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Larry was outside the Bakery, he could hear talking inside. "What If its that killer in there" he though "What if it isnt?".

Larry sighed and took the baseball bat in both hands, he had grabbed the bat from 'Sports Zone' on the way here. Taking a deep breath, he ran at the door, yanking the handle hard, Larry was suprised that it was unlocked. He raised the bat above his head and screamed at the top of his lungs, before charging into the Bakery and whatever awaits inside.

OOC: Go ahead guys, this your chance to beat the gak outta me

Emperors Faithful wrote:OOC: Is your name in this thing Ghosty or Steve?

Harry shook his head. "Serves you right, mate. Who the hell wears a gas-mask and all that crap without wanting to look like some sort of pysco? There's nothing wrong with the air is there?"

Harry took a deep sniff and wrinkled his nose, rolling his eyes. "Apart from the smell of piss and blood."

He looked at the wound in Steve's gut. "Oh sh**. That looks bad. We're gonna need to get you fixed. Here let me..." Harry had taken enough First Aid lessons so that he knew what he was doing, and he adjusted the bandage securely. "That won't do though. The wound may get infected and without meds, mate, you'd be pretty fethed."

Harry turned to Dave. "You said that there were dru-I mean, medicine in Philly's place, right? We'll need to get this fella over there." Harry puased. "Who is Philly anyway?"

*FACEPALM*

Philly is short for Philadelphia. It's not a person. Thought that was clear when i stated you could not start off in Philladephia.

Lord-Loss wrote:Larry was outside the Bakery, he could hear talking inside. "What If its that killer in there" he though "What if it isnt?".

Larry sighed and took the baseball bat in both hands, he had grabbed the bat from 'Sports Zone' on the way here. Taking a deep breath, he ran at the door, yanking the handle hard, Larry was suprised that it was unlocked. He raised the bat above his head and screamed at the top of his lungs, before charging into the Bakery and whatever awaits inside.

OOC: Go ahead guys, this your chance to beat the gak outta me

I notice people seem to be gravitating towards instantly meeting up with one another. Not to be a dick, but where in the hell are you?

Anyways, onto story.

Dave's head snapped to look at the new figure who'd just charged in.

"Aw what the f*ck not!" He complained.

The guy's momentum carried him farther inside, close enough to hit. Dave threw a straight punch to the mans face. He dropped, blood streaming from his nose.

"This is the third time in twenty four goddam hours I've had to beat the gak outta someone!" he yelled.

The man on the floor who'd worn a gask mask, Ghosty he said his name was, stirred.

"You didn't beat me. You stabbed me by accident." He lay back down, holding his injured side.

The man on the floor groaned, but stayed still otherwise. Yup. Dave had put him down for a little while.

"And no way we can all get to Philly on just my bike. Not even with side cars." He stared off into the distance, thinking.

Harry spoke up, still applying pressure to Ghosty's wound.

"And what do we do with him. He's in no condition to move with this bleeding."

Dave groaned, andn reached into his pockets. Out came two .22 shells, and his lighter.

he prepared to cauterize Ghosty's injury.

Harry grabbed his wrist.
"What do you think your doing? That will solve nothing."

"It'll stop the bleeding for a while, till we can get to the city and patch him up there stupid. Got any better ideas?" Dave retorted.

"Yeah, I do. Sew it up."

Dave laughed, and shook his head.
"If I had any to use, don't you think I would have done that already? Why'd you think I use MY precious ammo to save you?"

Harry barred his teeth.

"You wanna go aagin a$$whole? I'm all ready."

"And I'll slice open your other wrist, or maybe just kill you and be done with it. How bout that?"

Dave and Harry stood across from each other. Harry's muscles were tense, and he breathed heavily as he tried to decide what to do. Dave rolled his shoulders and
drew his knife, while loosing the cath on his other, hidden weapon. Harry relaxed, and spoke.

"How far is this Philly guy's house? Maybe we can make it."

Dave laughed, deep from his belly.

"Philly's a place, not a person. It's two hours by car, with good traffic. And it's anything but that. A hunert and ten miles to the city.
And we'd be bogged down carrying sh*theads One and Two." he gestured at the bodies lying on the ground.

"Alright, no need to yell. Not my fault I didn't know."

"Jeezus H. Christ! You come to the States, and you don't even bother to learn about the area you're in. Good job Crocadile Dundee!"

The man on the ground rolled onto his stomach. And talked.

"What the hell hit me? A train?"

Dave and Harry looked at him, and then groaned. Hopefully th man wouldn't need any medical aide.

OOC: I realised. I don't much care for knowing the states of the US (about as much as you care of the difference between Queensland, NSW and Victoria) and I figured I'd set up a good private joke by demonstrating my lack of Yankee knowledge.

(BTW, with no one around, wouldn't it be VERY good traffic? )

I'm not sure what to write without dramatically advancing the story, so I'll leave that to you, mate.

GES: We need to move in groups of two or more.

I dont want to be alone either, and we have a serial killer on the loose.

Emperors Faithful wrote:OOC: I realised. I don't much care for knowing the states of the US (about as much as you care of the difference between Queensland, NSW and Victoria) and I figured I'd set up a good private joke by demonstrating my lack of Yankee knowledge.

(BTW, with no one around, wouldn't it be VERY good traffic? )

I'm not sure what to write without dramatically advancing the story, so I'll leave that to you, mate.

Cars stopped dead in the street for miles and miles and miles. Therefore, bad traffic.

Hang on, cars stopped dead, but no bodies? How does the even make sense?!?

EMP? If so, why does you bike still work?

Emperors Faithful wrote:Hang on, cars stopped dead, but no bodies? How does the even make sense?!?

EMP? If so, why does you bike still work?

Have you never whatched/read stuff about the apoc? there is always a scene with cars stopping traffic for miles. And you guys were the ones who kept putting bodies everywhere!

The bike works cause it's stolen.

Also, does anything I do make sense. Probally not.
By joining in on this game, you make a contrack to accept the world you enter, regardless of how crazy it is.

In all serousness, I'll fix these problems in a later post. So tired right now.

K!

ooc: well my nicknames ghosty (irl on account to my pale skin and near white blonde hair) but my names steve. soooo....yup

But have you got some sort of personality disorder? Cos you're refering to yourself as both...

Emperors Faithful wrote:But have you got some sort of personality disorder? Cos you're refering to yourself as both...

And that's what makes it so fun. If he did in game, that presents number of stroytelling opportunities.

but only if ghosty wants it.

Ah...so becuase Ghosty is insane in RL we can say he's super-crazy in the game?

Emperors Faithful wrote:Ah...so becuase Ghosty is insane in RL we can say he's super-crazy in the game?

Just as long as he Ok's it.

Of course, he'll just deny that he's insane at all. While acting insanely...

ok back with the story

Dan knew he had to find others he had to and the closest place he was sure of was monroe.
He had seen survivors in monroe he hoped it was one of is friends he knew it was about 5
miles to where he saw the lights.......

Vulkan_He'stan wrote:ok ill start again in Northampton as ive met two peple

as dan awoke he could smell blood, and lots of it. he looked round
he couldnt see any thing but blood and rubble. he could feel a pain in his leg
owww his hobby knife he pulled it out . hmmm no blood he thought to him self.
then he looked inside the wound the blood had clotted so he must have been
out for a while.
he pocketed the knife, a flask of water, some super glue and his PSP and got out of the rubble
he thought to himself why couldn't I be back in England?

Dan went down to the shooting range to se what weapons he could find
when he reached the shooting range he found a MK.23 and 10 rounds.....

Where the heck am I? (Other than Northampton)

insane? ok im a bit on the mad side IRL but.....yes...i like the idea of being slighty scitso...

ghosty is the aggressive side

Steve the normal ^^

lotsa possibilities for this XD

I know it's been a while, but I wanted to make sure the next post would explain all the problems perfectly.

Dave pulled Harry aside, into the living room of the house to speak to him..

"Listen, if we don't get him some meds soon, he's a dead man. And not the good kind, where he passes quickly and quietly. The kind where he makes
a crapload of noise and holds on for goddamn ever. I can get him some medicine to stave off the infection that's gonna come from the wound, but it'll just come back.
I need you to stay here and watch over him while I get the supplies from the local hospital. If I don't, he'll never hold on till Philly."

Harry grabbed his shoulders and angrily shook him.
"How can I trust you to come back? How do I know you're not just gonna run off, and wait till we all die! And beside, if all we need is to raid this hospital to save him,
why don't we, then book it?"

"There won't be enough meds. Chances are it's already been raided. Besides, I could've killed you all when Imet you, no problem. You know what, to prove I'm gonna come back, take this."

Dave unstrapped his sheath, and haned the KA-BAR over to Harry.

"It was my Grandpa's. The run for the meds will only take a day, maybe a day and a half."

Dave aboutfaced, and prepared to leave. Harry grabbed him, turned him around, and hit him with a thunderous right cross, taking Dave by surprise.

"That's for screwing with me earlier. If you ever try anything like that agin, I'll gut you while you sleep."

Dave grinned, and felt his lip. It was bleeding. He licked it, and stepped into the foyer, where Ghosty lay. Larry was hovering over him, holding a gauze pad on the wound.
Dave turned back, and spoke to Harry again.

"And make sure Lar doesn't do anything stupid. Like, anything."

Dave left, and got on the dirt bike.

"How the hell does that thing even work, by the way!" Harry yelled.

"I stole it. The reason nothing works is because nobody can use them. It's very simple idiot."

Dave gunned the throttle, and headed north.

The wind bit at his naked arm. He wished he'd put on his jacket.

He looked at the street signs, trying to remeber where the hospital was. He saw the old colledge campus, and knew he was close.
He stopped the bike, and stashed it behind a bush. The cars were too thick to manuever through anyway. He approached the ER entrance. It was dark.
He wouldn't be able to see insidewithout a light.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the Scripto. He flicked it open, the flame came on, and he advanced inside. The doors slid open, scaring
him. Some of the power was till on. He entered the waiting room. Bodies lay decomposing on the ground and in seats. Some
with nurse scrubs and doctors lab coats on. Dave moved towards one. He rolled it over, to look at the face and ID card.

He looked away. It was his old doctor, Dr. Baghat. He grimly took the ID card and the pen light from the old man's coat pocket.

The sign on the wall said the pharmacy was located in the west wing. Dave grew increasingly paranoid that someone was watching or following him.

Dave knelt, and pretended to tie his sneaker. He really drew the other knife he had. A bayonet his grandfather had also gifted to him. He reached the door that
lead to the west wing. It required an ID card or a nurse to push a button and allow it to open. He slid Baghat's ID.
The door unlocked, and Dave rushed inside. He slammed the door closed, and sank against the wall.

He heard scratching sounds on the door, and began to shake. He slosed the lighter, and stayed absolutely still. The scratching slowly died away.
Dave gathered his courage, and advanced without light, using the wall as a guide. He turned a corner and flicked the light on again. The pharmacy was right
there. He dived over the counter, and hid under it.

Oh God he was scared, so Goddam scared. How he wanted a drink then, something to steady his nerves.
He breathed heavily, and once again got up. The light came on, and he begin frantically looking for Penacillin and Morphine. He found a few pills that would take care of infection, barely enough to last a week. He found three OxyCodone pills.

"It'll do. Now how do I get out without that thing finding me?" Dave whispered aloud.

Suddenly he heard chuffing, then a snarl. He slowly turned, feeling hungry eyes size him up. Beads of sweat trickled down his spine and into his eyes.
He blinked them away, and felt warmth run down his leg. The light from the lighter fell on his soon to be attackers. His eyes popped wide. The sight was terrifying
in its intensity.

The shape barrelled into him, tacking him down.

He felt as the jaws locked on his left forearm. The lighter slid away.


And Dave screamed.




Harry used the time that Dave was gone to look around the house and take stock of suplies. He raided the pantry and found moldy bread. He tossed it
into a garbage can. He looked in the bathrooms for medicine cabinets. He found nothing.

Larry wandered into the living room and looked for something to do. He found a magazine rack, but they were all Marie Clarie.
Even in the apocalypse, he had standards. Instead, he replayed the first encounter of him and Dave.

He tried to remember what had happened. He sw dave 's arm stick out, and clothesline him. How he'd then hit him with a straight punch,
knocking him to the ground where he hit his head and passed out. He'd acted so fast... faster then anybody he'd ever seen. He had to be
on speed or something to move that fast. No normal person could hit that hard, and hit the fast.
Larry obsessed over it,. He decided he'd watch Dave very closely. If need be, he's slot Dave like without a second thought. if he could beat him to the punch, that is.

Harry grew impatient. It'd been two days. Two long days. Larry was starting to break into a fever. It wasn't looking good. Dave should have been back by now.

"Ah, feth it." He swore, scrutinasing the KA-BAR (is that a knife?) closely. "Grandfather's relic, my arse. Either he's dead or he's ditched us."

Larry groaned. "Well. What do we do now?"

Harry shrugged. "We gotta get you to that hospital. Buggered if I know how though."

Larry rose, clutching his head. "I-I have an idea. My cousin, he has...had...an auto-repair shop. It was for heavy duty stuff, like big riggs and tractors. Something there should still be working." (Made that up completely. Is that Ok?)

Harry nodded thoughtfully, pointed at Larry's wound. "That could work. But can you drive like that?"

"...can you drive?"

"...is it an automatic?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"AAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHH!!!!" Harry screamed as the big rig thundered along the road, swerving side to side as it attempted, and failed, to avoid the immobile cars before it.

*SLAM*
A beautiful Astin Marton fell victim to Harry's reckless driving.

"I thought you could said you could fething drive!" Yelled Larry.

"And I thought you said this was a fething auto-matic!" Harry shouted back.

*SLAM*
A lovely Porsche was cast aside, ruined.

Larry moaned weakly, leaning against the passenger door. "How long till we get there...?"

*SLAM*
A Ferrari bit the dust. It almost seemed that Harry was aiming for nice cars.

Harry laughed. "At this rate, mate? A couple of hours." He looked concernedly at the fella next to him. "Hang on, alright mate? ...Just hang on."

Steve woke up again. the stench of motor oil was all around. He looked up through his one eye and surveyed his surroundings. He was in a vehicle of some type. On either side of him, was Harry, and someone who, he wasnt able to identify. It certainly wasnt Dave.

"wheres that knife weilding fether?" Steve asked muzzily.
"He went to the hospital alone to get some meds." said Harry, who turned, looking away from the road to check him over. he peeled back the bandage on Steve's stomach, and made a soft whisteling noise. "hey Larry, where did you say this hospital is?"

The unknown person, who Steve guessed must be Larry motioned to take a left down the street they had just raced past. Harry braked hard, turning the vehicle at the same time, causing the rig to spin and drive back down the road too the junction. They turned down it and sped down the road. Steve remembered something.

"Hey, you said he went alone?"
Larry turned "yeah what about it?"
"Im sure you guys have noticed that when your alone in this city, you feel like your being watched by somthing.
Primal instinct takes over when your alone. When i grabbed my equipment from a warehous, something was in there with me. I swear iv'e been stalked ever since ive been here."
Harry laughed nervously "your just being paranoid"

something deep in Steves consciousness stirred.

They slowed in front of the ER. Everyone bundeled out, and moved towards the hospital. Steve, Harry had noticed, had been quiet after his brief paranoia. and he refused help, instead walking slowly and confidently, gripping his hammer, and looking around with his one good eye.
"This place is pitch black inside, get the floodies out of the back" larry called. Soon all three were gripping large floodlights and were staring into the reception. The stench on corpseflesh rotting washed over them. Harry spat up bile, whereas larry began to shake slowly. Steve, started to walk inside.

Meanwhile, something watched from nearby amongst overturned bins and a derelict garbage truck.

OOC: that can be anything from a dog to a weird thing of any type to dave if you want just no one noticees it at all....gottit?

OOC: Wow, wow, wow. Where the feth did Steve come from?!? Was he hiding in the back? I'm so confused!

Nevermind, I keep getting Larry and Steve mixed up. (rolls eyes) Can we do a sitrep?

Who's injured? Who's got weapons?

Harry: Slight burn, few cuts and bruises, nothing major. Weapon is my ornamental arab knife and Dave's KA-BAR. (Which he left behind) Other than that I have nothing on me.

Emperors Faithful wrote:Nevermind, I keep getting Larry and Steve mixed up. (rolls eyes) Can we do a sitrep?

Who's injured? Who's got weapons?

Harry: Slight burn, few cuts and bruises, nothing major. Weapon is my ornamental arab knife and Dave's KA-BAR. (Which he left behind) Other than that I have nothing on me.

To answer a question, yes, the KA-BAR is a weapon. It's a trench knife used by the NAvy and Marines, also available for civillian purchase.

Larry is Lord-Loss, Steve/Ghosty is ghost, Dave is GES, Harry is You.

Larry: Black eye, bruise on back of head from getting clothelined followed by getting cold cocked by Dave. Baseball bat for weapon.

Steve/Ghosty has a deep cut, several smaller cuts on his arms, and can't see out of one eye. 10 pound sledge, gasmask.

Dave: Status: Unknown. Is he alive? Dead? Being forced to watch Twilight by a sadistic bastard left over from the apoc? Oh, it's so exciting!

Really: Sprained ankle, five long slashing cuts on stomach, bite wounds on left thigh, torn open left bicep, definate infection, fever slowly building.

Has: Penlight and ID badge taken from a doctor, bayonet that he hid from Harry, a week's worth of Penacillin and three OxyCodone pills.

Onto Story.

The fight lasted two minutes. To Dave, it felt to be two hours. The creature leapt onto him, it's jaws locking down, biting into his soft skin.
He stabbed with the bayonet, but there was no power behind it. It barely nicked the dog-demon thing. It began to shake it's head, tearing up his body.
Dave forced himself to concentrate, and stabbed again. The dog-demon yelped. The knife found it's eye. The jaws released, and Dave forced himself to his feet.

They circled, waiting for the other to make a move. Dave began to taunt it.

"C'mon Cujo, what you got? C'mon, motherf**ker, get some bitch. I got seven inches of American steel to put you down. C'mon, Cujo!"

It leapt. Dave twisted his body at the hip. He raised the knife. "Cujo" hit his right arm this time, and he felt something pop as he fell to the ground.
But when he hit, nothing happened. He turned, and saw "Cujo" had decided to put more iron into his diet.

"More like steel. I think you might be allergic to it, bitch." Cujo had landed, mouth first, on his knife. Dave lay still, and passed out.

When he came too, it was a day later. His body ached, and his cuts had finally stopped bleeding. He pulle out the pen light, and looked for his Scripto.
When he found the lighter, he put it in his pocket. He limped, wincing with each step. He felt as though he'd been in an ankle lock for six hours.

Dave slowly made it back to the ER wing. He tore through cabinets and drawers, looking for a morphine needle. He finally found one, on Baghat.

"Thanks man. Also, i don't think I'll be able to make that appointment next month. Sorry, can we reschedule?"

Dave sat against the wall, and prepared to put the needle into his arm. He remembered all the times his friends had joked he'd had perfect heroin veins.
He didn't even have to do much to get them to pop out. He flewed a few times, and then he found one.

"Please God, don't let this be something like a flu shot."

Dave poked it into his arm. He pressed the head down, and he felt the pain killer flood him. Before he realised what happened, he passed out again.

When he regained his senses, Dave heard the sound of a big rig. A really really big rig. Thinking quick, Dave got up, and limped away. He found the supply closet, filled with scrubs and a few packages of gauze and two rolls of medical tape.

Changing his bloodied jean into scrubs, he grabbed the pills fromit, and put them in one of the gauze boxes.

He heard voices approaching, and listened intently. It was Harry, Lar, and Steve!

He pushed the door open and appeared before them. Their flashlights stung his eyes.

"Goddam it guys, turn those off. You're harshing my afterglow." Two turned off, and he could see. Steve was using his sledge as a sort of cane.
Larry spoke up first.

"I knew you were a speed freak! That's what this was all about! Scoring one final hit, one last bit o E!"

"Relax numbnuts. You obviously survived the apoalyupse, but your humor didn't. I passed out after falling down a flight of stairs and sprained my ankle.
I spent the night here cause i couldn't walk. Harry, bring Steve here so I can give him his pills."

The group walked twards him, and Steve held out his hand.

"I don't got any water, so you're gonna need to go with out." Steve took the Penacillin and Oxycodone, swalllowed them, and shivered.

"Follow me. We need to pick you up a cane or something" Dave said.

Harry saw him limp, and realised it might not be entirely for Ghosty's benefit.

When the found some crutches, they took them and left.

As steve slowly climbed into the truck to avoid exaccerbating his wound, Harry pulled Dave aside to talk to him.

"How bad is it? How long do you think you can keep up the facade of confidence and immortality to keep us going before you fall down, dead?" He asked angrily.

"It's not that bad. The cuts have healed, they aren't infected, and I took a shot of morphine to take away the pain.
My ankle is the only thing that's badly hurt. It'll heal, is just need some time."

"Oh bollocks. You're in a bad way, we both know it. Now answer my questions."

Dave sighed, and spoke yet another white lie.

"It's just a little bit sore. As long as I keep it wrapped up tight and take an anti inflammatory, it'llbe fine.
As for the second one......

We'll just have to wait and see? Besides, what have you done to inspire the others?" Dave retorted.

"Inspired! Inspired! You idiot! Kicking our asses hasn't inspired us! It's put us in this mess!" Harry hissed, his voice venomous.

"But we're still holding together, right? As long as we do that, we can make it to Philly. We patch oiurselves up, and then we split up. At that point, I don't care.
Listen, just trust me, do as I say, and we can make it out of this mess. I believe with every iota of my being, that we can make it."

Harry looked away, angry and confused. The bastard had a way with words. he put so much of his energy into simple words and made them... something more.

"Which way to Philly?" He grimly spoke.

"First, I need some pants. And you guys, need winter clothes." Dave headed towards the stashed bike, and remarkably, found it untouched.

He nimbly wove through the streets of the town till he found the store he needed. The Sports Outfitter was unlight, but untouched.
As he got off the bike, he walked towards the now stopping big rig. It crashed into the front of a nearby building.
Harry sheepishly got out, flashlight in hand.

"Get the sledge to." Dave called. Harry did, and trotted over to him.

Taking it, he spun, and threw it right through the door. Harry pushed it open.

"It wasn't locked stupid." He stated bluntly.

"But it's much more dramatic." Dave came in, and took hold of the hammer again.

He went to the back of the store, and smiled as his penlight lit the displays up. Handguns, rifles, semi automatic weapons, shotguns, and knives.
He brought the hammer down, and cracked open the case that held a Heckler and Koch P2000. He took it, and looked for keys to pop the trigger guard.
When he did, he immediately took a box of ammo and found some spare magazines. He knew Harry was looking at him.

"Just a little insurance. In case we meet anybody... less then civil. He picked up a USP, found it's key, and popped the guard on it.
He tossed it to Harry, along with a mag and bullets. A few seconds later, he heard a click, and Harry spoke.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't pump you full of lead."

Dave rose, set his gun on the counter, and put his hands up. He tried to think of something, anything, but his tongue wouldn't work.

Harry cocked it.

Harry grinned, and passed it back to Dave.

"I'll tell you. It's becuase I don't know how to use the fething thing. Use it yourself. Just don't let them see it. I'm not sure I trust those two just yet." He motioned over to where Steve and Larry were.

"Yet you trust me just fine?" Dave laughed.

"I think you're a douche to be honest. But there are worst things than your insane ass out here." Harry pointed at Dave's wounds. "And they obviously don't like you very much. What the feth did that to you anyway?"

Steve Leaned heavily against the side of the rig, breathing was hard. he peered at his injury through his bandage, and was greated with a sickly fetid smell. It made him retch. refastening the bandage, Steve closed his eyes and let his thoughts melt away. Then something reared its head in his mind.
"Nice cut on your face, looks like you cant see."
Steve was thrown by this completetly. He swore he hadnt thought that. Why would he? Who said it then?
"Names Ghosty. Apparently you cant remember who you were. That puts me at an advantage over you."
Steve started to tremble. This is not normal.
"Of course its not you weak gakker, your mad, a scitzo. Paranoid. Insane. Whatever you wanna call it. You woke up in a bloody assylum."
Steve clutched his head and sunk to his knees. He wasnt going mad. He couldnt. Too much was at stake here.

Golden Eyed Scout wrote:
To answer a question, yes, the KA-BAR is a weapon. It's a trench knife used by the NAvy and Marines, also available for civillian purchase.

Larry is Lord-Loss, Steve/Ghosty is ghost, Dave is GES, Harry is You.

Larry: Black eye, bruise on back of head from getting clothelined followed by getting cold cocked by Dave. Baseball bat for weapon.

Steve/Ghosty has a deep cut, several smaller cuts on his arms, and can't see out of one eye. 10 pound sledge, gasmask.

Dave: Status: Unknown. Is he alive? Dead? Being forced to watch Twilight by a sadistic bastard left over from the apoc? Oh, it's so exciting!

Really: Sprained ankle, five long slashing cuts on stomach, bite wounds on left thigh, torn open left bicep, definate infection, fever slowly building.

Has: Penlight and ID badge taken from a doctor, bayonet that he hid from Harry, a week's worth of Penacillin and three OxyCodone pills.

Dan; pistol bandages and afew bits of food(you left me out

also who is where?
im going to monroe

Vulkan_He'stan wrote:

Golden Eyed Scout wrote:
To answer a question, yes, the KA-BAR is a weapon. It's a trench knife used by the NAvy and Marines, also available for civillian purchase.

Larry is Lord-Loss, Steve/Ghosty is ghost, Dave is GES, Harry is You.

Larry: Black eye, bruise on back of head from getting clothelined followed by getting cold cocked by Dave. Baseball bat for weapon.

Steve/Ghosty has a deep cut, several smaller cuts on his arms, and can't see out of one eye. 10 pound sledge, gasmask.

Dave: Status: Unknown. Is he alive? Dead? Being forced to watch Twilight by a sadistic bastard left over from the apoc? Oh, it's so exciting!

Really: Sprained ankle, five long slashing cuts on stomach, bite wounds on left thigh, torn open left bicep, definate infection, fever slowly building.

Has: Penlight and ID badge taken from a doctor, bayonet that he hid from Harry, a week's worth of Penacillin and three OxyCodone pills.

Dan; pistol bandages and afew bits of food(you left me out

also who is where?
im going to monroe

I had no idea where you were. My bad.

Stay in the area you're in, and met up with lord of the ghosts.

I'll help you guys write a narrative if you like so that our groups can meet up and help advance the story.
I spent all last summer writing a story like this, so I have plenty of info to fall back on.

Emperors Faithful wrote:Harry grinned, and passed it back to Dave.

"I'll tell you. It's becuase I don't know how to use the fething thing. Use it yourself. Just don't let them see it. I'm not sure I trust those two just yet." He motioned over to where Steve and Larry were.

"Yet you trust me just fine?" Dave laughed.

"I think you're a douche to be honest. But there are worst things than your insane ass out here." Harry pointed at Dave's wounds. "And they obviously don't like you very much. What the feth did that to you anyway?"

"Never though being a douche would save. I'm pretty sure that's what was gonna kill me in fact. Follow me." Dave turned, adn walked to a door on the left side of the store.
He pushed it open, and tried the light switch. Surprisingly, it worked.

"Hot damn. Never though I'd be so happy to see lights." Harry whistled.

Dave put a finger to his mouth, and whispered.

"Someone's there. Stay quiet, stay low." He crouched and cautiously advanced, P2000 in his hands, cocked.

Stairs led downward, and to a corridor with two doors on each side. Dave moved towards the one on the right, where he heard sounds.
He slowly pushed it open. His right index finger slipped inside the trigger guard without his notice. The door swung open enough for him to peek in.
He pulled back, eyes closed. After a moment, he stood, kicked the door open, and trained his pistol on the figures inside.

Harry watched it happen. It seemed so slow. Dave squeezed the trigger five times, before ducking back out. Harry heard a thump, and then a tremendous
boom. Dave blindfired the rest of his magazine into the room. They heard another thump.

The magazine slid free. Harry smelt a stench like burnt rubber. Dave slid a fresh clip in, almsot in slow motion.

He closed the door.

"You don't wanna see what's behind this." Dave dropped the USP.

They walked back up the stairs. Dave went back to the gun counters, and broke open a few more cases. Harry saw Dave attach something to the bottom
of the muzzle. He turned, and pointed it at him. Harry froze as a beam of light hit him.

"Tac Light. Very useful." He smashed a few more cases, and took two other guns. One, another P2000, and the other he couldn't see. Dave put the other two in a
small bag he'd took of a shelf.

Dave looked around for a few more minutes, and found a pair of jeans that fit him. He took off the scrubs, and pulled on the new pair.
Dave took from another shelf coats, and tossed two to Harry.

What the hell had he seen down in that room? Harry wondered.

OOC: What the feth are we shooting at?

Harry thought of corspes he'd seen stacked up in that back alley, and realised he didn't really want to find out. Ignorance is bliss after all. But heck, ignorance in this place was going to get him killed.

"What were those, Dave? Tell me. I don't wanna have to go back there and find out myself."

Emperors Faithful wrote:OOC: What the feth are we shooting at?

Harry thought of corspes he'd seen stacked up in that back alley, and realised he didn't really want to find out. Ignorance is bliss after all. But heck, ignorance in this place was going to get him killed.

"What were those, Dave? Tell me. I don't wanna have to go back there and find out myself."

"Animals. The worst kind." Dave said solemnly as he walked towards the big rig.

"Which kind would that be?" Harry asked

"Thsoe who prey on human flesh."

Harry stood, dumbfounded.

Dave passed a coat to Larry and one to Steve. He threw the rest in the back.

He got out, and on his bike.

"Follow me. We should make a good enough headway to get to Philly before wehave to abandon the clunker and my bike."

He revved the engine, did a doughnut and peeled out.
They raced to catch up with him.

Dave was glad for the wind. It numbed his face, and brought tears to his eyes. He enjoyed the pain that the wind brought. It took his mind off the dreams.

He prayed they would stop.