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Post by thegunny on Mar 31, 2009 19:49:50 GMT -5
Claypoole turned and aimed, firing several quick rounds at the men that were aiming at them. Before he could put any real effort out to kill them, he turned and went to a crouch as he saw a nearby door open and 2 more hostiles pour out of nearby office and into their hallway, the team being caught in a crossfire. Claypoole barked out in his command voice
CROSSFIRE! HIT THE DECK!
Claypoole plopped down to the ground prone, and quickly emptied 4 rounds into the first of the newcomers, and then started spraying lead towards the next one at the same time the new guy opened fire. The other two guys that Tyson and Ludolf were facing had already opened fire.
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Post by Mikey on Apr 1, 2009 20:00:01 GMT -5
Tyson, as directed, fell to the ground and risked a quick glance back at the people who had come behind them. It looked like Clay had them under control, having killed one and was in the middle of putting fire on the others. He put his attention back to the other two in front, and raised his shotgun. From this position, as well as from the situation, he threw precision to the wind and started to pop off shotgun shells in front of him. The spray would guarantee a hit or two.
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Post by Metal Head on Apr 2, 2009 22:31:00 GMT -5
At the words of my comrade, I dropped to the ground with a thud and trained my M4 straight ahead at the two men before us. Tyson was already on the ground by the time I had em lined up, and his shotgun blew off two rounds before I even fired one. The wide spread of the buckshot tore into the first man who was standing right around the center of the hallway.
Turning my sights on the second, I lined up his chest quickly and dispatched him with two heavy rounds to his thoracic cavity. By the time the hostile had hit the ground he still wasn’t dead and desperately gasped for air. Not willing to spare another round to dispatch the man, I rolled over on my side and trained onto the two other hostiles who’d appeared from a nearby doorway. Claypoole already had them covered however, and by the time I had em lined up they were dropping to the floor, dead as Dillinger.
Without hesitation I was up and at the end of the hallway where the first two hostiles had appeared from, my M4 trained forward unaware of what was to come. Just as I reached the end of the hallway, 7.62mm rounds exploded from a nearby hostile, and I pressed my shoulder against the wall to try and stay out of the bullets paths.
The tell tale click click signaled the enemy was out of bullets, and instantly I popped out form the corner just enough to line my M4 up. Two rounds penetrated the mans Type IIIA Kevlar vest, the heavy .338 Spectre rounds punching beautiful holes through and through.
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Post by thegunny on Apr 3, 2009 18:20:38 GMT -5
As soon as the the two men dropped, Claypoole stood up and stepped backwards, knowing Ludolf and Tyson were at his back. He kept watching their six, and then barked out
The broadcast room is down the hall, through the cubicles, and to the chamber at the right. We need that room! Go! I've got our sixes covered, just move and I'll follow.
Claypoole didn't know that the cubicle had another 4 men(2 body armored, 2 unarmored; one Mossberg 500, one Mosin nagat["sniper" is trying to stay out of sight. Not the best of marksmen. May miss], one pre-assault weapon ban fully automatic AR-15, and one looted full auto M4A1. Then in the broadcasting chamber, there were the two final guys---- two men with an Uzi and an MP-5, and two Glock 19's. Both armored.
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Post by Lance Bishop on Apr 11, 2009 13:25:34 GMT -5
The lights were dim, increasing Lance's tactical effectiveness. These men were un-trained and he wasn't sure if they possessed the night vision equipment. The labyrinth of radio gear would serve as good cover along with the dim lighting conditions. Bishop took a peek in the doorway. One sentry was watching the door carefully, his weapon ready. He was standing with his back against the wall of radio equipment which split in to two roads, one leading left and one leading right.
Lance propped his M21 against the wall and slid a gloved hand behind his butt pack. There he gripped the hilt of his melee weapon. The former Green Beret pulled the large black bladed bowie knife from its sheath. Aya and Emily eyed Bishop carefully, their expression asking the obvious, "Just what are you doing" question. Bishop held up a finger, signalling for them to wait a minute. The two nodded and exchanged glances.
Bishop pinned himself up against the wall just next to the doorway. The sentry was still watching, good.. Lance took his blade and used both hands to catch a ray of the dim light flooding from the room. From there he created a small glare, to catch the soldier's eye. He then took the knife and ran it against the wall, creating a screeching noise as if someone were dragging something along the floor outside. The insurgent looked to his left and then to his right before advancing forward.
The man's weapon was raised and ready, Bishop would have to time this perfectly or he risked getting himself and the others hurt or alerting the other men to their presence in the immediate area.
Lance waited, his right hand gripping the knife tightly, his left arm bent, the hand by his left peck, ready to strike. He saw the shadow of the man growing closer and closer... And closer. Then, then barrel of the weapon poked through the doorway, soon followed by the figure of the insurgent. Bishop launched the attack, his left hand grabbed the weapon from the unsuspecting sentry and pulled it loose. The assault weapon fell to the floor, leaving Lance to finish the job. He spun off of the wall and brought the sharpened blade down hard on the man's shoulder, the blade slicing through his lat. Bishop placed the free left hand over the man's mouth, the pain flowed through the enemy's body.
Lance dropped the man to his knees and pulled the bowie knife free. He delivered a finishing blow to the heart, the tip slicing in through the tissue. Blood flowed like a river, pouring down the man's clothes and on to the floor. Bishop pulled the blade free and let the body fall to the floor. He continued in to the labyrinth, leaving his M21 behind for later recovery.
Bishop moved quickly and hunched over. He came to the corner and took a quick survey, deciding on the left route. He spent a moment moving through the maze of radio equipment before finally spotting his next victim. The man was like a lion on the prowl, taking prey down one at a time. The man stood with his back to Lance, watching a rear entrance in to the labyrinth, Bishop figured this guy must had left his back open, trusting in the man he had just dispatched to cover it for him.
Lance sprang in to action. He moved quickly and quietly down the isle, coming up on the six o'clock of the exposed insurgent. Bishop sprung up, wrapping his left arm under the man's arm and over his mouth, the right hand gripping the blade made a fluid motion across the man's neck, blood spilling out as Lance turned him around and dropped him face first to the ground. Within seconds the man bled out, or drowned in his own blood, whichever came first.
Bishop wiped the bowie knife clean on the man's pant leg and took a quick look before muttering in to his mouth piece. "Two down.. Three to go.." He released the transmitter on his headset and moved on, looking for the next target of opportunity.
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Post by Mikey on Apr 16, 2009 6:27:26 GMT -5
Tyson led the line of men through the huge maze of cubicals, bent on getting to the broadcast room. He didnt know exactly what it was they needed with the room, but his job wasnt to question orders. It was to follow those orders and ensure the enemy endured a heafty amount of casualties in the process. With that said, the sheer absence of people shooting at him had him on edge. Shouldnt they be around here somewhere?
Ya, they were. They were just hiding. Bastards...
Gunfire broke the silence of the area with a vengence as 5.56mm rounds started to fill the air. Two men judgeing by the muzzle flashes. M16's or something similer, full auto. f**k... The men of PMC-D all dropped down to the closest cover they could find, Tyson's being a line of file cabinets. He stuck his shotgun out with as little of his hands as he could and started to return fire. He wasnt getting his hopes up in hitting someone, he just wanted them to know someone was alive and kicking. Someone who needed, but couldnt, to be shot. As expected, the civilians with big guns ran out of ammo way too soon and were prime targets for the trained soldiers of the PMCD.
"Clear!" Tyson wispered sharply to the others as he took a look around the room from partial cover and risked being shot. When he retreated back down and didnt feel the thump of a round in his chest, he knew it was clean for now. "Were almost there. Lets go." He said, again leading the trek to the broadcasting room.
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Post by thegunny on Apr 16, 2009 22:19:18 GMT -5
OOC: I'll post up next, with Claypoole taking point with his double barreled shotgun.
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Post by thegunny on Apr 17, 2009 19:55:09 GMT -5
To Bishop
HEY MIGUEL! ARNIE! This place is a death trap, lets go downstairs and hole up with the boss in the broadcast room.
Silence. When an awkward moment of silence went on for too long, the same voice rang out again
MIGUEL!? ARNIE!?
Loud foosteps were heard, followed by a three way loud yelling conversation and the sound of three safeties clicking off.
WHO THE F**K'S THERE! COME THE F**K OUT NOW OR ELSE WE'LL SHOOT YOU IN THE KNEECAPS FIRST!
Emily shot a sideways glance at Aya, the two slowly stepping inside to cover Bishop who was going lone wolf on this. Aya had reluctantly taken back seat to his hunting, but was more focused on the developing situation's big picture. Emily felt her hands tighten on her Kimber stainless target II, thoughts running quick through her mind about her sister who'd been raped back when she was in Highschool... and who inspired her to take self defense and handgun classes. She had always connected being captured with her sister. She had always gotten more defensive and vicious when the scenario came to her focus... like now. It had popped randomly into her head, previously unthought of before in the mission--- It was doubtful they'd try and leave it at shooting them in the kneecaps for Aya and her. Bishop'd probably just get shot, but Aya and her probably had much more to lose. Emily hissed into her headset
We've got your back! Lets finish these b*stards! ---------------------------------------- Metalhead and Mikey
Claypoole growled
I'm on point. Cover me.
Claypoole had gotten rarely any of the action so far, and considering the compactness of a radio broadcasting room, his double barreled 10 gauge shotgun would be the king entry weapon. He would blow the s**t out of the first two f**kers he saw, and then hit the deck and reload while the other two opened fire. The three moved into the office area, and tried to snake along the south east corner and slip into the broadcasting room from there with minimal exposure to possible snipers in the office area. That didn't work out as well as they had hoped. Things never do.
The three slipped into the office area and were nearly into the broadcasting room when the titanic bang of a 7.62x54R bolt action rifle echoed through the room, the powerful round barely missing Claypoole and hitting a nearby computer--- which then seemed to partially collapse and implode, completely obliterated as the potent bullet slammed into it from technically(definitely by mosin nagat standards) point blank range. Even though they'd been able to wound and knock the first automatic rifleman out, the man with a pre-ban full auto CAR-15 stood up and opened fire, bullets following behind Ludolf and threatening to sweep over him if he stopped running. At the same time, a man stood up from cover behind a desk, aiming and firing a Mossberg 500 at 7 yards at Tyson. A good amount of the pellets connected, knocking Tyson sideways as the energy hit his plates but didn't stop him, causing him to run into the corner as they slipped into the broadcasting room. He kept going, using his arms to help him feel his way into the room, stumbling around the corner, practically leaning on it, stunned.
Claypoole entered the broadcasting room, and immediately saw two body armored men in front of him. One was standing(the chair recoiling away from him showing he had just been sitting) in front of the little computer console the techno-geeks used to help run the technical aspects of the broadcast, while through the glass in front of him was the actual broadcast room where another body armored man was inside. Both were turning to aim at them. To their right, from the computer console, was a doorway which led into the actual broadcast room. Claypoole acted quick. He aimed, and at one yard, fired the first barrel of his 10 gauge shotgun at the man closet to him. The man was practically thrown back as the heavy .00 10 gauge buckshot slammed into him, at the very least temporarily knocked out of the fight due to the stun factor of the payloud that had just hit him--- body armor or not. Then he aimed and fired the second barrel, the buckshot sending glass and pellets alike all shooting in the other body armored mans directly, causing the man to instictively duck(despite firing 5 rounds off with his Uzi, which zipped past Claypooles head, and then the bullets only went higher and higher one after the other till they were hitting the roof. Claypoole turned to the right, turned left, and stopped right in front of the door that led into the broadcast room, in a corner of sorts which was an ante-room to the broadcast room, inbetween the console room and the talk room. Claypoole took the moment to pause and switch the shotgun for his AR-10A2, and then stood up, and slammed his weight against the door, sending it flying wide open, and then crouched as he aimed his AR-10A2 and fired off 4 shots at the man with the Uzi. The man with the uzi tried to return fire, but the bullets only smacked around him, except for one which hit him in the chest, causing him to send his 4th round flying. Although the 9mm bullet from the hostile didn't penetrate, the 3 rounds from Claypoole penetrated the hostiles face(he had been shooting prone), Uzi, and shoulder. The last bullet had flown wide.
TWO HOSTILES DOWN! GET THE OTHERS!
Claypoole quickly started to reload his shotgun before turning to aim his AR-10A2 over the shattered glass and the radio console, and aim out the broadcast room into the office
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Post by Mikey on Apr 23, 2009 2:18:07 GMT -5
As soon as they got a bit of a rest period, in the fact that people were shooting at them but didnt have a chance of hitting them. As was the current situation. Now, he had time to catch his breath and feel around to see if he had a broken rib or not. The metal plates, which were pretty much shredded, didnt offer much protection. Especially from a full on point blank blast from a 12 guage shotgun. At least the kevlar had held up. Now he was just in pain instead of trying to pick up his guts off the ground.
And now, after he was recovered well enough, he stopped feeling the pain and started feeling ****ed off. "Got the nerve to shoot me motherf**ker..." He muttered as he fed shells into his shotgun. "You wanna play that game with me!" He said, louder. "Ok, lets play!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. He topped the weapon off with one last shell and popped out of cover.
One of the hostiles was in plain sight. Probably thinking he was invincibal in the military grade armor he was wearing. Boy was he dead wrong, dead being the key word. "Say cheese!" Tyson yelled out, lost in rage as he fired a shell at the man. It hit him square in the chest and knocked the air out of him. Another shot stumbled him back, and a third broke bone. He delivered the coup de grace with one last round in the head. The helmet the man wore stopped a few of the pellets, but his unprotected face soaked up a lot of lead. The man was dead before he hit the ground.
Full auto fire rang out, several of the rounds hitting Tyson in the chest and face. His kevlar chest armor stopped the fairly low caliber 5.56 rounds and his mask made a clink as the rounds bounced off. The mask was the thickest part of the outfit, being the only peice made of titanium and being several inches thick. You couldnt be to careful, he always said. Sort of...
"b*tch!" He yelled as he put rounds out at the last shooter, causing the man to retreat into the cover of a nearby doorway. "There!" He yelled, making a move to jump over the window frame to get him.
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Post by thegunny on Apr 28, 2009 11:58:14 GMT -5
Mikey
BAM!
The loud report of an overpowered Mosin nagat rifle echoed throughout the rooms, practically deafening and stunning the bandits around the office area, and hurting the ears of the P.M.C's. The 7.62x54R round zipped straight towards Ludolf, who was aiming around and firing around the corner at the hostiles. The bullet slapped right into the end of the corner, penetrated, and zipped out the other end slamming into his upper chest body armor, stunning him for a long moment. Ludolf got a face full of fragments and dust, sending him recoiling back from the combined hits. Ludolf staggered and leaned back on the computer equipment behind him, hissing in agony with his hand over his eyes, his entire right cheek peppered and bleeding, and his right eye having been wounded. That wound was going to need surgery...
Ludolf just got lucky that the bullet had hit the wall first--- or at least, sorta lucky. The ominous sound of a clanky, clumsy, hard, and cumbersome bolt working echoed in the ensuing silence of the room, forcing the two of them to react. The muzzle blast had given the marksmans position away. Claypoole and Tyson both stood up, and opened fire, taking down the marksman with accurate burst semi auto fire, before switching their aim. Claypoole turned and finished his magazine by sending it all downrange at the man with the pre-assault weapon ban CAR-15. He had ducked down underneath a desk, but Claypoole's powerful .308 winchester ammo had little trouble getting past the wood at him, and soon he was swiss cheese. As the stream of bullets slackened noticeably, Claypoole screamed into his headset
LUDOLFS HIT! WOUND IS SEVERE! NEED MEDICAL ATTENTION IMMEDIATELY! HIT IN THE EYE! HIT IN THE F**KING EYE!
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Post by Lance Bishop on May 3, 2009 18:15:34 GMT -5
"We've got your back! Lets finish these b*stards!"
Bishop heard the female's voice in his headset. He nodded slowly, "Three left.." Lance simply replied. They had discovered him, no matter, these guys were rag - tags. Thought they were bad ass because they had a gun. Lance had years of US Army Special Forces training and experience under his belt, he was confident.
The sniper sheathed his bowie knife and quickly retrieved the 1911 from his thigh holster. He pulled the hammer back and waited. He could hear the jingle of gear and thump of boots on the ground. Bishop was pinned up against a wall of radio equipment. He glanced over at the body laying just a few feet away. An AK - 47 lay on the ground and the dead man had a bandolier of magazines strapped to his chest.
Bishop reached over and snatched up the automatic weapon and jacked a few of the magazines, laying them on the floor next to his boot. He lay the 1911 in the holster on his thigh, but didn't strap it. The assault rifle would just be something to get their heads down and take out the first idiot who came charging in.
Lance peered around the corner. He couldn't see them, but he could hear them. The sniper picked up the three magazines and slipped over to the next wall of equipment, getting a better position. He set the magazines down and positioned himself at the edge, listening closely for the first set of foot steps to be coming his way. He'd then blind fire a spray of ammunition in to the incoming hostile's chest. That'd bunker them.
"Mind grabbing my '21 for me..?" Bishop requested through the headset. He had left the rifle with Emily and Aya when he went lone wolf in to the maze with his knife.
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Post by Mikey on May 7, 2009 1:33:39 GMT -5
Tyson looked back at Ludolf for a quick moment before he made a decision. He wasnt a medic. He wouldnt be able to do dick for him. But, he could take that f**ker out with the rifle bigger than he was. And that was what he planned on doing.
"One left! I got the bastard!" He yelled, going for the guy with the big sniper's rifle. Where in gods name he got it, Tyson didnt know. But he did know that the Rambo invincibal crap he pulled earlier wouldnt work. One of those rounds would snap through the weakened kevlar armor he wore like it was cotton. His best defense was to avoid being seen. That, or trying to make the f**ker fire a shot, miss, and then get him up close when he worked the bolt like the jackass he was with no experience.
Tyson hopped the window like he was stepping over a pile of rocks on the ground, putting his side to the cubical wall and listening. The thin wall didnt do jack for protection, but neither would the plaster walls against that weapon. His best bet was to avoid being seen. Not an easy task. And he couldnt just roll out a pipe bomb like he wanted to. They needed to secure the broadcast room. At this point, he didnt even remember why or even for who. He just knew the bastards here were causing way too much trouble for a bunch of raiders and scavengers, and it was ****ing him off.
Suddenly, the tell tale blast of the Mousin Nagat sounded, and Tyson held for a moment. He wasnt hit. From the sound of it, none of his teammates were either. And that f**ker had to reload.
Standing and taking off in a run, he looked around for the guy, seeing him duck back down into cover to try to avoid being seen. But, it was too late. Tyson ran as fast as he could, quite fast for someone of his size and carrying as much weight as he was. He reached within about five feet of the cubical the would be sniper had ducked under, and he jumped. Plowing through the cardboard thin wall, toppleing it over, he landed on the man and pinned him to the ground under the wall.
Tyson slid the shotgun out of reach of both of them and rolled to the right. Odds were, this guy was right handed. That meant the barrel was in his left hand, and that meant, in his mind, that the barrel was facing left. The wall flew upward from the man's pushing, suddenly free of any weight, and he looked around. He spotted Tyson instantly and tried to aim the rifle at him. Tyson grabbed it, pointed it into the air, and forced the man to pull the trigger with his free hand. The round echoed out and plaster powder fell.
The man, once disarmed, was no match. The rifle was knocked out of his hands when Tyson grabbed it, delivered a quick punch to the man's chest, and yanked. He threw it as far away as he could as the man tried to grip for his throat. Tyson smiled behind his mask as the man grabbed only the neck guard of the slightly intact steel armor's upper piece. With a quick motion, Tyson slammed his own head down and connected the hard mask with the mans unprotected face. Blood gushed from the mans broken nose as Tyson delivered another headbutt. One more, and the man was unconcious, his face raw and covered in blood.
"f**k you..." He whispered. Still on top of the man, he reached for the Desert Eagle on his leg and yanked it free. He held the barrel of the .44 caliber pistol an inch from the mans temple and pulled the trigger. Blood and brain matter erupted into the air and washed over Tyson. "Goddammit." He said, wipeing some off. "Well, needed a new suit anyway..." He said, and stood up.
"Tyson to Claypoole. Got him." He said into the radio, starting his way back to the others after picking up his shotgun.
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Post by thegunny on May 7, 2009 20:04:15 GMT -5
Emily picked up the M21 and started to head towards Bishop, and then kneeled beside him, holding the M21 out for him. Nothing happened. At least a minute or two passed before finally it became apparent both sides was playing the defensive.... but this time, the PMCD didn't have time on its side. Emily(without meaning to)hissed in Bishop's ear
You heard Claypoole! We don't have time for this! Ludolf needs help, now!
Almost as if on cue, a radio report came from Claypoole(Him using the radio on all hands frequency as he replied to Tyson for a reason)
D**n, that was a bit f**king overkill Tyson. Get going upstairs to get the girls and Bishop down here immediately! I'll cover Ludolf here!
Claypoole had pulled Ludolf into the broadcasting room and had "restrained" him, keeping him sitting up straight(so blood would go away from his eye wound) and as still as possible, while still having his weapons close and ready to use. Once Ludolf stopped flailing, Claypoole made sure he had his double barreled shotgun within easy reach.
Emily looked at Bishop in concern, split between running away now to get downstairs and help Ludolf, and making sure Bishop and Aya didn't go this fight alone. It was apparent now. They weren't going to get to make these guys come into a fatal funnel. PMCD was going to have to be the ones to charge first. After the ass wipping all of them had gotten, it was highly doubtful the hostiles would be as cocky as they had made it seem like they would be
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Post by Metal Head on May 18, 2009 15:12:55 GMT -5
[Not sure what you meant my restrained, so I’m just gonna assume you held his shoulders to keep him from falling]
Once the initial shock of being hit cleared my body stopped shaking and the clarity of my mind returned once more. The M4 was still strapped tightly to my vest, so I turned my attention from safety to nursing my wound. Claypoole had by now taken up guard at the one entrance to the room, so I got to work. The pouch on my thigh was the first thing I went for, and pulled out a small pair of tweezers along with some bandages and a small spray bottle of hydrogen peroxide.
In one of my vest pouches was a signaling mirror, so I grabbed that as well and got to work removing the debris from my eye and surrounding area. Less than five minutes went by, and I was almost finished with the most excruciating of the pain which was the small shards that had landed in my eye. Some I couldn’t possibly get out, but the ones that actually cut my eye were quickly removed.
When I’d finished with my eye, I leaned over on my side and sprayed hydrogen peroxide on the numerous small cuts that covered the area around my eye. Excruciating pain followed, but I clenched my teeth tightly to shut it out. Seconds later, I sat up and wiped away the left over peroxide before applying a small piece of bandage just enough to cover the wounded area on my eye with a bit of medical tape.
After that was finished, I put the supplies away and got myself to my feet, dusting off the shrapnel that had accumulated on the front of my vest, and then brought my M4 to my left shoulder. It wasn’t exactly a new experience firing from my left, as I’d been taught to become ambidextrous with any weapon, but it wasn’t exactly as comfortable as when I aimed right.
“Alright, I patched my wound, let’s get going,” I said simply to Claypoole as I formed up on him at the door.
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Lance
Alive
50%
Posts: 40
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Post by Lance on May 19, 2009 12:36:33 GMT -5
"Lanc and Tyrant have enter triple J broadcast station"
The radio station came into view to Lance, but he wasnt going to take any risks so he stayed on his gaurd so if any zombies were near by he would be ready to put a chunk of lead between their eyes. Tyrant started wineing and growling. So Lance stopped and started looking around. Then he heard faint foot steps coming form behind him. So he turned around quickly and saw a few wandering zombies. Lance knew that the zombies hadnt noticed him yet until Tyrant let out a big bark. Then Lance heard barking in the distence.
He looked and saw three zombie dogs running from behind the wandering zombies. Lance knew from experience that he wouldnt be able to out run the dogs so he started looking around for a high place to climb to, but he didnt see anything. So he knew he had to think of something and fast. So he turned around and took off running from the flesh eaten dogs. Once they got close enough to him he jumped forward and spun around and unloaded the rest of the clip into the zombie dogs killing two but only wounding one. Lance knew in this life wounding didnt matter he had to full out kill them and he didnt have time to reload his Dan Wesson M1911. So he pulled out his AR15 and fired off three rounds killing the dog. Once Lance had killed the dogs he walked quickly over to the radio station once he saw that more zombies were starting to gather so he could warn them of the approuching threat to the building.
Lance walked up to the building and said, "hey any one here. I know theirs a some people here I need some help there are some zombies approuching quickly and Im down to one clip." Lance walked into the radio station and started looking around quickly for any sign of survivors. After a few minutes of searching he said, "forget it ill have to do this my own way." Lance stepped out of the radio station with the sword he found at the police station in his right hand and a combat knife that he found at the pawn shop in his other hand and prepared for the worst."
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