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Given the success that the other roleplay thread I started, and some input from one of the players, I have taken some of his advice.
Here are a few changes.

1) There will be a narrartor. The purpose of the Narrartor is to make sure the story moves along at a good pace, that major plot moments happen as I dictate, and that nobody becomes superhuman in any one instance.
2) There are enemies. I don't want to give any spoilers, so I'll keep it vague. Enemies are as follows:
Humans who degenerated in the apoc and banded together to survive but are mostly insane.
Animals: Wildlife having it's fun in a practically humanless world.
Mutated Animals: Dogs, horses, any domesticated animal that could have conceivably escaped from it's shelter, the alphas have grown large and mutated, though with what, none know.
Environment: Rusty edges, harsh terrain, cruel wheather, nature is a cruel mistress. Watch yourself out.

3) Each chapter will unfold as I dictate. if one is forgetable and weak, it will be skipped over with an appropriate epilouge detailing what could have conceivably happend.

I will post more tommorow, but I'm tired right now.

noice

so wanna get savaged by a mutated rabbit ^^

ghosty wrote:noice

so wanna get savaged by a mutated rabbit ^^

I don't know about you, but i'd prefer to die a more... honourable and less-ugly death.

ghosty wrote:noice

so wanna get savaged by a mutated rabbit ^^

You've been watching Monty Python and The Holy Grail haven't you?

can i join

Since all the other RPG's I've been playing appear to have died now, I might well partake of this one.

APOC ROLEPLAY: Highway to Hell

What a brilliant name, must have taken a real genius to think up that.

Mind if i join up?

Lord-Loss wrote:

APOC ROLEPLAY: Highway to Hell

What a brilliant name, must have taken a real genius to think up that.

Yeah, Notice I didn't use your suggestion High ROAD to Hell.

For every body who wants to join up, this is the model of how your charcter should be set up

Name:
Age:
Physical Characteristics/Abilites:
History:

I have provided my own for those new to the game, and everybody that also took part in the last one (Unknown Apocalypse), provide yours as well as anybody who your are traveling with.

Name: David Mondello
Age: 15
Physical: 5' 5", Close cropped brown hair, hazel eyes, Three horizontal scars on left bicpep, scar on back of right hand
Abilities: Skilled climber, skilled in submission holds, knows how to perform a variety of pro wrestling techniques.
Inventory: KABAR, bayonet, small Bowie knife, small straight knife, H&K P2000 semi auto pistol with Tac Light and Laser sight, H&K USP pistol, C8 Carbine

Last Chapter: Headed down I-80 with Larry, Steve, and Harry, with Richard as a prisoner.

Name: Zeke
Age: 21
Physical: 5' 11", Built well and muscular, has a history of military activity, blue eyes, close cut hair brown.
Abilities: History of tracking as well as skilled climber of trees and some free running experience, As we all combat experience in the military for 2 years.
Inventory: Machete (hardened black tempered steel) in back sheath, Dragunov sniper rifle modified for semi fire with extended magazines (Each magazine now holds 15 rounds) with an extra 2 clips gives me 45 rifle rounds, 2 Hand guns are Browning FN-HP-DAs with a total of 100 rounds, Rock Climbing gear (rope and climbing pick) small pack with army issued cargo pants and vest.


Location: traveling parallel to I-80 about 200 yards off the road in the tall grass and patches of dead trees, traveling north.

can we only be human?

So what time are we thinking that this game is going to start?

orkylooter wrote:can we only be human?

Yes. Deal with it.

Katavus wrote:So what time are we thinking that this game is going to start?

This chapter is about a month after the apoc, it is still unknown, because I have yet to reveal it.

I would suggest reading the original thread to understand this one better.

Golden Eyed Scout wrote:

Lord-Loss wrote:

APOC ROLEPLAY: Highway to Hell

What a brilliant name, must have taken a real genius to think up that.

Yeah, Notice I didn't use your suggestion High ROAD to Hell.

*Goes to check PM's.*

Im afraid your incorrect on that one Scouty ma' boy.

From PMs and dat wrote:4)I think you should restart the thread and rename it something like 'Apoc Roleplay- On a Highway to Hell' for extra coolness.

Can i be summit a bit more durable? i dont wanna get stabbed in first meeting, and then commit suicide like before :(


Name: Tom
Age: 18
Physical fitness: Very thin, wiry, lean, whatever you wanna call it. Very Fast (previous life he was a cross country/ proffessional freerunner )
Abilities: Very fast, in this new world, where hundreds had dissapeared, he's basically the fastest man around. Able to outrun mutated dogs.
Inventory: Running shorts, vest top, shin guards and vambraces, metal pipe.

Im gonna do summit different. Because he's not a frikkin madman who kills because he can, and because he has no training, or any urge to use guns, he's a pacifist. He tries to solve things with words, and he isnt afraid to run froma confrontation, considering, as soon as he starts to run, he wont be able to be caught up with.
So dont try it

Last seen running along a country path singing to himself.

Oh he's basically a nice guy always tries to make freinds.

Im going to make several small changes to my characters hair, height and surname. I will highlight the changes, if there not ok with you Scout, then give me a shout.

Name:Larry Loss
Age:17
Physical Characteristics/Abilites: 6"0, medium lenght hair which is blondey brown,fairly experienced in close combat by now, several mediumish healing wounds such as large bruises etc.
History: Been through several horrible expriences so dont expect him to be cheery all the time. He has two pistols, a crossbow which he preffers using to guns and a wooden carved knife.

Im sure he could have picked up an extra gun and a crossbow for hunting etc in the one month gap in the story.

Lord-Loss wrote:Im going to make several small changes to my characters hair, height and surname. I will highlight the changes, if there not ok with you Scout, then give me a shout.

Name:Larry Loss
Age:17
Physical Characteristics/Abilites: 6"0, medium lenght hair which is blondey brown,fairly experienced in close combat by now, several mediumish healing wounds such as large bruises etc.
History: Been through several horrible expriences so dont expect him to be cheery all the time. He has two pistols, a crossbow which he preffers using to guns and a wooden carved knife.

Im sure he could have picked up an extra gun and a crossbow for hunting etc in the one month gap in the story.

I'm not to keen on the extra gun (you only had a .32 revolver in the old thread,) or the crossbow. If you change it to compound bow I'd be happy. If you are dead set on another gun, i forgot to mention my Lupara
sawn off, so if you desire, you can have that or the C8(canadian M4).

And ghosty, I don't exactly like the look you give your character, as it's very snowy in the apoc (PA gets alot of snow in winter.), and dogs hva efour legs. You might be able to get a few yards outpacing them, but tow legs fail compared to four.

I dont mind about not having an extra gun and compound bow sounds good.

Then it is settled.

Dave struggled over the pile of snow, cursing all the while. His hands were freezing and he regretted not taking a pair of gloves from the store. He laid his hands on the holsters of his guns, which were
tied down low on his thighs like a gunslinger. He pulled them out as he crested the snow drift. Cars had been arranged to form a barricade, with pieces of sheet metal and crates stuck in between them to
close up gaps.

Dave turned and slid down the snow drift.

"We still got Molotovs?" Dave asked Harry.

He nodded, and pulled out two.

"Shee-ite." Dave spoke. Not enough weaponry to take out whatever had fortified that area.

Dave revealed what he knew from his scouting sortie.

"If we try and move around them, we'll be wasting precioucs time and supplies. We can see if their friendly. But we don't know if they shoot on sight." Dave theorized.

They looked at each other, then back at Dave.

"What'd you have in mind?" Harry asked him.

"I was thinking we would have Rich run towards them, still tied up, and see what happens. He dies, fair enough for killing Steve." The others besides Rich winced. They knew he was trying to keep his hurt in.
He didn't do that good a job.

Rich groaned. 'I didn't kill him dammit! Not on purpose."

Dave flipped him the bird.

"Do you wanna die now, or later? Trust me, if they turn out to be cannibal rapists, I'll put you down with your own gun."

Rich groaned again, knowing that he wanted to live longer, even if it was just a few moments. They tied his hands behind his back, and set him off with a bs story to tell if whoever behind the barricade was friendly.

Dave watched through the ACOG scope of the carbine what happened. Figures emerged, taking Rich back in as prisoner. Hitting him more then Dave had either.

He slid back down the slope.

"We're in. You gutys come up with a plan for how we bust him out and get ways from these pyschos." Dave explained about the symbol he'd seen. A tilted X with bars flying out from it. A swastika.

As Zeke traveled off the main roads he noticed a large amount of cars piling up on the main road, as he looked down the scope of the Dragunov he wondered if there would be a supply stash somewhere near by. When he looked around he decided that he should try and check it out, it had been a week since he had a encounter with another human being, he decided that traveling slow would be the best bet.

When he approached the road after 15 minutes of taking in the surroundings he noticed a coach bus that had a second level and he decided to get a good view from that vantage point. As he set out to get to the coach he heard a crunching of snow and he dropped to the ground and laid flat, hoping that there would be no incident but decided to take the safe way and withdrew his machete and held it in a steady palm and wished that this situation would just fade out.

When he finally decided to look out around the car he had been leaning up against he noticed that there was nothing there. After feeling like a complete and total idiot he decided to carry on towards the double deck coach bus. Once he forced his way onto the bus he traveled to the second floor and found on of the windows to the back of the bus was able to open, as he slide the window open just a crack he took a nice look out the window to find not to his surprise nothing of real interest but decided that taking a rest in this area would not be such a bad idea.

OOC: dear scout, have you ever had to out run a dog before? 4 legs maybe more than 2, but 2 human legs are better evolved for sprints. And tbh, dogs give up quickly, again if you have been chased you would know. So a fast runner could outrun a dog sufficiently for it to give up. And im sorry i didnt know it was winter.

clothes will be changed accordingly to thicker, warmer clothes

"We could always bust down the front door and shoot the fethers?" suggested Larry.

"They might have weapons and we don't want to hit Richard" Harry replied, deep in though.

"Speak for yourself...." Larry muttered.

"Who would think Nazi's of all people who survive the Apoc, huh" Dave groaned "Just our luck, a load of Wacko's"

Larry was staring down into the barrier, looking for holes in the piles of rusted cars, or weak points. Suddenly a black silloute apeared in the window of a double decker bus.

"Hey... Guys... Guys... there's someone in that bus!" Larry stuttered.

A second later Dave glanced around and pointed the sniper at the Bus, but as quick as the silloute had apeared it was gone. "Its, Its gone!" muttered Larry. "Was probally my imagination"

"Well make sure you see something real next time, ok?!" Dave said annoyed.

"Yeh... sure" Larry replied, his heart still thumping from the fear that hit him when he saw the silent figure.

Just as Zeke had looked out the window he noticed a small band of men on a hill with one of them looking toward some form of what looks like some form of a fortified position as he returned his sights to the men on the crest of the hill he realized in horror one of the men was looking at him.

He dropped to the floor and started to head toward the stairs he decided that these men looked like they were regulars as he had come to call people who hadn't gone mad during the apoc, in hopes he was right he decided that sticking around in his current position couldn't hurt.

However he wasn't going to take any chances he knew if they had seen him they may come to check it out so he decided to create a warning system that was made of metal scraps attached to a trip string, nothing complicated but would get the job done if placed correctly and out of sight like on the stairs up to the second floor. So if they did decide to come check it out he might get a heads up if they were there.

As he set up the warning system he noticed that the fortified position had started to move with activity, wondering if the group had tried to make contact and decided that maybe he could lend a hand if it went to hell, which tended to happen alot since the winter came.

"Well time to set up with a good position that would provide a good view."

Lets see what happens.

Cold.

No matter what you do the wind always seems to find a way to drive that crisp frosty air through the thick layers of cloathing and force out any sense of warmth that might have been. With his leather gloved hand Eli pulled his flowing black trench coat closer in around himself trying in vein to keep the freezing air out and the warmpth in.

The snow crunched under Eli's boots as he walked along the broken and unused highway, his breath comming out in puffs of vapor in the cold winter air as he hummed a lighthearted melody to himself. He couldnt remember the name of the song or where he had origionally heard it, but somehow humming it helped him forget just how alone he felt.

Eli shifted the weight of a loaded OD Green backpack from his right shoulder to his left. Various objects could be heard clinking and shifting around from inside the old alice pack as he did. Strapped to the side of the old alice pack was a shotgun scabbord. A pistol grip for a super shorty could be seen sticking out of the end of the small holster within easy reach if needed.

Up ahead along the side of the road two cars could be seen that had collided into each other. Eli pulled the frosty goggles off his eyes onto his forehead to get a better look into the one car that still looked mostly intact. The other one looked as though it had burned and he doubted that he would find anything of value inside its charred remains.

Useing his forearm, Eli cleared some of the cold snow off the windows to get a better view of inside the car. In the drivers seat the remains of a man could be seen slumped over the steering wheel of the car. His flesh already sunken and stretched as he was slowly being mummified inside the car. On the backseat he could see brown paper bags filled with frozen food that was black with decay.

Eli pulled on the drivers door handle and opened the car door, which creaked in protest as snow fell away. The smell of decay wasnt as bad as Eli thought it was going to be. However if the weather were warmer he was sure that it would be almost unbearable to stand. Covering his nose with one hand, Eli rummaged through the mans pockets with the other before searching the rest of the car.

In the back of the car wrapped in a brown paper bag, Eli found a bottle of Everclear which he added to his pack. He also found a box of fine cigars that were in good condition and a zippo lighter that was in the mans coat pocket. He pulled one of the cigars out of the wooden box before stuffing the rest into a side pocket in his alice pack and put it in his mouth. With a metallic snap a flame danced and flickered in the cold winter wind casting shadows on Eli's unshaven face. Eli used it to light the cigar in his mouth and with a flick of his wrist the little orange flame was no more as the lid closed down upon it snuffing it out.

With a long drag on the cigar which produced a bright orange glow on its tip, Eli reached up and pulled the frosty goggles back down over his eyes and started once again walking down the long, cold road toward toward the now setting sun with nothing but the sound of the wind blowing and the snow crunching underfoot to keep him company.

Dave was drawing. Not any drawing, but maps. He had spent the last two days on scouting sorties, trying to get a feeel for the American Nazi Party Survivors Get Together Sing Along Camp, as he called it.

He was impressed. Most of the people looked dead, like zombies. They did what other, more energetic, people told them to do. It appeared they were pretty well off. They had lots of canned food, but they never left the barricaded camp.

He took in every sight through the binocs. Where they had set up sheet metal and large branches to make simple houses. They had used Chain link fences for what he called "The Zoo."

It was filled with the dead and the dying. He could see several ethnicities. Black, Asian, a few white people that he supposed were some other faith that the barricaded Nazis didn't like. It didn't matter that the Nazis had taken in Rich. They had corraled everyone that they still thought was inferior and slowly let them die of exposure, dehydration, or hunger.

He would not mind going in there guns ablazing, lighting the whole damned compound up brighter the the Fourth of July, but he wasn't stupid. At least not THAT stupid. He had seen guns. AK-47s and AR-15s.
He laughed when he saw an Uzi.
Harry looked at him, wondering what he found so damned funny about this.

"THe Nazis are using a JEW weapon! HAHAHAH!" Dave gasped in between laughs.

Larry and Haryy slowly came to understand what was so funny, and there laughs soon joined his. But Dave put his poker face on, and immeadiately the laughter stopped. He turned back to the binocs, and continued his scouting. He counted every single weapon, he used his limited knowledge of bullet sizes and types to match it with the weapons, he looked to see if they had any heavier armaments.

After threee hours, Dave stopped his most recent scouting mission. He sketched a rough map in the dirt of the compound, labeling areas he thought were important. In total, he ahd labeled an armory, the Zoo, a mess hall,
and a few cleverly hidden watch towers. If, when, they struck, he had marked how they were going to carry out his plan.

"So why're killing them? Yeah they got Rich, but we didn't want him to begin with." Asked Harry.

"Because numbnuts, they have hostages. We go in, we unload a few clips in their general direction, and we get the feth out."

Harry and Larry nodded. Dave had a way of making things very simple. As well as callling you numbnuts.

Tom sprinted down a motorway, vehicles of varying shapes and sizes flashing past him, blending into smudges of white, blue, gray. He vaulted onto a cars bonnet, and skidded over the permafrost on top. They were close. Tom gritted his teeth, and leapt to the ground; he misjudged the landing, and slipped onto his back, his head slamming against a patch of ice. He blacked out.

Keira was standing there, her hand against his cheek, smiling serenely.

Sitting up, Tom groaned, and spat some blood from his mouth. He’d bit his tongue hard and it was now bleeding profusely. It took him a moment to realize where he was, and then he was up again, running hard. A bullet whipped past his cheek, and he laughed. They’d caught up with him. Bobbing and weaving through the parked cars he dodged his assailants firing arcs. It all seemed like a game to him. Skidding hard, he swerved round a corner, and in a flash, he was off towards the tree line. He tripped suddenly, on something protruding from the ground. It was an emaciated hand, sticking out of the snow like some obscene flower. He stared at it long and hard, before he glanced at the ground around it. All the tell tale signs were there. He was kneeling on a mass burial sight. Corpses chucked into pits 10 deep, left to freeze together into a congealed mass. Shivering, he clambered to his feet, and dodged a stray round. They were still trying to shoot him. Tom leapt headlong into the foliage, and presently he was jogging through a copse of trees, their branches bare, clawing at the skyline. He slowed down and began to look around him. Whenever there were corpses, there were dogs. He stopped in a clearing, and caught his breath. Chuckling to himself, he pulled out the object he had stolen from his pursuers. It was a small lighter, molded to fit snugly in someone’s hand. His hand now. He looked back round him, to see if he was followed. No one was there.

Something growled to his left.

Time to start running he thought.

Tom slid down the side of a snow drift, panting heavily. These dogs weren’t giving up. He began to run through a large field. About halfway through he looked back. He wished he hadn’t. A pack of 6 dogs had just slipped from the tree line, tiny black smudges in the distance, but they were closing fast. Tom turned and began to sprint harder than he had when he was being chased by the men. The snow was deep. He kept stumbling. And like an addiction, he kept looking over his shoulder, only to wish he hadn’t. The dogs were closing fast.

Morning..

With it came the first golden rays of sunshine which bounced and danced off the frozen snow casting away the fridged night which Eli had walked through almost non stop. Eli had come across several more vehicles during the night and managed to salvage more items that he deemed would be either useful or vital to his continued survival out here in the frozen wasteland. His old alice pack bulged and strained to contain the added bulk of his new found treasures and the added weight was starting to take its toll on Eli. He would need to stop soon and rest, the problem however was finding somewhere secure to do so.

The sun continued to climb overhead in the grey overcast sky and was almost directly overhead when Eli spotted what he was looking for. Up ahead near a vast field near a wooded area along the road was a grey and white cinderblock service station that appeared to be nearly intact. It looked as though even in its prime it was abit rundown, with the outside paint peeling and chipped, the sign faded and nearly falling off, and the wooden shutters moaned in protest as the wind blew them slowly around on their hinges.

Eli smilled to himself as his boots crunched at a faster pace as he broke into a light jog toward the wooden door at the front of the station. Just short of it Eli stopped and with one gloved hand pulled the goggles up off his eyes back onto his forehead and with the other pulled out his super shorty. With one swift kick that sent splinters of wood cartwheeling into the room the door was open leaving Eli's black sillouett standing in the doorway with whisps of snow swirling around him. He stood there for a second, letting his eyes adjust to the dim lighting inside before he stepped into the darkened gloom.

Inside the sound of the wind was no more then a dim roar as Eli's eyes looked around the room he now found himself standing in. The area around him was almost completly trashed. Shelfs lay toppled over with their contents strewn wildly around on the cold tile floor and several of the false cealing tiles had fallen out and lay broken here and there. Eli could half smell the decay before he saw the pair of legs sticking out from under one of the bigger piles of junk.

With his shotgun in hand, he moved to his left down a small dirty hallway passed the restrooms and through a swinging door into a large four car service bay. The bay itself was empty of any vehicles and had various work stations set up that were littered with tools and parts for various things. On one of the walls a bunch of fan belts hung flat against a yellow and blue Napa backdrop. It was clear that nobody had been here in some time, and Eli set quickly set about business.

Moveing some 55 gal drums around and some of the tables, Eli barricaded all the doors and windows that were not locked or were exposed to the outside. Then pulling one of the cleaner tables into the center of the room, he unshouldered his pack and with a loud thud dropped it onto the table. He then opened it and dumped the entire packs contentes out into the open and started to arranged the various items and bundles of stuff into its proper place. Canned Food, Ammo, some tools, a first aid kit, a few bottles of liquor, his cigars, a mess kit, water, plus numerous other items could be seen on the table. He then uncliped a surplus sleeping bag off the bottom of the pack and rolled it out onto the bare floor.

Eli made a fire near his sleeping area out of some wooden pallets that he found and broken into smaller pieces. He made sure to keep a window open at the other end of the room so the smoke had somewhere to go. Useing a cleaner flat of metal propped up on two jack stands, he soon had a cooking surface and soon the smells of coffee and some canned meat from the front of the store could be heard sizzling on the hot metal.

Eli seated himself on his sleeping bag letting the warmpth of the fire and the aroma of a hot meal seduce him. He let out a deep sigh of relief for he knew that soon he would be getting some much needed rest and a belly full of hot food. However, his shotgun was always within arms reach and Eli never fully let his guard down. He knew that many dangers lurked around every corner in this new world of his..... and he knew, that no matter what, he would see the end of it.

One way..... or another.

Dave had spent the last four days observing the encampment. He had snuck around to get better views of it, he had watched as they sent out patrols to gather firewood and hunt. He had seen them patch up the cuts and bruises on Rich. He hoped Rich had been smart enough to not give away their position while he spent some quality time getting to know Your Friendly Neighborhood American Nazi Party. On the fifth morning, he had seen one of them, dressed like Adolf himself, drag one unlucky occupant of the Zoo out. He had draged them onto a makeshift stage in the center of the compound, and had executed them. Taken a big ole .50 caliber
revolver and just plugged a hole in the young woman's chest. Dave closed his eyes, and said a short prayer for the girl. The others rushed over, trying to find out what had happened.

They looked at Dave. He looked down at his feet, ashamed. They were surprised at this sudden turn of events. When he looked back up, they saw a familiar light in his eyes. The fire of a man possessed.

"We strike tonight. Here's the plan."

Dave outlined the plan. Harry would remain where he was, and provide over fire with the C8.

Larry would use his compound bow to take out the guards on the tower, and his revolver to get the woman and children into the mess hall where Dave would figure out what to do with them.

Dave would take down all those armed, make sure to put Adolf down nice and slow, and set the prisoners in the Zoo lose.

He outlined all the avenues and streets that had been made by the Nazis to make their compound. Harry climbed a tree, finding a place where branches met together allowing him to rest comfortably.

The moon shone that night, providing light, reflecting off the snow.

Larry let lose with one arrow, taking a man right in the chest. He stood there for a few moments, shocked. In that time, Larry let another two lose, one more in the mans chest, one in his neck.
He crumpled to the floor of the tower. He quickly turned his bow on the other tower, located to the north. he was less succesful. The man fell out, landing with a loud "Uff!" and then followed by cries.

Dave rushed the front of the compound, Lupara in his right hand, P2000 in his left. He came upon two men, standing in pajamas, loudly wondering what was happening.

Dave's fired six shots. Two in each man's chest, one in eachs head. He heard shouts, and knew that their surprise factor was gone. Dave rushed through the streets ("Funny how one tries to make things familiar" Dave thought.)
He heard shots from the C8, saw the muzzle flash up on the ridge, and heard three men shout in agony.
"Damn Harry's good!" Dave shouted, purposely trying to draw attention to himself. He saw three shadows round the corner, and trained his Lupara on where they would be standing, and fired in the next instant.

Larry kicked in the door to one of the houses. A woman jumped up, and he brought the revolver down on her temple, and she fell, hard. Immediately Larry felt ashamed. He'd been raised his whole life not to hit women.
That feeling went away when another woman jumped on his back, arms wrapped around his throat, nails scratching. Larry tried shaking her off, but he was fading, fast. He backed into a wall, and she loosened her grip, just enough for Larry to shake her off. He truned, and saw her grab a chair he had knocked over, and she lifted it to him. He squeezed the trigger before he knew what he was doing.

Harry looked around franticlly. He was frightened, and didn't know how many more people he could shoot at. He felt terrible. This was different then killing dogs who tried to maul him. Sure they were Nazis, but they were still human beings, right?
He pulled the trigger nonetheless, determined to make sure Dave and Larry would be alright. Tears streamed down his face as he did so. He didn't think he could ever look anyone in the face again.
What would his family think? He didn't feel the tears slowly freeze on his face.

Dave didn't know how many enemies were left. He had put down seven, and if things were going according to plan, Larry had put down another two, while Harry had taken at least five.
Dave saw the Nazis retreat to the mess hall, about fifty yards from him. They were blindly firing, unsure of where the attack was coming from. Dave snuck up to the side, where they could see him. For the most part, the gunfire ahd dies down.

Five minutes of blood and stupidity

Dave found the old addage rang true. The fight could have gone either way. He inched his way to the front, and looked in a makeshift window He could see about twenty men, some injured, while others were perfectly fine.

Feth me. Dave thought.

He reloaded his Lupara, and pulle the Molotov out of his pack. He lit it, knowing full well they would see it and fire immediately. He dove away, chucking the bottle inside. Seconds later, he heard rapid fire weapons tear through the currugated steel sideing. The bottle exploded, and Dave felt the heat at his back. He rolled back, and fired blindly into the window. Dave dove again, this time to the opposite side, and fired the remainder of his clip. He holstered the P2000, and drew his USP. He kicked in the door, and immediately fired. He saw four figures drop, and took in how many were still left in an instant.

Six. Dammit. He realised his mistake too late. he'd commited himself, and was gonna die.

Feth it. Go down guns blazing. Leave a legacy of lead and grief. He charged in, shoicking the Nazis. His pistol roared, deafining in the small space. Another two fell, and the four scattered, kicking over tables to hide behind. Dave took a note outta their book, and did the same. He reloaded as fast as possible, and drew his other handgun.

What I wouldn't give for a grenade. he thought.

"STOOOOPPP!!" Dave heard a commanding voice yell.

"We won't shoot if you come out, hands up."

Dave considered his options carefully. He deepened his voice.

"Eat my seed."

He popped up, and fired both pistols, He saw the wood splinter, smelt the tangy metallic odor of the gunpowder. He felt intense pain as a round dug it's way ointo his right shoulder, glancing off the bone.
It spun him around, and Dave dropped, clutching his body.

Thats it then? This is how you go out? Like a punk, whining for his mommy? Oh, wait, you don't have run. You buried her, remember. Pansy. Get up. GET UP. That's it. Take 'em with you.

The voice in his head continued to insult him, driving him to fire one last round. He caught two more, before he fell backward, a round cutting clean through his stomach. His pistol fell away. His vision narrowed, and he forced himself to open his eyes.

He rolled over, and crawled towards the pistol. He dimly heard voices, as though he was listening to a tunnel.

"This is it? This the bastard who nearly took us down? This the one that tried to ruin the Aryan reclamation of Earth?" It was the same man. Dave was going, going, not yet gone.

He grasped his wound with one hand, the other pulling him along.

"Let's waste him Jonah. He's still going for it." said another, more eager voice.

"No. Let him keep trying. Teach him an exercise in futlity."

He was only two feet away now, and he was losing feeling in his hands. Not good.

He rolled onto to his back, and fixed the eyes of the man who looked like Hitler, Jonah.

His throat hurt, it was dry, but he forced the words.

"F*ck you." Dave let his head drop against the floor, and stopped his breathing. He closed his eyes.

They took the bait. The one called Jonah, the one who looked like Hitler turned his back. So did the other one. Dave acted fast, doing his best to get one last tally in his Win column.

He drew the knife. He tossed it up. Caught it. And threw it at the back of Adolf. It lacked power, lacked damaging ability. But it did it's job. It stuck into the kidney of Jonah, who screamed in agony.

Dave smiled, his teeth slick with blood. His left hand rose, and he gave the men a one fingered salute.
They were shocked. Using a last bit of adrenaline, DAve shot back, wrapped his right hadn around the grip of the gun. It hurt, but he forced himself to move. He lifted the gun. He squeezed tthe tirgger, emptying the last
of the clip.

Three more bodies lay amoungst the floor. Some were burnt or burning still. Other had been turn apart by lead. Only one wore a smile on his face.


Larry shook himself back. He turned, and left the hut. He heard people crying, and saw the mess hall burning. He rushed to it, and heard Harry yelling.

"Dave's inside! He might be hurt!"

It was an understatement. Dave had three holes blown in him. His guns ahd scattered, and he had landed on his pack, shattereing the last Molotov. They administered first aid, and left to free the prisoners. They found Rich amoungst them.

'Long story, I'll fill ya in later. Where's Dave?"

The prisoners followed them to the mess hall. An older Indian woman stepped up, claiming to have been an ER doctor.
She set the others to find medicine, and she began to treat his wounds, seeing if the bullets were still inside.

Dave awoke. His body ached, he was hungry, and he was only in his underwear. Dave sat up. He had been lying on one of the tables of the mess. He heard talking outside, and swung his legs over the edge of the table.
He stood up, his head swimming. Fighting to maintain balance, Dave walked to the window at the front of the mess. He looked out, and saw people, colored people, milling about.

"Oh thank God and the Man Jesus." He whispered to himself. At least they had succeeded. He fell backwards, passing out. He wore a sly little smile.