to it.
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Post by Ravendes on Apr 7, 2011 21:30:40 GMT -5
Cameryn took several shallow breaths,his gaze straight ahead, looking at the door that separated him from the floor that his target had last been spotted within. He lifted his left hand, knife still in hand, and reached for the knob to open the door. Just before his fingers grasped the knob, the sound of scraping cord caught his attention, and with that, he turned about, quickly maneuvering through the building's other two floors, and bursting out the front door. The door nearly burst off it's hinges as Cameryn shoved through it, his right hand still on his chest with the pistol grip in-hand. His eyes shot around the street he ran into, and caught sight of two different instances. To his right, multiple crowds of now somewhat aware undead were making their way towards him, and to his immediate forward flank, the sound of feint footsteps. Ignoring the undead for the time being, Cameryn lunged forward towards the alley, eying the footprints in the partially sandy gravel.
Cameryn kept vigilant in his sight, and yet remained agile, tracing the steps his 'prey' had taken to get away. As he ran, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a doorway, opened wide with the door still in motion from the 'break in'. Cameryn slowed his pace, once again beginning to measure each step forward, his eyes glued to the doorway. Just before he took a step into the house, Cameryn heard the sound of glass shattering, and snapped back, bolting around the side of the house. Re-clasping the buckles of his sidearm holster and releasing his right hand from the grip of his sidearm as he rounded the building's corners, Cameryn switched hands with his field knife, now wielding it in his right hand. Within a few seconds, Cameryn rounded one last corner, just in time to catch his adversary in what seemed to be a pause. Almost out of pure instinct, Cameryn thrust his right arms forward, releasing the hilt of his field knife as his arm extended completely, sending the blade sailing through the air. The blade was not aimed for the man before him, but rather for the post that was directly in front of the man's path.
In another fluid motion, Cameryn reached his right hand back up to his chest and unclasped the buckles once more, but this time, when his hand left his chest, his sidearm followed. raising his pistol to roughly eye level of his opponent, Cameryn took a single sharp breath. "Speak up, soldier."
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Scrambles
Alive
Because chucking a handgrenade into a school room isn't cool
Posts: 13
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Post by Scrambles on Apr 7, 2011 22:09:38 GMT -5
Dillon had gone into a sort of trance, watching the empty alleyway till the sudden thud of a razor sharp blade lodging into wood broke him out, reactively turning towards where the blade came from with his hand on his handgun, but stopped short on the draw, noticing he already had a muzzle directed at him.
Cursing under his breath, Dillon was about to respond to the man, slowly lifting his hands, before something down the alley caught his eye. Turning his head he saw something sprinting towards him. Cursing loudly and taking a stance, reaching out and gripping the handle of the blade from the post, Dillon yanks it out and, as he drew back, the creature lunged forward, landing on him and knocking him back. Cursing yet again as he stumbled back, knife in hand, and stumbled back inside the house through the broken window.
Screaming a deep, primal growl, Dillon takes the knife and begins to stab it repeatedly into the torso of the beast, his free hand drawing back and punching it in the jaw as it leaned down to bite him. "Get off me you a**hole!" He shouts, thrusting his empty hand forward, gripping it's neck and pushing it back so he could get his other hand free and dig the blade into the soft spot under the jaw and into the back of the neck. Grunting as the body suddenly falls limp on top of him, Dillon pushes it to the side and pulls the knife out as he stands up slowly.
Outside he saw, down the alley he had been attacked from, a small group of zombies walking towards him, arms swinging wildly. Swearing, He stabs the knife into the windowsill and draws his pistol, bringing it up.
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Falar
Zombie Hunter
If you hold on tightly, you may lose all hope without knowing.
Posts: 112
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Post by Falar on Apr 8, 2011 13:04:53 GMT -5
Standing atop the walkway of one of the water-towers within town, scanning the maze like streets, roof-tops, windows and any other area Elias hummed softly to himself. There wasn't much for the town, not now and likely not when it was alive. The living were either gone or bunkered somewhere and the dead had either wandered off or hidden themselves amongst the dark empty buildings.
His mission was as yet undefined, his orders either unclear or incomplete. The only thing he knew of for sure was that he was supposed to bunker down, eliminate any threats he could find and pursue any living with deadly intent.
He had seen figures moving in the distance and by the time he had risen the scope of his Beretta snipers rifle to his eye he had caught enough details to know neither of them were friendly and it seemed a game of cat and mouse that could only end with either one or both dead.
lowering his snipers rifle to let it hang in his grip for a moment Elias scanned around the building they had disappeared into. He could already see the small groups of dead they had attracted in their haste and he shook his head as he smoothly moved the snipers rifle onto his back and grabbed the M14 he had laid against the rail of the walk way.
walking to the other side of the water tower, Elias now scanning the buildings and ground immediately below him; it was still clear of the dead. Moving the M14 from his grasp and to his back, Elias bent over, grabbed the first rung and hopped down, his other hand grasping the side rail as the one holding onto the rung ensured he didn't drop too far from the ladder before it moved to the other side rail. His booted feet hung in the air, directing his fall at first until Elias stuck them forward, catching on a rung just over two thirds of the way down, his grip just loose enough as he slid a bit further, almost balling up as his grip tightened, slowing his decent to a halt.
Now stopped Elias scanned the surrounding area from the new angle, able to see deeper into windows and under cover his vantage point couldn't penetrate. Still clear.
Continuing his descent, landing lightly on the ground and turning, his M14 smoothly sliding over his shoulder and into his hands as he did a final check of the area before he jogged down a street, checked his corners, then veered to the direction of the building he had seen the two others enter, only from the opposite side.
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Post by Ravendes on Apr 8, 2011 16:17:15 GMT -5
Cameryn stared straight at his 'opponent', watching him carefully and keeping the barrel of his pistol trained upon the man. His gaze followed every motion the man before him made, and just before he stepped forward, Cameryn found himself severely interrupted. From a corridor blackened by shadows and an overcast sky, a beastly variation of the undead appeared, and it was this 'companion' of his that it was after. Cameryn watched as the two collided, taking a single step back with one foot and training his sights now upon the creature that attacked from darkness. With his finger feathering the trigger, Cameryn watched the struggle in a studious manor. Though the creature had caught the sniper off guard, this man had managed to not only hold the kreeten back, but also to strike a lethal blow, and in a considerable time frame at that. Cameryn stepped forward, out of the shadows that engulfed him when standing just beyond the left corner of the house. His gaze darted towards the man, having already picked up on not only the sounds of the undead now behind him, but also their putrid stench.
Taking a few ranged steps towards the window sill, Cameryn reached his left hand out, grabbing hold of the hilt of his field knife, and ripped it from the wood. He then knelt over, sliding it back into it's cove within his left boot. Standing back up quickly and vaulting into the house through the window sill, Cameryn once again turned his gaze to the man now standing before him, a pistol of his own raised. "Name's Cam. If you're anywhere as good'a shot as you seem with that rifle of yours, I'd strongly suggest you pull up cover and scope out the roadway that led us here." Cameryn turned his head, gazing through the window sill. The group of zombies had grown in number considerably. He reacted almost instantaneously, bending down slightly to grab an overturned table that had been strung out across the floor. Tossing it forward and turning it up for coverage, Cameryn knelt down, now in a crouched stance. He extended his right arm up and over his shoulder, tugging on it for a moment. Within a second's time, he pulled his weapon of choice to his front, the Mossburg 500. Shouldering the weapon, Cameryn looked up to his companion.
"Your move, bud."
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Scrambles
Alive
Because chucking a handgrenade into a school room isn't cool
Posts: 13
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Post by Scrambles on Apr 9, 2011 16:40:47 GMT -5
(Having hard time concentrating right now. Sorry for the s***ty quality)
As soon as a few zombies got rather close, Dillon brings his pistol to bear and fires a few rounds. two zombies dropping before the man threw a table against the window. Dillon knew from experience already that this particular building was rather strange. Only one door and it may have had quite a few windows, but most were rather small. Speaking of doors, the one Dillon rammed open was still open. Remembering this, he turns around and moves at a quick jog along the house, grabbing a chair and, upon reaching the door, he shuts it and lodges the chair under the knob, then grabbing the nearby dest and pulling it over to further lock the door in place.
"Hope you can hold the window Cam," Dillon shouts, bracing his hip against the desk and leaning into it to shut it. "I'm going to check the rest of the house" Dillon finishes, grunting with a final push against the desk before Dillon moves around, back into the house and checking the other rooms quickly, his pistol lifted as he entered.
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Falar
Zombie Hunter
If you hold on tightly, you may lose all hope without knowing.
Posts: 112
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Post by Falar on Apr 10, 2011 13:44:40 GMT -5
The rear of the building was relatively flat, a single, small window in a corner. The glass was broken out, dried out, flaking blood having spilled from the corpse hanging there. Despite the noise level inside- it sounded like a scuffle had started, it wasn't moving. He didn't take any chances, and chose another path.
Near the other corner rubble had been piled nearly as high as the building, cutting the path behind it from the street, several boards were propped well enough he could probably climb up. As he began moving forward however, he heard the first gun-shots and continued movement, now faster, louder. More organized yet chaotic still. He could hear the dead on the other side. He could hear a couple behind him now. He could probably take them, but this amount of noise would likely draw the attention of more. His best bet was to continue on.
Moving faster now, his path already mapped out in his mind Elias quickly tested the rubble before gingerly, if hastily, climbing onto it. The rubble was well enough set it could hold his weight, though for how long he didn't know and was not willing to find out. Placing his foot higher and using the hand of his opposite side Elias pulled himself further up. The roof was chest high now and Elias put his hands on the flat surface and hauled himself up, slowly, still trying to be quiet. His legs came up on his side, sweeping forward, his arms leaning toward the building, away from the fall behind as his weight moved.
Soon as his legs were solidly on the surface he pushed himself into a roll, coming up on his feet, just roughly at the center of the roof, his rifle in hands. The rubble shook a bit below as the dead, too focused on feeding and lacking the intelligence to climb, slammed into it almost frustratingly, knocking some of the looser pieces from the sides and top.
Within minutes the rubble was too low for anyone to climb, the dead having made effective use of their flailing, spastic bodies. Now if only they could be given hard hats and trained to take orders, they'd make an excellent demolitions team.
Mentally shaking himself Elias took stock of his situation as he moved his rifle to the nearest likely threat to those below him, and in extension to him and pulled the trigger, announcing his presence to the dead and living alike. The dead woman's head jerked back with the motion of the bullet slamming into it, her deadened feet shuffling back before the dead woman actually fell, twitching spasmodically as if in a seizure. The bullet that had passed through her head had hit the nose of a dead man, shattering the cartilage and sending bone chips flying, coagulated blood spurting weakly for a moment before he too fell.
His next several bullets were already embedding themselves into the dead, most finding their marks, others being near misses as the lurch of the dead took them out of their path.
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