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The Dead Rise Again (IC)
Topic Started: Jan 26 2013, 11:30 AM (1,860 Views)
Enigma
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that fabled superhero

OOC

----

The world had fallen down the crapper, for lack of a better phrase or terminology. Damien didn't care about any of this, he just hoped that he could find some form of food leftover from the initial craze after the breakout. He swung his gun around to where it rested over his shoulder. He shuffled boxes around in the worn down store, tossing empty crates out into the street where the wind caught them and carried them away until they disappeared out of sight. He wandered through a few more of the isles until he was certain there was nothing left.

"Damnit, there's nothing here." He kicked another empty box and walked outside.

Most people would have been concerned about the noise he was making; but, he knew for a fact that the nearest horde was miles behind him. The few walkers who might have remained behind would be easy pickings if he was smart and didn't try to do anything he knew he might mess up on. He lived his life now by three simple rules: trust no one, always check your corners and one shot one kill. He had to be a little more flexible with the last one considering how hard it was to follow that particular philosophy when a bunch of walkers were coming at you. He could try and lie to himself that being by himself was safer; but, when it came to the truth, humans were social creatures.

He craved conversation more than anything.
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Valentino
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Phoenix Tamer
"Goddamnit!" Morgan yelled as she threw her cellphone towards a couple of garbage bags that were piled up in the alley she was walking down. She took another few steps before she quickly went back and looked for it. When she found it, she brushed it off and tried dialling the number again. Once again it reached the answering machine, and every time she heard it she wanted to cry.

"You've reached Morgan and..."
"Emily!"
"Please leave your name and number after the beep!"
"Beeeeeeep! *giggle*"
*beep*

It had been so long since she saw her daughter, she was even starting to lose track of the days. But that answering machine and a few videos and photos on her cellphone was all she had of her daughter. It killed her, knowing that she was out there somewhere. Was she safe? Was she with her grandparents? Were they safe? She hadn't been able to reach any of them since this shit started.

Morgan had stayed mostly alone during this time, sometimes travelling with a couple other people but they always parted ways because they wanted to leave the city - but Morgan couldn't, if her daughter was here somewhere she had to find her first.

Finally her body couldn't keep her standing and using the wall as support, she slowly slumped to the ground. It had been days since she had eaten, maybe more. She pulled her knees close to her chest, hiding in the shadow of the alley to rest a bit and she looked through her cellphone which was slowly dying. She had a charger, but she would need to find an outlet soon. She laid a wooden baseball bat and a gun at her side, the only weapons she had... and the gun had only two bullets left.
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Webster
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Commander, USS Conqueror(CHM-69)

For several minutes Stephanie scanned the desert valley below with a set of hi-power binoculars, looking at the burning remains of the small town in the distance. She could see people shambling around, walking almost like robots instead of like regular people or even those in a panic. This town's infected, she thought, jotting down a few notes as she sat on her stallion along the ridgeline.

To look at the former Army virologist was to see a woman consumed by a combination of fear and dread, despite her confident appearance. Dressed in jeans, tank top & Western duster with a .45 strapped to her thigh and an M4 carbine slung over her back, she looked nothing like the scientist she was before the Outbreak. By sheer luck of the draw she had not been part of the isolation team sent from Ft. Logan to investigate the initial infection...instead she had been ordered to continue her team's biodefense studies on smallpox. Smallpox of all things, Stephanie thought to herself, something that hadn't infected a single human in the wild since 1978...until Patient Zero emerged in that Godforsaken town. And her team had, somehow, let it happen...

It is a given that, over time, even the best biosafety procedures will fail at some point and in some way. One of her colleagues at Ft. Logan, a part of the Special Pathogens Branch, had been working on how to track infectious agents through airborne means; over the course of several months, he had taken a mild strain of influenza, H3N3, and added one single gene from a nasty strain of smallpox known as India-2. That one gene kept it from being an efficient airborne infectious agent, though...but was it did, however, was make it both very deadly as an infectious agent by eliminating the tell-tale bumps and pox-marks that signified its' existence but also created the zombie-like conditions that resulted following infection. And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts saying, Come and see..., Stephanie thought to herself as she began to ride down the desert trail around the town, wary of approaching and possibly being seen, ...and I looked and beheld, a Pale Horse..., continuing to think of the age-old tale, ..and her name that sat on him was Death...and Hell followed along with her..., Stephanie whispered to herself as she slowly made her way around the town. If I do nothing else in this world, I will do everything I can to make up for this awful plague I've unleashed...
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Enigma
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that fabled superhero

There was a sound from the alley next to the store he'd exited, it'd sounded oddly like giggling. Did those undead bastards giggle? He couldn't remember ever hearing one do it. Was there a human on the other side of that wall? He hadn't seen any when he entered the town. His mind weighed the options between investigating and turning a deaf ear and investigating won out. His hand subconsciously drifted to the holstered pistol on his waist, knowing the large rifle slung over his shoulder would be useless in the confines of the alley.

He clung tightly to the wall as he slowly crept toward the entrance, ears alert for any signs of danger or moaning, anything that might alert him to an approaching zombie. Reaching the alley, he slowly used a makeshift mirror contraption to peek around the corner without revealing any part of his body to be shot. Seeing a human-like figure balled up near one of the large dumpsters, he eased himself around the corner, hand still resting comfortably on the pistol's stock.

"Miss....hello?" He eased closer, holding his other hand up to show he meant no harm. "Miss, everything okay?"
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Cranos
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Unknown Hero
Sam carefully inspected the street. He hadn't been out in what seemed like forever. When the crisis first started he did what every sensible addict would do. He collected as much drugs as he could find and holed up in a dark cellar where he could retreat to his beloved fairy land, far away from this hell. Occasionally, when he ran out of dope, he looted the local pharmacies and known drug spots as he was doing now.

He hated to be outside. Always so exposed, so frightened about what might be lurking behind the next corner, but nothing creeped him out more than the silence. Proof that this god forsaken town is finally completely dead he thought to himself. How much longer would it take before he joined its new residents in their endless march?

Sam never was much of a fighter. He could always save himself by saying the right thing, whether it was sucking up to his superiors or threatening a client that wouldn't pay. He doubted he could ever follow up on those threats though, he didn't have the balls for it. A least, that's the way it was before Doomsday...

He tightened his grip on the machete in his hand and continued his search.
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Decay
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James scanned the valley below him, no movement of any kind and the road appeared clear as well. Nothing but abandoned vehicles and various assortments of trash. "Alright guys, I think were going to continue to head this way. Remember if you see anybody, immediately hit the dirt. We don't need to attract any attention." the 5 men of the group all nod their heads in agreement. Army Reconnaissance Detachment 10, or D10 for short. A small team established to provide overwatch over these 'walkers'. They were ordered to send all information to a CEDA team based in Savannah, Georgia. But no contact has been received in 2 days which worried James, it usually mean't the area was overran. But he wouldn't know til he arrived which was still another week if he continued his team on foot.

The 5 men (not including Deuce) in his group all had different qualities and areas of operation, Bishop is his extremely religious sniper. Never understood why he joined the military if didn't like killing .. but I guess it doesn't really matter now if your killing dead people. Raven is the heavy weapons specialist, loud, obnoxious and sometimes hard to deal with. Gucci is the viral & disease specialist, extremely funny, sometimes cracking jokes in amidst of combat. Aztec, the quiet spanish soldier who was transferred from a unknown branch. Never really spoke unless ordered to do something. James liked him though. Last was Judge, his second-in-command and right hand man. He served in Iraq and Afghanistan with James, and the two immediately became best friends. His profession is scouting. The squad moved along the highway slowly and proceed to make there way to Savannah, one step at a time.
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Webster
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Commander, USS Conqueror(CHM-69)

After a few hours of riding, Stephanie pulled back on the reins and came to a stop, dismounting from the stallion near a desert spring. Surprised no one's around, she thought, unslinging the M4 and charging a round. For several seconds she stood and scanned the area, noticing what appeared to be a trailer of some sort, abandoned by the side of the road.

Climbing atop the stallion, she drew back on the reins and nudged 'em forward, continuing along the desert trail she was on. As she rode along the trail, she took a sip of water from her canteen, pulling a few carrots from a feed bag slung off the saddle and leaning down to let the stallion munch of them as they went along. That's good, she whispered, that's good. As she got closer to the trailer, she saw that it wasn't a trailer but a Humvee. Maybe there's a radio and supplies inside of it, she thought to herself as she broke from the trail and carefully made her way down the ridgeline onto the valley floor.

Approaching the Humvee, she dismounted again, tying the stallion's reins to a nearby desert tree. Unslinging the carbine once again, she carefully made her way down to where the Humvee was. Coming around from behind it, she stepped carefully towards the driver's side door. Reaching over, she very gently eased the Humvee's door handle open and nudged the door open. Suddenly, the door flew open and the body of a Utah Guardsman fell out of the driver's seat; the soldier fell to the ground, unmoving. She soon saw the reason why: on the center panel of the Humvee's front seats lay a Beretta. Poor guy must've shot himself to avoid either being bitten or maybe to avoid turning into a zombie himself, she thought as she gingerly stepped around the body to look inside.

Looking inside, she saw that the Guardsman had been the only one inside; the rest of the Humvee was empty except for several rucksacks. Grabbing one, Stephanie quickly looked through it; it contained mostly MREs' and a small MedKit. Pulling it from the Humvee, she set it aside and continued looking. Seeing several bandoliers of ammo for her carbine, she took them as well.

As she finished looking around, she heard the stallion's neighing. Time to go, she said to herself as she knelt down to pick up the bandoliers and rucksack. Suddenly, she heard a growling sound behind her; whirling around, she saw a young man, obviously undead, shamble towards her. Quickly stepping backward to put some space between her and the zombie, Stephanie drew her .45 and drew down on the man, killing him with a quick shot to the head.

As she reholstered her sidearm, she began hearing a few more grunts and groans. Time to go! she thought as she quickly grabbed the rucksack and bandoliers and began running over to where her stallion was tied at. After putting the rucksack over her shoulder and hooking the bandoliers around her shoulder, she undid the reins around the tree as the grunts and growls got louder. Freeing the reins just as another undead came shambling around, Stephanie dug her heels in the stallion's side, a signal for the horse to get moving. The stallion took off at a fast clip and she rode away, the shambling, grunting sounds of the undead fading from the air. That was close, she thought as she continued down the road, the stallion going full tilt down the asphalt, its' horseshoes making a loud click-clack on the highway as they went along.
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SoapFan
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Hooks
Brad is outside at a nearby store on a long stretch of road. It's hot and he's sweating heavily. He's checking the gas pumps for gas and scouting the area before heading inside the store, which seems desserted and ransacked.

He enters the store and looks around carefully while walking. He's searching for anything that maybe useful to him. He finds some aspirn, healthy bars, and 2 20 oz. bottles of water. "I reckon I'll be dieting until I find some real food." He says aloud while picking up his findings in separate parts of the store. He continues scouting the place, but have no luck in finding anything worth taking. While walking around his bag is caught on a bended rail in the store and it yanks him. His bag rips and something falls on the floor. He picks it up and looks at it, which turns out to be a class like photo of him with fellow Army recruiters. He stares at it for awhile and rips it to shreads. "It's just me and you now." He says to himself.

He hears a strange noise from a distance outside. He open his bag and pulls out a gun and prepares to use it just in case. He slowly creeps his way to the front of the store and sees nothing, but still hear the noise coming from a distance.
Edited by SoapFan, Jan 28 2013, 03:02 AM.
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legokiba213
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Time Traveler
The cool water ran down Hector's throat as he drank his last bottle of water. He had scavenged his place of employment for anything he can take on his trip to the nearest military shelter. A few nutrition bars, a couple water bottles, a backpack to carry it all, and a hunting knife was all that was left for him. Hector puts the empty water bottle back into his backpack and pulls out a map. "Looks like it's still going to be a few days" he said to himself as he shoves the map into the backpack. He collects his things and begins walking seeing nothing but the road in front of him. Hector notices a mall town up ahead and realizing that his running dangerously on supplies begins his walk toward the unknown.
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Valentino
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Phoenix Tamer
Regis Nex
Jan 27 2013, 02:09 PM
There was a sound from the alley next to the store he'd exited, it'd sounded oddly like giggling. Did those undead bastards giggle? He couldn't remember ever hearing one do it. Was there a human on the other side of that wall? He hadn't seen any when he entered the town. His mind weighed the options between investigating and turning a deaf ear and investigating won out. His hand subconsciously drifted to the holstered pistol on his waist, knowing the large rifle slung over his shoulder would be useless in the confines of the alley.

He clung tightly to the wall as he slowly crept toward the entrance, ears alert for any signs of danger or moaning, anything that might alert him to an approaching zombie. Reaching the alley, he slowly used a makeshift mirror contraption to peek around the corner without revealing any part of his body to be shot. Seeing a human-like figure balled up near one of the large dumpsters, he eased himself around the corner, hand still resting comfortably on the pistol's stock.

"Miss....hello?" He eased closer, holding his other hand up to show he meant no harm. "Miss, everything okay?"
At the sound of shuffling feet Morgan instinctively moved her hand over her firearm, but instead of hearing the moaning and groaning of the undead she heard the voice of a man. She gathered her belongings from the ground and cautiously rose to her feet. It wasn't the first time she had run into other survivors, but the end result wasn't always the same. Some were helpful and some weren't even close to being friendly, so now she was always cautious around new people. "I'm fine... are you alone?" she asked curiously. Not only as a precaution, but every time she met someone she hoped they had her little girl with them. The answer was always no.

Morgan kept her gun in hand and the baseball bat under her arm, but shoved the cell phone into one of her pockets. She edged a little closer, following suit in not raising her weapons to show she was harmless too. If anything, she was probably better with the baseball bat anyway. But she knew if she was going to survive this thing and protect her daughter if she found her, she would need to learn to handle a gun - and find more bullets too.
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