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After watching the spectacular Zeke found himself rather impressed with the daring and completely reckless behavior that led to the annihilation of one of the most secure fortified positions he had seen that wasn't military based.

Zeke assumed that the group had used a decoy or some form of informant to get some rudimentary knowledge of the base of operations. This came to Zeke as a possibility.

"If i follow these people for a long enough time maybe...... just maybe...... i can get more information about what the hell people are going to do in this world." He had seen looters rabid and crazy dogs, and now Neo Nazis that think the world is theirs for the taking.

Zeke did feel better about the 2 guards he had taken out in order to keep one of the assaulting squad from being flanked, he hoped in a sort of heroic way that they found his two kills and figured out they were being helped, but hey can't get everything can you.

As dawn approached and Zeke lay half asleep wondering if they were coming for him now or later, he decided to go and get a closer view of the camp, possibly grab some provisions that no one would miss, crackers, clean water, and maybe some form of protein. As he collected his stuff form the bus he decided that he better double time it just in case they decided to move out earlier than 0600 hours.

Zeke took a clean pace out over the snow covered ground, he hoped and prayed to whatever god did exist, didn't want to anything to do with him.

Lets gets a bus... a BIG yellow bus.

I will write some stuff up tommorow, been away this weekend.

OOC: I like the idea for the bus and hope there will be a couple more posts soon, really liking this forum.

Larry watched Harry kick through the remains of one of the Nazi sleeping dorms, searching through draws, under beds and tearing swastika's down from the walls as he progressed through the room. Watching Harry made Larry feel kind of lonely, with Dave still in the make shift medical ward they had made in one of the largest dorms. There were twenty something survivors from the prison camp the Nazi's had set up. They didnt know what to do with them and with their current leader not well, someone had to take the lead. That someone was Harry, who for the last few days had been directing there small group of surviviors while Dave and a few other innocents, who were captives of the Nazi's, healed up.

(OOC: Is twenty ok? It's a fairly flexible number and strangely enough it's the perfect amount that could fit on a bus with room to sleep and storage. *Hint, Hint, Nudge, Nudge*)

Lord-Loss wrote:Larry watched Harry kick through the remains of one of the Nazi sleeping dorms, searching through draws, under beds and tearing swastika's down from the walls as he progressed through the room. Watching Harry made Larry feel kind of lonely, with Dave still in the make shift medical ward they had made in one of the largest dorms. There were twenty something survivors from the prison camp the Nazi's had set up. They didnt know what to do with them and with their current leader not well, someone had to take the lead. That someone was Harry, who for the last few days had been directing there small group of surviviors while Dave and a few other innocents, who were captives of the Nazi's, healed up.

(OOC: Is twenty ok? It's a fairly flexible number and strangely enough it's the perfect amount that could fit on a bus with room to sleep and storage. *Hint, Hint, Nudge, Nudge*)

I'm sorry to crash the party for the bus, but I'm throwing down my narrartor hammer. If you recall in the first thread, I said cars would be impractical considering all the other stalled vehicles.
Also, I had an idea involving the settlement and the prisoners, in order to keep the rp going with only PC's and enemy NPC's so that it'll run nice and smooth.

I'll try and avoid using my power as narrartor if an idea can feasibly work, but if I believe it nescessary, I will put a stop to something.


Dave groaned as he tried to sit up. Damn, his stomach ached like he'd drunk three kegs of beer and six bottles of tequila.

"Mexico and Ireland are at war, looks like your stomach is the battle ground." He mumbled, and chuckled, despite the pain it caused.

The old Indian woman glanced at him, holding a syringe.

"Don't mind me darling. Just the ramblings of a failed comedian."

She cocked an eyebrow, but let the subject go.

"So, what's the damage doc?" He asked. He had seen the stitches in his tomach, the gauze wrapped about his shoulder. It was redundant, but he needed to ask it nonetheless.

"You recieved five gunshot wounds. Four in the left side of you abdomen, one in your right shoulder, which narrowly missed an artery. You also sustained multiple small
lacerations across your chest, the back of your legs, and your back. Also, your left bicep suffered third degree burns from your Molotov, but probally failed to notice it.
Your treatment, if you want to call it that, will be short, as you have already regained consciousness much sooner then expected."

She spoke fast, and had a trace of an accent. I spaced out on the rest of what she planned to tell me of my recovery program.

"Well thanks for everything Miss, but I gotta go." Dave got up, and swayed slightly.
The indian woman moved towards him, though he pushed her away, and refused the needle.

He found his pack laying against the wall, with his clothes. They had cleaned them as best as possible, though his shirt was now more burgandy then white.
He pulled it on slowly, careful not to agravate his shoulder. When he had his clothes and boots on, he left. Opening a door, he found that they had put him in the back off the mess, erecting a
temporary wall to seperate him from their wounded. He looked at them, many sleeping, a few awake.

They were all thin, eyes sunken deep. Those that were awake were being feed baby food and small cupfulls of water.

He found himself frozen.

What do I say? Don't mind me, I'm just one of three incrediably lucky young men who mounted an assault on your oppressors stronghold to liberate you so that I can feel better about the bad s**t I've done.

He forced himself to walk, and felt the former prisoners eyes on him. He looked down, unable to meet anyone's gaze. He exited through the blasted out front of the mess.

Outside, the cold bit at Dave's uncovered flesh, causing discomfort in his newly scarred bicep. He trudged through the snow, and saw the Zoo.
He found himself drawn there.

He found out why. The Nazis Larry had rounded up where no prisoners in their own prison.

Rage burned inside him.

He stomped back to the mees, found the indian woman helping a patient drink.

"What the hell is wrong with people!" He screamed.

She didn't meet his acusatory gaze.

"You sick, stupid, people." His hands clenched into fists, and he grabbed her by the collar of her shirt.

"Who's idea was it! HUH!? WHO DAMMMIT!!" He shook her violently, and she began to sob.

"What makes you better then them, huh? WHAT!" He stopped, and struggled to catch his breath.

"We thank you for your help, but you are no longer wanted, or needed." He heard a voice say behind him.

"Their ideaology would threaten us for the rest of our lives with no one to stop them. So we took a preemptive strike."

Dave turned, spitting fire as he did so.

"Of Course!! Mankind's oldest woe, the inability to go without commiting violence against his neighbor!"

He recognized the face of the man speaking.

"Rudy?"

"Oh my God..." The man's hand flew to his mouth.

Dave recognized the voice, the eyes.

It was his friends father.

(I'm sorry, I just wanted a way to honor one of my buddies in the thread. Sorry.) Also, I am not yet done, this was just to set up a conflict for tommorow, I'm too tired to kep writng right now.

OOC: so what is going to happen with the Nazis? and do we want to have two groups meet up like Zeke and Daves group or what?

OOC: I dunno. Im in the process of installing the next exciting chapter for my character. First chance ive had to even look at Dakka in days thanks to myself haveing to go to a special weapons school.

More to follow within 24H.

Sorry to those watching the thread, I've been at a bit of a dead zone for this thread. I have the answers to the people who have questions.

@Katavus: In later posts, when it seems like it'd be reasonable for it to happen, it will.

Dave trembled with rage and shame.

Rudy, his best friends father, was standing across from him, AK-47 in hand.

He struggled to prduce words.

"So.... where's the others?" He asked sheepishly.

Rudy faced the same dilema.

"Shakir.... he passed three days before you...." he couldn't finish, tears bubbling up.

Dave felt his rage and shame slowlly fade.

gak. If we'dve sturck sooner, if we'd have taken them out faster He thought.

The voice returned. The one that had motivated him to keep going when he should've laid down and died.

Shut up. That's a load a bull and you know it. If you'd have gone even a second earlier, you'd all be dead. Then who would've freed the prisoners? The recon paid off, though time consuming.
But we both know Shakir didn't go down without a fight. He wouldn't hvae. He was the one who conivnced you to start getting martial arts classes, he would've fought tooth and nail every step of the way against
these feths. Ask him. Get some closure, what little there is to grasp.

"How'd.... how'd.. he go out?" He forced the words out, chokeding on grief.

"He got, he got plugged in the chest. He tore the throat out of one of them, and tried strangling their leader."

"And, and, Tarik and Andrea?" Wetness blurred his vision.

"I don't what happened. The bombs started falling, and Shakir and I woke up at the high school. We only ended up here because we were looking for them." Tears fell down his fcae, he tried to keep sobs from wracking him.

Dave faced the wall. He threw punches at it, feeling his skin bleed, hoping the ache in his bones would overcome the ache in his soul.


*****


Harry stared at the wall. He had taken one of the dorms for himslef, a small one that left him alone with his thoughts.

How the hell do people just kill one another without feeling anything? How does Larry just soldier on? I can't do it. I.... I... took everything that someone had, everything they were, just by squeezing a trigger.

I didn't even have the stones to do it like them. To go straight up, where they could see each other, and put a slug in them. I don't deserve to have survived.

he rolled over, facing the wall, and felt tears flow down his face.

He heard a loud bang, and bolted upright.

Larry had thrown the door open.

"Dave's up!!! He's okay!!" It was the first good news he had heard in weeks. They rushed to the med ward.


*******

Dave and Rudy talked, avoiding the subject of each other's family. He tried to ignore the crude brand they had put on Rudy's forearm.

They talked about what Rudy had meant when he said "The bombs started falling."

"So, someone launched ICBM's, but the nuke didn't go off?"

"Far as anybody can tell. Three of the people who were... survivors, are former military. The indian woman treating you, Dr. Rajesh, she was a doctor for six years in the Navy. The other two were in the Army and Marines.
Our former Army men was an artillery gunner."

Dave saw two shapes run towards the curtain seperating him and Rudy from the rest of the med ward.

Larry leapt, and wrapped his arms around Dave.

"Goddamit!!! Watch the shoulder ass wipe!" Larry jumped away, a sheepish grin on his face.

Harry stood behind him, solemn.

"I'll leave you guys to catch up." Rudy said, and left.

****************


"What're we gonna do about the Zoo?" asked Larry.

"I'll think of something. We could try and rehabilite them, but my guess is most of these people are long time white supremicists, only a few were brain washed.
Those that weren't...... I'll take care of them." Dave answered.

"Take care as in....." he made a gun with his fingers, placed it against his temple.

"If it comes to that, I will do what's necessary." Dave answered.

"How do you do it? How do you just dismiss killing someone, even a skinhead, that easy!?" Harry yelled, the first he had spoken in the hour or two that they had reunited.

"I can't. I will always be haunted by these actions. It wasn't self defense, it was killing, plain and simple. Justified killing, yeah. But killing humans nonetheless.
I'll carry this with me and hate myself for the rest of my life. When I have a chance to reflect on it, that is."


******************


The next morning, Dave looked at a table covered with maps and charts. He was surronded by Rudy, Dr. Melinda Rajesh, Jerry Schwarz, and Jessica Sun, the unofficial council of the survivors.

"The setlement you guys build next should be placed in the woods, preferably nice and deep so that you have plenty of cover and building supplies.
If it's on a hill, even better. You'll also need a nearby source of drinking water that's clean. My suggestion is the North High School, about a three and a half day march in the opposite direction.
The water sources are a lake nearby, a htoel's property, and one that is used by fishermen. Rudy knows whcih I'm talking about. The school is easily defendable, with security cameras that'll work when your rig some
generators. You can use the text books as a firestarter if worst comes to worse. You can use the footbal and field hockey fields to plant crops as well, though that'll have to wait for a few seasons.
You can use the neaby woods to hunt, as there always used to be deer and coyotoes and birds that used the campus as nesting grounds, they prlly over run it now."

For the next hour and a half, Dave and Rudy pointed out why the school was the best bet for the new settlement.

In the end, the deal sealer, was the rifle team. With several goog guns, reliable .22s that Dave had fired, and plenty of ammo, the survivors were going to move their sick and wounded as fats as possible, before the weather got worse.

********************

Dave watched as he saw the survivors move out. They had taken most of the guns, but left Dave, Harry, and Larry with a few older, but still serviceable long rifles.

They had thought long and hard on what to do about the skin heads.

"I'll take care of it." Dave said one night as they bedded down for the last time in the highway settlement.

That night, he cocked the C8. He opened fire on the skinheads in the Zoo.

When they headed out that morning, no one looked at each other. No one spoke. They all had heads down, shame and self loathing in each of them in unhealthy amounts.

They walked through the frozen wasteland for days only stopping to eat and drink, only talking to plot there next move on a map that Dave carried with him.

"Should have stayed with the survivours If you ask me" Grumbled Larry one evening "Thats why no-one asked you" Dave snapped back, while Harry glared at him. He had not forgiven him for executing the skin heads. Dave finally sighed "It's a long way to go and we can't be argueing all the way there, lets just put all the Nazi stuff behind us and start over" Larry grinned showing his agreement, while Harry simply turned his back and contuined eating.


(OOC: We know if EF is going to join in yet?)

Lord-Loss wrote:They walked through the frozen wasteland for days only stopping to eat and drink, only talking to plot there next move on a map that Dave carried with him.

"Should have stayed with the survivours If you ask me" Grumbled Larry one evening "Thats why no-one asked you" Dave snapped back, while Harry glared at him. He had not forgiven him for executing the skin heads. Dave finally sighed "It's a long way to go and we can't be argueing all the way there, lets just put all the Nazi stuff behind us and start over" Larry grinned showing his agreement, while Harry simply turned his back and contuined eating.


(OOC: We know if EF is going to join in yet?)

He shot me a PM saying he wasn't gonna be able to join in for while. I figure we can correct this by him magically "deciding" to join the group of survivors we rescued.

Ahh, I was thinking he could become really dickish but stay in our group, maybe we can meet a group of survivours later on and he can go off with them, then EF can join Harry back with Larry/Dave when he's back.

Lord-Loss wrote:Ahh, I was thinking he could become really dickish but stay in our group, maybe we can meet a group of survivours later on and he can go off with them, then EF can join Harry back with Larry/Dave when he's back.

I was thinking that coupled with the self loathing of killing people, then me just wasting the nazis while you guys were asleep would cause him to rethink his plans, go join up with the other survivors, and then when EF
joins back up, he finds us at a spot we agreed to meet at like "Hill X" or "City Z" or what not.

Zeke had stayed in the surrounding area of the fort for the days after the group had assaulted it. He knew 2 things, first they were successful in their attempt to free whoever was being held captive,

The 2nd thing was confirmed a just a day ago when a large group of people he could only assume were the people who had been at the camp where set free and took off in an east bound direction.

It was then that Zeke had to make a choice to try and join this group and oversee what their plan was or to continue to follow this band of do gooders. He had decided to stay on the trail of the people he had already been following because if they were not going to join the group of people they set free and those people were headed to some form of a settlement then the group that had stayed behind must have knowledge of a better setting, or so he hoped.

The day that followed Zeke was surprised when he woke to gun shots being fired and he quickly looked down the scope of his gun to see the group walking out of the camp in a generally oposite direction from the days earlier group. Now he wondered just what the hell happened in that camp.

As Zeke approached what looked the center of the camp he noticed that in this pit type structure there were about a dozen dead bodies, with nothing but shirts and pants on them, as Zeke looked around he decided that he would give himself 25 minutes to come up with any and all supplies he could find.

After searching he had realized that neither group was coming back so he was only able to find a pair of worn gloves and a bottle of water. Not the greatest find, he said to himself and took off at about a 6 minute mile per hour jog in the direction the last group had walked off in.

Trudge Trudge Trudge Trudge

Approaching the camp was a figure, they strode forwards confidently, through the thick snow, in one hand, a bent iron bar, in the other was a collection of string, rope and barbed wire, that was trailing behind him, dragging the body of a man,

OOC: this is just a nazi that went out huntin' or summit,feel free to kill him, but he's got my character >.>

Larry woke to the sound of crunching snow, someone was clumsily moving towards their camp, dragging something behind them, Larry could only imagine what.
He turned around in his sleeping bag, ready to warn Dave but he was already wide awake, his finger over his mouth in a gesture of silence and his hand clutching his pistol under his sleeping bag. Larry nodded and grasped the sharp wooden knife that Dave crafted for him so many months ago. Larry thoughts drifted back to what occurred with Steve on those nights when Dave was not there.

The grunt of a human and the stopping of the crunching snow made Larry jump into action. He pulled himself off the floor, already in one of the defensive stances that Dave had taught him. He spared a second to glance over to Dave who was already up and pulling his pistol out his belt. “Die you melon-feth--” Dave didn’t complete the sentence, or draw his gun before the strange impostor threw a large bundle at Dave knocking him over and preventing him from firing his weapon. The impostor was on him in a moment, smashing his head against the icy ground, knocking him out. Larry reacted a moment later, with a battle cry he slashed the knife over his opponents ear, who was still leaning over Dave. The knife slashed through his ear easily, sending half of it soaring off into the night.

Roaring in pain the enemy spun around, bringing his arm around and slamming it into Larry stomach with a mighty force. Larry lay face down in the snow, unable to move because of the pain in his stomach, he heard the sound of metal connecting with flesh and a thud sound. He gritted his teeth and turned onto his stomach, expecting to see a large man looming over him with a rusted crowbar in one hand, ready to bring it down on his head.

Instead Larry saw a tall, skinny man covered in cuts and bruises, standing beside the unconscious form of their attacker, who was laying in the snow, he was shirtless and had a huge swastika tattooed on his back. Larry cried in pain and the strange tall said “You ok? He almost had you, good thing I regained consciousness when I hit your buddy huh”


(ooc: Good enough?)

"Gefft tiv muffa fuvva offa me."

Larry and the new arrival heard from underneath the skinheads body.

"Oh Christ!" Larry yelled, and rolled the body over. Dave exhaled deeply, trying to breathe.

He pulled the pistol out, and shot a round into the skinheads head.

Dave stood still for a moment, then holstered the gun.

"I'm Dave, numbnuts over there is Larry. Umm.... under different cicumstances this would be a pleasure. However, as you saved numbnuts ass, would you like some food?" Dave asked, and pulled
can of peaches out.

His eyes were wide. Scared.

"Um.... why not." he said, and introduced himself as Tom.

They shared a small meal of peaches and beans by a their small fire.

Dave offered to keep watch for the night, while Tom and Larry slept.
When both had drifted off into an useasy sleep, Dave searched the skinhead, and knocked Tom out, to do the same.

The skinhead had a lighter and a swiss army knife on him, but was otherwise travelling naked.

Tom didn't have anything on him.

Dave decided that Tom might not be dangerous, but he had learned a harsh lesson because of Steve, and he was damned if he'd repeat it.

Tom woke suddenly. Cold sweat was dribbling from his back, his armpits. He shivered involuntarily, remembering his nightmare. It was too vivid. Too real.

He had been embracing Keira, as before, but suddenly there was screaming all-around. She was grabbed and dragged away, down a hole, a hole in the ground. A monstrous hound, which looked all too familiar, leapt down the closing hole after her. He had heard her screaming.

Yawning stiffly, he clambered to his feet, and began to jog steadily around the camp, and after each lap, he sped up. Larry woke on his 32nd tour of the camp, at which point Tom was going at a breakneck speed, a blur darting around him. After 50 laps, Tom slowed down to a stroll, and chest heaving, sprawled himself in front of the campfire.

“I aint never seen someone run that fast. Ever.” Said Larry, who was tucking into a can of beans.

Tom grinned, showing white teeth. “I work out every day, I like to keep at peek fitness.”

Dave walked past, and, whilst he worked his way through the camp, he asked “which way you headed?”

“Im hoping I’ll find a friend in the DC area. I heard the majority there managed to make it into the shelters before the whole thing kicked off.” Replied Tom, who was now blazing his way through a set of push ups like a piston. “Apparently, Russia started the whole thing. In honesty, I think its bs. The victor writes history, and all that gak. I bet it was some fething American official, who took his job to seriously.”

Noticing his new friends surprised expressions, he paused in his exercise, and elaborated.

“You don’t know what happened? The bomb scares? The assassination plot? C’mon, everyone’s heard the rumours.”

ghosty wrote:Tom woke suddenly. Cold sweat was dribbling from his back, his armpits. He shivered involuntarily, remembering his nightmare. It was too vivid. Too real.

He had been embracing Keira, as before, but suddenly there was screaming all-around. She was grabbed and dragged away, down a hole, a hole in the ground. A monstrous hound, which looked all too familiar, leapt down the closing hole after her. He had heard her screaming.

Yawning stiffly, he clambered to his feet, and began to jog steadily around the camp, and after each lap, he sped up. Larry woke on his 32nd tour of the camp, at which point Tom was going at a breakneck speed, a blur darting around him. After 50 laps, Tom slowed down to a stroll, and chest heaving, sprawled himself in front of the campfire.

“I aint never seen someone run that fast. Ever.” Said Larry, who was tucking into a can of beans.

Tom grinned, showing white teeth. “I work out every day, I like to keep at peek fitness.”

Dave walked past, and, whilst he worked his way through the camp, he asked “which way you headed?”

“Im hoping I’ll find a friend in the DC area. I heard the majority there managed to make it into the shelters before the whole thing kicked off.” Replied Tom, who was now blazing his way through a set of push ups like a piston. “Apparently, Russia started the whole thing. In honesty, I think its bs. The victor writes history, and all that gak. I bet it was some fething American official, who took his job to seriously.”

Noticing his new friends surprised expressions, he paused in his exercise, and elaborated.

“You don’t know what happened? The bomb scares? The assassination plot? C’mon, everyone’s heard the rumours.”

Ohh.... I like that direction for the apoc. . However, I would like to keep it a little mysterious, so lets keep that more as a theory, and less as a fact in the story, lest till I come to an ultimate decision on the apoc.

Dave shook his head.

"If that's so, please, explain why we ain't hear sweet f**k all on the radios we've come across. Tried every bandwith, every frequency, tried ones reserved for air and sea travel. Ain't got dick.
Nothin, from nobody. A few weeks back, we we're travling with an Austrailian guy. he had no idea how the hell he got in the good ole US of A, just that he was. Woke up, alone, in a strange car,
thinking he was in a taxi to the airport to go to London or some s**t. And, of course, there's the matter of Larry and Ste..." Dave dropped off.

"Ste? Who the hell is Ste?" Tom asked.

Larry picked up where Dave left off, knowing the pain and self hate Dave was filled with for being unable to save Steve.

"Steve was a guy we met up with a few months ago. He, uh, he bought the farm. We are... were, both from England. And by your accent, so are you. Any idea how ya got here?"

Tom shook his head.

Dave took over.

"Neither does Larry. Back at a camp we came across, we met a few foriegners, same deal with them. We talked, apparently in Tibet, the Dali Lama began to have inceridble visions of the future,
in India, people began to drop dead right were they stood. In Mexico, well, more people died on the border because of drug trafficers, but these guys were leaving messages, messages scrawled in blood." Dave paused.

"Messages that were no es bueno, bad for la familia's down there. Messages made from the bodies of their enemies. leaders of cartels carved up and killed in the exact smae manner as the apostles.
And all the cartel heads, had the same names as the apostles. Well, a few had the spanish version, but other then that, it was the same."

Tom mulled this thought over.

"Oh, and check this out." Dave pulled off his coat, and stripped his light jacket and shirt. In the months since the apocalypse, the constant moving and act of survival had toned his body up wonderfully. That and generally
not eating the s****y canned food they had. He had grown adapt at hunting rabbits and squirrels using Larry's bow when he slept, finsing the protein more useful. he still ate enough veggis and fruits to keep healthy.

His body was packed with hard muscle. It did not bulge, and in no way constricted his movement and flexibility, for it was not massive like a body builders. The veins and cords stood out as he flexed, and Tom whistled.

"Okay. That's pretty good. What about you Larry?"

Larry blushed. He ahd been heavier and taller then Dave, even before everything, but the apocalypse hadn't been all that nice too him in the realm of fitness.

He stood up, and flexed. His abs did not stand out likes dave, but they were not entirely hidden either. His muscles hid underneath a slight layer of fat, but he was by no means overweight.

"AH HAHAHAH!" Dave began to laugh. Larry and Tom soon joined in. Larry was glad dave had tried to shift focus away from Steve.

For the next hour or so, they tried to prove who was better in various skills. Dave could do more pullups, situps, and climb faster, but Tom could do more pushups, run faster, and jump higher.
Larry could run the longest, do more squats, and hold his breath longer.

When they were done, they smiled at each other. The group exercise had been good, it had relieved alot of tension they hedn't felt being built up.

Dave had sudden burst of inspiration. He had seen something locked away inside a branch that he had seen before.

"You guys take a break. I got something I gotta do." Dave left, with his knifes, the sldge hammer, and his pistol.

He returned about a half hour later, a carved staff, five feet long, to give to Tom.

"I gave one to Larry, but he busted iut, so I made it into a knife. Harry had one too." Tom looked at it.

The wood was slightly damp from sap, but otherwise in perfect condition. He rolled it over a few times, examining it. he found a little carivng near the bottom and top.
He laughed. It was a Nike symbol.

Dave procede to show Tom a few techniques about how to place the staff in fight, using it to quickly strike and then recover to defend.

"Thanks." He spoke. Dave said no problem.

They set out, but Dave was not at ease. The news of some assination plot hung heavy on his mind, and he was determined to find out what had happened, and why.

He'd be damned if anybody got in his way, even his new found traveling companion.

They walked the entire day, even going into the night at Dave's urging.

"I don't trust it. I think it's the packs again."

"Christ, we never get a break do we!"

"Well, t's gotten warmer at least." Dave pointed out. Even at night, it was warm now. The wind had stopped blowing, and the snows had started to melt fast.

Just then it started to rain.

They stopped, looked at Dave.

"Feth..... me... in... the...ass." He whispered.

What state are we in?

And what time of year?

What year? 2011?

Lord-Loss wrote:What state are we in?

And what time of year?

What year? 2011?

It is still 2010, though the season is starting to shift from winter to spring. Right now, we've just crossed the border into New jersey.
Right now we're in Sussex County.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:New_Jersey_Counties_by_metro_area_labeled.svg

As it rained for the third consecutive hour in a row Zeke thought that he would take his chances and shorten the distance between him and his objective, his rational was that with the rain the loss of vision and and low visibility could really be a down fall.

Just as it was about to get to be dusk Zeke thought he heard a howl or a growl of some kinda and spun on the spot for a 180 degree turn to see 2 men with 3 large dogs racing across the very small field that he had just passed through.

His mind immediately went to survival mode, he had a half empty clip which gave him 7 rounds in his dragunov, and the dogs where about 250 meters away and closing which game him roughly 4 seconds to take 2 extremely well placed shots on low to the ground high speed animals and then draw his hand gun for the third dog.

As he dropped to his knee to take aim for the first shot a split thought went into his head and for a brief moment Zeke thought that he could actually do this and be okay. A

The first shot went just an inch from its intended target as he had not fully come to a resting set position and struck the first large black dog in the upper right should muscle, for the looks of it he had bough himself maybe 45 seconds for that single target.

His next shot however was exactly where he had planned on it going straight center mass between the shoulder blades of the black dog, knowing that it was a kill shot he dropped the rifle to swing to his side and draw his side arm the browning as he took in what had unfolded the third and what seemed like the largest dog was within lunging range when Zeke fired 2 shots into the dogs head.

When Zeke dropped to the ground hearing what he thought where shots coming from the 2 large men he wondered what that third dog was doing, he had hoped that it was smart and going some where other than close to him.

As Zeke took to one knee to get a better view of the surrounding in the meadow in the rain it was difficult to see past 300 meters but what didn't make sense was that he couldn't see the two men.

"This is bad, this is very bad, either they where a scouting party or know where i am and are waiting for me to make my move, well no time like the present" Zeke thought as he army crawled over to a thick piece of grass. "Time to set up shop and see who comes knocking" he thought to himself. "Man i need a better slogan for myself if this is going to become a routine" he thought.

Name: david jones (nickname: church )
Age: 29
Physical fitness: shaven head, a slight beard, medium build, average ordinary man, 6 foot 5.
Abilities: good with knives, a few years experiance hunting, ( he used to hunt animals such as deer, stag and whatever other animals you can hunt )
Inventory: plain white T-shirt, sleeveless camo jacket, blue jeans, an old whinchester pump action rifle, with 50 rounds for it, and a racer gun, 10 clips holding 17 rounds each. (yeah, he is slightly old fashioned, he likes the old style guns, small bullets, big guns)

can i join in?

@shas'o vera: Sounds like a pretty good character, though I'm not sure what a racer gun is. Could you elaborate for me? Just don't wanna give you a BFG and win the story, ya know?

Dave heard the shots first. He yelled and dropped to the ground, on his belly. He drew his P2000 and Lupara in a fluid motion as he fell. The others followed suit.
After a few minutes of not hearing any more shots, Dave got up. The gun fire had come from less then half a mile away to the west, in a stretch of field they had ben travelling parallel to.

He got up, and slid his Lupara back into his belt.
"Let's get to some shelter. We need to get outta the rain." Dave said. The others nodded agreement, and followed Dave as he took to travelling in against the right hadn guard rail of the freeway.

After twenty minutes, Dave found what he was looking for: A suburb. Dave vaulted over the guard rail, and helped the others do so. The hill leading down to the suburb was steep and slick with rain.
Dave walked down, picking his steps carefully. Larry wasn't. He slipped, and Dave felt him barrel into the backs of his knees. They slid down, cursing and flailing.

When they reached the bottom, they heard Tom laughing his ass off.

Dave fixed Larry with a murderous gaze.
"From now on, when we go down a hill, I'm gonna push you down and see if we get lucky and you hit a land mine on the way down."

"I'm sorry?" Larry tried.

They picked themselves up, and made sure all their equipment was alright. After that, they followed Dave as he searched for a good house to hunker down in.
He chose one on a dead end street, whose backyard lead into the woods, for an easy escape.

Dave held his Lupara in his left hand, P2000 in the other. Larry held the C8 behind him, and Tom gripped the .32 revolver, reluctantly, in his hands.

Dave kicked the door open, and dove inside, coming up in a crouch.
Nobody was there.

"Was that really necessary?" Larry and Tom asked.
"100% necessary." Dave replied. They searched the house quickly and quietly, looking for anybody. They found nothing.

The house was two floors, with steps leading to the second floor in the front of the house. Acroos from the hall in the second floor, was a window that somebody could look through.
They found a ladder and Dave climbed it, tacking up a blanket he had found to cover the window. no prying eyes would see inside there.

After making a few minor preperations to add some defensive barricades, they set about finding supplies. What Dave found in the basement was a veritable gold mine.

Pistols, sights, silencers, boxes of ammo, rifles, shotguns, assualt rifles, hunting guns, knives, cleaning kits, binocs, clothes, MRE's.

"Crazy survivalist feth..." Dave whishpered. He looked at the weapons. The shotguns caught his eye. A Remington was what he was drawn to.
He lifted it up, feeling it's weight, and got into a shooting stance. It felt good in he hands. He called the others down, and Larry got giddy with excitement. Tom, less so.

Still, they sorted through the guns, looking for the best all rounders. In the end, Dave took the shotgun, a pistol grip and flashlight accesory for it, and two boxes of ammo.
Larry selected a Beratta 92, and three boxes of ammo.
Tom took .22 hunting rilfe with a scope, and one box of ammo.

When they had gotten their weapons, Dave made a small fire. They set their clother near it to dry off, and took a few of the other clothes they found downstairs.

When the other slept, Dave kept watch. he heard dogs barking, and the sounds of fighting outside. He cast a look at his companions, and felt a pang of guilt.

They had become like family after he had seen his own dead. he didn't want to see them hurt, but he knew he would kill them if they held him down.

And he hated himself for it.

OOC: a racer gun is a handgun with a ammo clip of 17 rounds, it is designed so that the bullets have a chance of bouncing off walls, it rarely happens though

shas'o vera wrote:OOC: a racer gun is a handgun with a ammo clip of 17 rounds, it is designed so that the bullets have a chance of bouncing off walls, it rarely happens though

Eh... why not. You're in.

On Topic:

Dave searched the house during his watch. He found several lengths of tubing, and caps. He also saw fuses.

"Aw shee-it!" he breathed. The person who had lived here had been into making pipe bombs. Well, he might as well take them now. he found several completed ones, with nails strapped to them for shrapnel damage.
Dave removed the nails, as he couldnt see why they'd need to takle out large groups. He thought back to the camp, and reconsidered. In the end though, he felt better without nails.

Dave made a few more to the best of his abilities, by looking at the partially completed pipe bombs.
That morning, they ate a breakfast of canned soup. Dave had filled their water bottles with boiled water. it was strange tasting, but it was better then dehydrating. They set out after Dave split the fifteen pipe bombs amoungst them. The rain had slowed down, and it was humid. Bugs flew around them, and they constantly swatted them away.

By the end of the day, they had all been biten several times, and were uncomfortable. Dave found them some citranelle, and they carried it with them the next three days.

As they crested a hill, Dave saw a familiar town.

"YES!!" Dave screamed. "My aunt lived here! I know this place, inside and out!"

Name: Elric 'Fletcher' Bielski
Age: 24
Physical Characteristics/Abilities:6"1 Green eyes, shoulder length brown hair, thick stubble, scarring above left eye.
Guitarist, lock-picker, adept stick fighter, general knowledge.
History: Born in Detroit, Michigan. Family killed in fire apart from older sister Rosa at age 2. Raised in orphanage until age 16. Left for Boston in 2008.
After APOC travelled south with guitar singing to groups of survivors for scraps. Crippled left leg two months ago, limps south to Pittsburgh to search for Rosa.

The dull pain continued in his thigh, but at least it reassured him that he was still alive. Fletcher leaned against a lamp post, his grey duster sweeping along the ground.
The tapping of his crutches on the concrete were enough to form a rhythm to and he limped along to it. The antique guitar case slapped against his back and the makeshift spear jabbed into his ass, but he was happy. He had done it. After that hellhole once called New York, he had crossed the border into New Jersey. Only two state lines to go...

Dude, this chapter is over.

Check the other one.