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Unlife on Mars; Grrr, Arg.
Topic Started: Mar 9 2015, 11:45 PM (7,964 Views)
Gene Hunt
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*Four months have gone by since the first case broke out. Four months since their lives all turned upside down. London fell first, then Manchester afterwards. Gene'll forever be proud of that. All those posh hoity-toity Southerners, coming up 'ere, bringing their diseases! But it's nothing to laugh about, not really. The virus spreads fast, claiming every city, town and village in the country. Nowhere is safe, or so the radio says. Stay in your houses, lock the doors, don't go out for any reason. But of course that instantly sent everyone into a panic, and now the roads are clogged with abandoned and burnt out vehicles, unpassable even with Gene's extensive knowledge of the city's backstreets.

They were all in the station when it went down - reports of crazed citizens biting and savaging other members of the public. News reports from London had prepared them all for what was to come, but seeing it in the flesh was another thing altogether. Mrs Peterson from the local offie, knawing on Mr Sajib's leg like a chicken drumstick, blood everywhere... They knew they'd have to put her down, but shooting at a familiar face, eyes white and mouth red, hissing and gargling coming from her throat? Nobody could have been ready for that.

They did what they could with the resources the had until finally the city collapsed and chaos took over. Looting and fires, death and destruction were everywhere. People fleeing to the country, people arriving fleeing from the country, people barricading themselves indoors, camping out on rooftops... It was like something from a film.

With half of the force already bitten and turned, the remaining police had no choice but to lock themselves in the station and sit it out for a while. And though he hated sitting about and waiting, Gene had to admit that the station was the best place for them to be. There were secure areas like the cells, a canteen with a mostly full larder. Enough storeys for them to watch the city and stairs for when the power finally was cut to the lift.

The power switching off was part of what finally did it. The fridge and freezer warmed, ruining half of the already dwindling food supplies. Everybody had known that the station couldn't be a permanent fortress from the horrors outside, and it was now time to venture out. The running water went with the electricity, and people were needing to go out on food and water collections. That lasted a couple more weeks until finally the lack of supplies began to turn people on each other. Then they hear the battery operated radio crackle. Salvation, a fortified camp up north. Only a few hours drive on a clear motorway, but with no vehicle it'd take weeks to walk it. More, considering the slow and cautious pace they'd have to take. But with supplies running low and morale at breaking point, it was a risk they'd have to take.

Appointing himself leader (as if anyone would have objected) and Sam as second on command, Gene posed an ultimatum. Anyone who wanted to fight for a chance to survive could join him. Anyone who wanted to waste away in this godforsaken building could starve to death on their own.

What was left of CID and a few other officers accepted, filling their police rucksacks with as much bottled water and canned food as they could reasonably take from the others, guns - lots of guns, and set off, bound for the various shops they needed things from. Pop up tents, knives, more weapons, toothpaste, matches... Anything of use.

A few fell during the mission, but mostly the run was a success, lasting a few days with them using a shop as a Base.

And now, Gene walks next to Sam as they navigate their way through yet another car-obstructed road. They're out of Manchester now, but the shelter is still weeks away. Progress has been slow. Humans have turned out to be just as dangerous as the bloody zombies so far - ambushing anyone they could for supplies. Vince was bitten on the leg not far out of the city. It took 12 hours for the fever to finally finish him off, and then another whole five minutes for Gene to pull himself together enough to strike the final blow. He won't have one of his own walking around like one of those monsters.

With their slowly diminishing group in tow, they keep walking. Night'll be setting in soon... Two hours or so and it'll be dark.

Gene turns to Sam, chin peppered with stubble and dirt smudged on his face, voice rough with the effort of keeping his legs moving*

S'gonna get dark soon... Should try to find somewhere to sleep.

*looks past his partner at the dark abandoned houses on one side of the street, focusing on the one at the end - more windows for escape routes that way. *

Think Mr and Mrs Undead'll mind if we squat for the night?
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Gene Hunt
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*It's clear from the tone of Sam's voice that he's hesitant about it. And while Gene can partially understand, it still doesn't feel right for Sam to be so reluctant to have physical contact with him. Something like what happened should have brought them closer together, not driven them further away...

But he can't face sleeping on the floor this time. It's important for Sam to have the best sleep possible, but in order to keep Sam safe, Gene also needs that. He won't be any use if he's too exhausted to fight when he needs to.

He shoves the last crisp into his mouth and sighs.*

We can top and tail if that'll help.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*This time, Sam's reaction is a lot less hesitant. He huff out a chuckle, turning to look at Gene with half a smile, both sad and amused.*

Nah, yer alright. Back to back should be sufficient.

*And it still hurts to say that. Gene sounded so disappointed then, his tired voice causing Sam's chest to constrict; if only Gene knew just how hard this is for Sam as well... To hold back, for fear of inadvertently killing his beloved.

But with the wound dressed and covered, Sam hopes that the chance of Gene getting infected is minimal. It has to be.

Sam finishes clearing up the bed and now scoots up until he's in the half closest to the wall, then lies down carefully. Despite being awake for just a couple hours, he already feels exhausted and sleepy again... He definitely needs more rest.*

*mutters tiredly, already having turned his back on Gene* Try not to squash me, please...
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene's face falls even further as Sam mentions sleeping back to back. So they won't even be cuddling, then. Being the manly man that he presents as, Gene won't make a fuss - it's not like he can't go another day without some physical contact that doesn't involve blood...

Forlornly, he stares at Sam's back for a moment before dropping his shoulders and muttering as he shoves a few heavy objects in front of the door*

That dig'd be more relevant if I hadn't dropped a few trouser sizes.

*with the door finally secure, Gene heads over to the bed and pushes himself carefully up onto it. There isn't much room, especially with him unable to press himself properly against his partner - but after a bit of shifting about he manages. And as his head hits his half of the pillow, Gene feels his eyes already closing. Suddenly he's aware of how exhausted his body feels - a sleepless night with all that stress, carrying a grown man across the city and then gathering supplies? It all takes its toll. And even though Sam's still too worried to touch him, at least he's able to sleep on a bed.

Tiredly, he murmurs*

Wake me up if y'hear anything dodgy.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam does notice how despondent Gene sounds, and it makes guilt throb in his chest. It's not fair. He wants the contact just as much as Gene does - needs it - but the risk...

Sam shifts as far to the edge of the bed as he can as Gene lies down, trying to give him more space. He can't help a slight shiver as he finally feels Gene's back press up against his - Gene had carried him earlier, but this kind of contact... It's not the same. They're in a bed, for the first time after the bite, and they should... They should be together, properly.

Sam shifts slightly, turning his head to glance over his shoulder at Gene. His partner is probably going to drop off immediately... So Sam replies quietly*

Wilco. *hesitates for a moment* Sleep well...!

*And with that, Sam settles down as well, trying not to think about how he wants to turn around properly and wrap himself around Gene. How he wants to feel those strong arms enveloping him in return. How he wants... More than that.

It won't help him, not now.

It takes a while, but Sam does manage to get back to sleep within an hour. His body still demands quiet and rest, and with Gene right next to him, Sam's sleep is less laden with nightmares than it might have been otherwise.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene murmurs back, an unintelligible sound. And then he's drifting off. It takes a good few minutes, but he's just too tired to be alert this time. They're enclosed in and safe... Or as safe as they can be anyway. They should take advantage of it while they have it.

And maybe Sam'll come around.... Maybe next time they'll be able to be more intimate, even if it's just a hug.

With that thought, Gene finally descends into sleep - a thankfully peaceful one, free from nightmares and fears.*
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Sam Tyler
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*It's testament to Sam's exhaustion that he didn't put to stay up and keep watch. If he had been any more alert, he probably would have thought twice about lying down at the same time as Gene - what if looters like themselves enter the hospital and decide to relieve them of Gene's grand scoop...?

But luckily for them, nothing happens. The walkers stay on the upper levels, not disturbing their sleep.

Sam has sunk into a deep sleep during which his body is doing its best to recover from the fever. However, with what has happened, his need for proximity and safety is starting to make itself known more vehemently, taking over his subconscious.

And then, at one point, Sam rolls over and drapes his arm around Gene in his sleep, holding onto him loosely. He doesn't wake up, doesn't even rouse to a lighter sleep - simply holds onto his partner like a koala might.*
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Gene Hunt
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*It's hours later when Gene finally surfaces from sleep, groggy and yet refreshed at the same time. The hours haven't completely made up for all the sleep he's lost, but he certainly feels more rested then before.

He's about to blink his eyes open when he senses something unexpected - a weight over his side. The feeling is familiar, comfortable... But Sam didn't want to... why...?

Frowning, Gene opens one eye and turns his head a little, looking behind him as best as he can. And there's Sam - asleep still, but turned around. He must have done that without realising... And now his arm is over Gene...

A warmth lights up in Gene's heart at that. That must mean that Sam does still want to touch him, at least subconsciously. That's good...

... But he doesn't want Sam to think that he's forcing him. Doesn't want Sam to wake up and think that Gene's positioned him this way, or that Gene instigated it...

He's going to have to move. He'd love to turn around and return the hug, to lie there will his arms around Sam as well, but he can't. But while Sam doesn't want it. The trust they've built up is too strong and necessary for him to jeopardise it by acting selfishly now. So regretfully, Gene slides out from under Sam's arm and off the bed as carefully as he can and stretches to try and wake himself up. He's going to need to start packing their stuff up soon... Maybe he can do it before Sam wakes. Surely they'll have to move soon.

A look out of the window shows a dawn-like sky, cloudy with a chance of rain. At least if it does piss it down they can try and catch some of it. Best to try and start moving before the morning drags on, in any case. Quietly, Gene begins packing up their supplies.*
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Sam Tyler
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*When Gene moves, Sam gives a sleepy grunt, but he doesn't wake up yet, his head simply nestling into the pillow a bit further. The involuntary close contact has calmed him, and even with Gene's presence gone, Sam keeps sleeping, not reacting to the faint noises Gene's activities are causing. *
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene makes sure to cram the bags as full as they'll go, packing the food and water and padding them out with as many medical supplies in the room that he can find. There aren't many, but the roll of bandage and the gauze should be handy - he'll need them to redress Sam's bite later. There are also disinfectant wipes - better take them as well.

When he literally can't find anything else useful, Gene forces the bags closed and leans back against the wall with a stress-relieving puff of breath. They're ready to go... And that means heading back out into the streets. Making progress is dangerous, and while he definitely wants to catch up to the others, venturing out of this little safe space they've found is still a risk. A necessary one, but a risk all the same.

Gene doesn't want to wake Sam up before he's ready, but looking at the weather outside they'd better make a move sooner rather than later. So reluctantly, Gene quietly walks to Sam's side and shakes his shoulder gently.*

Rise and shine, the sun's got 'is hat on.
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Sam Tyler
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*As the minutes pass, Sam does surface very slowly, though he's still nowhere near properly when Gene moves up to him again and places his hand on his shoulder.

That does the trick, though maybe not quite the way Gene would have liked it to. The touch, gentle as it may be, comes unexpected even when Sam had been sleeping so peacefully, and his eyes fly open as he flinches and inhales sharply, staring up at Gene.

And once again, his sleep-addled mind only sees a big looming shade, doesn't put one and one together quickly enough... In the millisecond after his eyes opening, Sam's body is reacting automatically, trying to back away from what his mind perceives to be a threat.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Jesus... He should have expected that.*

Whoa, whoa... S'just me. S'your Guv. Okay?

*He lets go of Sam's shoulder, backing up enough to give Sam some space - hopefully enough to calm him down. Show he's not a threat.*

Think it's time to face the land of the living. Sun's already up...
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam's mind clears the moment Gene backs up, and he exhales slowly, relaxing visibly. Christ... Is this what it's gonna be like every time from now? Sam closes his eyes again for a moment, listening to the frantic beat of his heart. He doesn't want to react to Gene like this. Why can't his body listen, for once?

Then, he levers himself up until he's sitting on the bed, suppressing a yawn and stretching a little clumsily. The bite still reacts to every motion he makes with his arm, twinging and itching. Sam grimaces slightly, before finally looking at Gene properly.*

*mutters* Land of the living dead, more like...

*Sam stares at the floor for a moment, trying to sense whether or not he's going to be able to actually stand up. He feels... Somewhat rested, though there is a lingering exhaustion deep inside him, like a chore that will always be there, no matter what.

Still, after a few moments, Sam pushes himself up to his feet.

And it works. He doesn't feel dizzy, his legs don't feel weak - he can do this.

That fact is enough to raise Sam's mood considerably, and he looks up at Gene again, his expression brightening up.*

Looks like I'm ready, at least.
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Gene Hunt
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*Relieved, Gene stands back and admires the sight - Sam standing up, sturdy and with some proper colour in his cheeks. Seems that the rest, food and water have done the trick.*

'Bout bloody time, too. *smiles just a little, Sam's brightness catching.*

Everything's packed - think those noodley legs of yours'll hold up if you take a bag?
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam hesitates for a moment before nodding.*

We've got to try it, at least.

*he looks around, and finds that the water bottle he'd used before they went to sleep is still there, next to the bed. He picks it up and unscrews the lid - he still needs more liquid, he can feel it. And he knows he'll feel stronger once he's had more.

And indeed, as he lowers the bottle again (it's empty now), he does feel refreshed. Ready to tackle the day.*

... alright.

*he nods over to the backpacks, which look about ready to burst*

Which one's mine?
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene nods at one of the packs, shrugging the other onto his back. He's made sure to take most of the weight, though with both bags still being full he's only managed to spare Sam a little.*

We can stop as often as you need. I'll have to change your bandage at some point, too. Hopefully we'll be able to find a good place to settle down for the night.

*There isn't any point in rushing too much - they definitely need to get a move on, but when it comes to actual speed, they can't exhaust themselves. The others have a big headstart now, but if they pace themselves and make steady progress, it's just possible they might catch up... *
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam picks up the bag, hefting it onto his shoulder experimentally. The good one is fine, even with the backpack being as heavy as it is, but Sam is hesitant to put the weight on his bad one... Still, it should be alright. It has to be.*

Okay. I'll pipe up.

*takes a breath, then releases it slowly.*

Alright then. Ready.
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Gene Hunt
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Good.

*Okay... Here we go... *

Stay behind me. Cover me if you need to, otherwise just keep an eye out, let me deal with any stragglers.

*He takes a deep breath, securing his backpack on his own shoulders and taking out his knife. They'll have to find a way out - they could come back the way they came, climb the fence... But that uses up energy. It might be better to head for the main entrance and unlock or unbarricade it from the inside...

As they head out of their little safe haven, Gene looks up at the signs on the wall. Hmmm.*

The main entrance shouldn't be far... I dunno about you but I don't really fancy climbing over another bloody fence.
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Sam Tyler
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*While Sam agrees that him staying behind Gene definitely is for the better, the thought of Gene dealing with the walkers all on his own sends a spike of uneasiness through Sam. He's recovering well - walking is much less of a problem than it was yesterday - and he's slowly starting to contemplate the possibility that he will be alright... And that he is immune to the zombie virus. That doesn't make him invincible, of course, but it does raise his chance of survival a good bit...

But that immunity doesn't extend to Gene, and that is what worries Sam deeply.

Still, for the moment all he can do is nod and follow Gene, muttering "Got it". They can't discuss this now, and Sam doesn't really allow himself to think about his immunity right now anyway.

Gene's suggestion does make sense from the standpoint of preserving energy - plus... *

Agreed. And maybe the others left a message there...
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene doesn't really expect there to be a message - they all seemed to understand that they'd never see him again when he made them leave. But it's worth looking.*.

Maybe. Just seeing no trace of 'em would be enough.

*At least then it means they made it out. That they're definitely not here, alive or--

Or otherwise.

Cautiously Gene leads the way through the corridors, avoiding all open doorways. If they stay quiet and swift then even if they do come across some walkers they may be able to sneak past.

It's only a few minutes before they reach the entrance to the main lobby, and therefore the main doors. They've been heavily barricaded, but it should be easy to dismantle it from this side - Gene's just a little too wary still to walk right out into the wide open room. Instead, he hangs back, peering out at it from behind a corner.

He whispers*

Look clear to you?
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Sam Tyler
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*Following after Gene, Sam has to agree - finding no trace of them whatsoever would probably be preferable... But Sam can't give up that tiny sliver of hope just yet. Saying goodbye to the team hurt, even in his fever haze, and now being alive while knowing that everyone else he knows thinks he's dead... It's difficult to think about.

Still, Gene is right. So Sam remains silent, instead concentrating in their surroundings. He's determined to do the best he can - any less could get them killed, after all.

When they reach the main lobby, Sam's eyes immediately are drawn to the barricades. They shouldn't be too difficult to deal with, but Sam's mind latches onto the question of who built it, and when.

First things first, though.

Sam's gaze wanders through the lobby, lingers on the many hallways leading up to it. It sounds quiet... The moaning is very distant, there are no shuffling sounds...

But at the same time, the quiet makes Sam suspicious. *

*in a low voice*

Might wanna throw something out there...

*he glances at the floor and quickly picks up a piece of rubble - enough of that lying around here... He hands it to Gene, who's got a better overview of the room (plus his throwing arm isn't impaired). *

Go on.
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Gene Hunt
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*Smart. That's what that is. He takes the stone with a sly smile*

Knew I kept you around for something.

*holding his breath, Gene draws his arm back and throws the rock into the open space, tensing up as it clatters across the ground.

.......

Nothing. No sudden moans, no crashes in response.....

It seems okay. Thank god.

Relieved, Gene releases his breath and stands up straighter.*

Okay. I'll start on the barricade. You hang back and keep your eyes peeled, scream like a girl if you see anything.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam gives a little smile in return - it's a simple enough thing, but he's glad Gene appreciates it nonetheless.

And the fact that the lobby seems to be clear for them does even more to brighten Sam's mood. He nods in response to Gene, clearing his throat experimentally.*

Dont know about the screaming part, but I'll let you know at any rate.

*And carefully, they make their way into the lobby... Looking at it, it's a miracle that the doors are still intact, let alone barricaded. Sam is curious over who actually did that... Whether it was done to keep the infected inside, or whether someone needed to keep a hoarde out...

Sam lets his gaze wander across the room slowly as he turns his back on Gene, his own knife at the ready. He's listening hard, trying to keep an eye on all the hallways leading to and away from the lobby - if they get attacked now, he probably won't get a chance to hang back, no matter what Gene said... So he better be ready. *
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene moves forward, dropping his backpack on the ground before starting to dismantle the barricade as quickly and as quietly as he can. He too is wondering who did this - was it Ray and the others? If not then how did they get in here? The same way he and Sam had? Did they even make it?

So many questions he fears he'll never know the answers to. All he can hope is that the others made it in and used another exit.

Suddenly concerned, Gene drops the chair he's just picked off the pile on the floor and turns to Sam.*

You think it was Ray that did this?
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam turns to look over at Gene, in the process also taking a closer look at the makeshift barricade. It's a good question, that's for sure... *

... Well, there's not much dust around... *glances down at the ground* Look, there's drag marks 'ere. Whoever did this, they did it recently... But how recently, I can't tell.

*looks up at Gene again.*

If it was them, they must've had a good reason to do it... *And the only good reason to take this much time to barricade a door would be to fend off a hoarde...

... Or maybe to lead people to a different entrance...?

Sam blinks.*

We got in through the garage... But there must be different entrances apart from this one... What if that's how they got out? What if this barricade is a kind of... Hint? To go look for that other entrance and...

*... And what? Find a message? Supplies? It's stupidly optimistic thinking, Sam knows it... And Ray wouldn't come up with something like that...

... But maybe Annie would.*
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Gene Hunt
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*a sceptical look on his face, Gene shoves his thumbs into his belt loops, preparing himself for a disagreement. Sam may be happy to explore further, but the vibes Gene got from the upper floors doesn't really instill him with confidence.*

You want to go poking about even more in this place? You joking? It's as dark and cobwebby as me nanna's nether-regions. We've found the main exit, let's just get out of 'ere and back into the open.
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam isn't really up for arguing - he barely got his energy back to walk - but the thought of finding some sign of life... some sign that the team was here, it nags at Sam. They may have been absolutely positive that Sam was dead by the time they got here, but somehow, he can't imagine that they would have written Gene off that easily... He knows Annie wouldn't have.*

Just the ground floor. *takes a breath, gathering his thoughts* I know it's a risk... but it might pay off. If we find a hint as to where they were off to, we wouldn't just wander about aimlessly out there.

*hesitates for a moment, before adding* And I... I don't like the fact that the main exit has been blocked off this way. It looks like someone was extremely desperate to keep something out.
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene's lips stick out in a pout as he considers. It WOULD be nice to know whether they'd left any sign of life... He knows they probably assumed him dead by the time they left, but they're detectives - they may just have thought to leave a clue, just in case...

Caught in indecision, Gene looks at the barricade once more and then back at Sam.

Dammit, he can't say no. Not right now, when he can see how tired Sam looks. And those damn puppy dog eyes.*

Ugh, fine. Five minutes. Any more and we're pushing our luck.
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam releases a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, and nods.*

Agreed.

*He lets his gaze wander over the various abandoned hallways once again, his eyes straining to see any details through the gloom... Until he spots something.*

Look.

*Sam points to the far end of the lobby, where there's quite a lot of dust... And because of that, the footprints left in it stand out all the more. Sam makes his way over there, moving cautiously and listening out for any suspicious noises.*

*quietly,as he walks* Those look recent...
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene isn't happy as he and Sam slowly make their way further down the corridor. He doesn't like it - knowing that their escape was right there in front of them and they're walking away from it - but at least there's a time limit on this little jolly hike.

He's about to call time when Sam pipes up, snapping him out of his tense state of constant alert. Footprints in the dust... And lots of them.

Either that's a very good thing or an extremely bad thing.

Suddenly hyper-aware of their surroundings, Gene asks under his breath,*

... You think that was a hoards of friends or enemies?
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam shakes his head, still speaking quietly*

There's hardly any skid marks... I don't think a hoarde would leave footprints like that. Looks like humans walked along here.

*looks back at the barricaded door, thinking this through*

... If they came in through the door, and then barricaded it... There must be another exit down there.

*But why would they even go to such lengths...? Were they being chased by a hoarde again? Or... Sam frowns, trying to get to the bottom of this.*
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Gene Hunt
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*it doesn't make sense... Why barricade the main doors of they came in another entrance? Unless they just wanted to secure the building... *

S'pose we'd better look, then. But if it's a dead end or we end up crashing a zombie tea party I'm gonna hit you with a big fat 'I told you so'.

*now that it's looking likely humans made these prints and not the undead they may as well check it out. If they don't and end up missing something important then he'll kick himself later. *
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam rolls his eyes at this, but... There /is/ doubt nagging at him. They could be wasting precious time, gallavanting about like this... But at the same time, there's something driving him to look into this, and it's a feeling he's not had since...

Well, since he was a proper detective, before the world went mad.

He needs to look into this.

Sam makes sure to stay by Gene's side as they make their way down the corridor, carefully avoiding windows and open doorways. They've not come across zombies yet, and Sam can't hear any either... And the footprints are still there. Still leading further down the hallway. *
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Gene Hunt
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*As they approach the end of the corridor, Gene notices something on the ground - there, near a double set of doors...

Wary, he flicks an arm out to stop Sam from walking. There's hope rising in his chest, but at the same time this new world's taught him well enough that everything isn't always what it seems. What looks like a piece of paper and some kind of can could well be a trap rather than some sort of lucky find or a gift. *

'Ey, you see that?
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam stops abruptly as Gene blocks his path with his arm, taking a small but sharp breath. Does he--

... yes. There, on the ground...

Sam's eyes narrow, but in the gloom it's hard to make out what exactly it is, sitting there so innocently...*

... yeah. Hang on...

*Carefully, Sam shifts his bag down a little, reaching into one of the sidepockets, and there... the flashlight he's been using so sparsely. He's got batteries to refill it with, but still, he makes sure to use it only when necessary.

And now, he feels, it is necessary.

Half-shielding the bulb even before it's glowing - to make sure the flash doesn't carry too far, doesn't attract unwanted attention - Sam points the torch at the floor and then flicks it on, carefully directing the stream of light at the object ahead of them. There, that should do the trick...*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene watches as Sam lights up the torch, keeping a wary eye on their surroundings - if this is some kind of trap then a torch beam's going to be like a beacon.

When the light finally reaches the objects, he squints at them - What the hell is it?

In a hushed voice, Gene whispers and gives Sam a prod.*

Looks like some kind of can and a bit of paper... Bit of an odd bait of this really is some kind of ambush...
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam glances at Gene before directing his attention towards the objects again. That is very true... A can of food might fool someone hungry enough to lunge for it, but what about the paper? Sam shifts the light ever so slightly, trying to see if there's any wires attached to the can... But there's nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Finally, Sam allows himself to think about the other possibility.*

... What if this isn't an ambush... But a message?

*The message he'd been hoping for.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene's also hoping that's what it is - but optimism is hard to find nowadays. Safer to expect the worst case scenario.

Taking a breath, Gene stands up fully and braces himself. He's going to have to go for it. He's the best equipped to go check this out right now. Sam should hang back... *

Only one way to find out...

*sets off ahead of Sam, towards the objects. If there's going to be an attack it'll be now. *
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Sam Tyler
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*As Gene moves forward, Sam can feel himself growing even more tense than he already was. His gut is telling him that there won't be an attack, but in the world they're living now, triple and quadruple checking is the key to survival... And this, right now, is a risk.

So Sam waits with baited breath, watches as Gene takes step after step, listens hard and tries to see into the gloom ahead, to see if anything is moving... But so far there's nothing. Hopefully it's going to stay that way...!*
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Gene Hunt
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*cautiously Gene makes his way over to the objects and bends to pick them up. A can of chick peas and a folded piece of paper.

So not a trap, then.

It must be Ray and Annie, it must be.

Tense, Gene looks back at Sam and then unfolds the letter, his hesitant eyes finally resting on the scrawled words. He's already said his goodbyes... What are they going to say here? It's hugely encouraging that they didn't just forget him, but... It feels odd reading this while they think he's dead... *
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam meets Gene's gaze silently, but with growing anticipation. No trap was triggered, it's still quiet around them... And now Gene is reading. Sam is itching to know what the letter reads, but he says nothing, giving Gene the time to read properly.

The letter reads as follows, in quick, neat, but also slightly frantic and shakey handwriting - Annie's handwriting.

Dear Guv

I don't know why I'm writing this. Phyllis told me not to, but

No, that's not important.

I don't know if you're alive. I hope you are. I hope you find this.

We're going North, as planned. Via the route Sam marked as safest.

Good luck.

Annie.
*

Several words have been crossed out and written again (like "Sam" , and "Guv" - that one had been changed to "Gene" , and then back again) , and there are a few brittle spots on the paper, as though they'd been wet and then dried again.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene's heart both drops and rises at the same time as he reaches the bottom of the letter. Annie didn't give up on him. She hasn't just assumed that he's dead and gone. The thought is more touching than Gene can say.

Face stony as he hands the letter to Sam, Gene tries not to dig too deeply into his emotions - to let himself feel that loss of his team all over again? He can't do it.

And at least this means they're alive. At least it makes they were here and they left safely... *
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam can't read Gene's expression as he hands him the letter, but for a moment, he fears that this won't be what they were hoping for...

But then, he recognises Annie's handwriting, and a stones drops off his chest. Granted, the fact that the letter is addressed to Gene only leaves him feeling... Odd, but at the same time, there are some important clues in there.*

*exhales* So they made it in and out, in one piece. *looks up at Gene* and I know which route they've gone for as well.

*Sam allows himself a small smile - this is the best outcome they could've hoped for, short of reuniting with the team!*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene supposes Sam's right. It's a good thing they're gone, and it's a good thing Sam knows the route they'll have travelled. If they work hard, maybe there's still a chance they'll catch up and be reunited...

Allowing himself to untense just a little, Gene sighs and grunts a reply.*

Well then, we better try and catch up. The two of us, we should be a tad quicker than the larger group if we work at it.

*looks down at the can of chick peas and can't help a small huff of laughter escaping. After a moment, he holds it out for Sam to take.*

'Ere. These look like something you'd have eaten even before the bloody apocalypse!
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam nods as he starts to feel determination well up inside him. They have a chance - a real one. Now if they can just find the exit the others used...

But before Sam can say anything, Gene holds out the can to him. Sam looks down at it with surprise, but then... He laughs, softly.*

No way.

*Still, contrary to his words, he takes it, then carefully deposits it in his backpack. It feels like he's taking care of a treasure.

Then, however, Sam directs his attention, along with the flashlight's beam, back at the floor. And... There. More tracks left in the dust, leading away from them, further down the hall. *

Look... There must be an exit down that way. Most of those tracks are leading away from 'ere.
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene follows Sam's gaze, watching as the torch beam lights up the tracks in the dust. It looks like the group alright - no blood droplets, no leg-dragging scuffs... It must be them.

Hefting his rucksack up a little higher on his back, Gene begins to move forward, leading the way down the hall*

The sooner we bugger off out of 'ere the sooner we can start catching up with 'em. I dunno about you, but I'm damn eager to see Ray's face when he sees your ghost!
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam is more relieved by Gene's choice to move forward than he would care to admit - he'd been afraid that Gene would insist on using the main entrance. As it is, however, they start moving down the narrow hallway, following the tracks left in the dust and dirt. Sam makes sure to keep the beam of his torch low, half-shielding it with his hand, so that it doesn't shine too far ahead and give away their position.

The thought of Ray's face upon seeing him again makes Sam grin involuntarily, and he gives a small chuckle*

He'll probably try to punch me to see if I'm real.
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene gives Sam an amused sideways glance.*

You scare me again and I'll beat him to it.

*the footprints round a corner, which Gene cautiously peers around before taking a step out into the empty space*

Looks like they got in through the opposite side to us. Typical.
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam returns Gene's glance, his eyebrows raised.*

...I'll keep that in mind.

*He's joking as well, of course, but... Gene basically implied that he was scared earlier. Probably when Sam woke up again from his fever, unturned. Of course he knows that Gene must have been more than worried, but it's something else for his partner to basically admit to it.

Sam doesn't bring it up any further though - he merely makes sure to keep the torch light on the tracks in front of them.*

I suppose they didn't want to test their luck on the gates the way we did...

*Then, after a few more minutes, he spots something up ahead - a dim light. A window, most likely. He switches off the torch, needing to preserve as much of the batteries as possible. But a window is good - it means they've reached another outer wall. And maybe the exit the team used. *
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Gene Hunt
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'Course they didn't. Not as athletic and flexible as us, are they!

Imagine Ray throwing Phyllis over the fence like a caber.

Actually, don't. Makes me wish we'd seen that now.

*Gene leads the way round the corner towards the light, and...

They come face to face with the front of an ambulance. Sticking through the wall and covered in rubble, a conveniently sized hole punctured down the left hand side. Gene's eyebrows raise.*

Someone's been havin' fun!
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam can't help it, the mental image Gene is conjuring up makes him grin broadly. Talking about the team like that... It makes it a lot easier to believe that they're still alive, still.... Real.

Sam is about to reply, when they round the corner and come face to face with the van. It stops Sam in his tracks and leaves him speechless for a moment. His gaze roams down, scanning the rubble... This is fairly recent, though it's hard to tell just how recent. It could have been their team's doing... But would Phyllis have let them cause a huge crash like this? It would have been one hell of a risk - the bang would have drawn walkers in from several miles around the hospital.

Suddenly, Sam finds himself wondering if the others really will be okay.*

I guess that's our route outside then... *Sam hesitates, then adds* Bit showy, innit? D'you think this was... Them? Ray?
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene's thinking exactly the same thing. It could have been them... But there's no way they'd have done this as a first option. If it was a choice of hop a fence or crash an ambulance through the wall and they chose the latter... Well. Not a smart choice.

He squares his jaw, forcing that out of his mind. It couldn't have been them. Not unless they were running from something and lost control... *

I know Ray likes to make a mess, but this too risky, even for him. Reckon it was accident - either someone very desperate or very stupid.

*for everyone's sake, he hopes they were stupid. Makes them less of a threat.*

We'd better toddle off sharpish. Don't know if they're still around - or if what they were running from is.
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Sam Tyler
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... yeah.

*Sam agrees with Gene - or at least, he wants to. He doesn't want to assume that the others were desperate enough to have to take such drastic action.

Shifting his backpack slightly (it's been bothering the wound on his shoulder and neck), Sam takes a hesitant step towards the opening in the wall. It's been quiet apart from their talking, so they probably should be safe... But it leaves Sam with more than just an uneasy feeling in his gut to leave the relative safety of four walls and a ceiling around them. On the other hand, he's eager to make progress, to catch up with the team...

Sam stops, turning around to look at Gene. Before they go outside, he has to say one thing, has to make sure...*

Promise you'll be careful out there. No reckless one-man-missions.

*Right now, Sam is in no condition to help with anything... So he needs to make sure Gene doesn't think he needs to take on Sam's share of risk...*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene doesn't miss the way Sam adjusts his backpack - the bite's still bothering him, then... He'll have to keep an eye on that.

And as for Sam's request? Well it certainly isn't Gene's intention to be reckless... But with Sam at less than a hundred percent he knows he's going to have to take on a lot of the physical responsibility for a few days,and along with that, a lot of the risk.

But he's prepared. To keep Sam safe, he'll do anything.*

Does that mean no bungee-jumping? 'Cos I had that scheduled for later today.

*gently claps Sam on the shoulder, encouraging him forward as Gene begins to walk. Leaving the enclosed space feels dangerous, but in reality it's just as dangerous inside as out, especially in a building that others may be looking to target for spoils.

He goes first, ducking through the crumbling hole and climbing over the large bits of wall decorating the ground.

So far it looks pretty safe...*

Alright - through the rabbit hole, Alice.
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam rolls his eyes as Gene avoids to give a straight answer - too bloody typical... And it does nothing to quench the anxiety that's making his chest tingle and tighten.

He's not given a chance to insist though as Gene makes his move, gently pushing Sam along as well. And he does have to concentrate now, seeing as his legs still don't feel as strong as they could, concentrate on not stumbling, slipping on pieces of rubble. He makes sure to hold onto the wall as he moves, carefully navigating through the hole.

And there - daylight. Sam blinks as he straightens his back, shading his eyes as he looks into the distance. Spending time in that hospital made it easy to forget that they were in a city... The building felt like an island in a stormy ocean. But now Sam sees the houses, the office buildings, and strangely, it's a calming sight.

Sam shifts his gaze up to look at the sun, just about peaking through a haze of clouds and fog. It's not too late in the day yet, then...*

We need to find an exit that'll lead us North East... And we should make sure to stay close to places we can find shelter.

*Sam is in no state to run or fight... They definitely need to take that into account.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene breathes deeply, the fresh air flushing out the remnants of stale hospital from his lungs.*

We'll walk 'til we reach the edge of the city or it gets dark, whichever comes first. You're right, we don't wanna be caught with nowhere to hide. Not 'til you're back in peak ballet-dancing condition, anyway.

*He gives Sam one more look up and down, assessing how strong he looks.*

You ready, then?


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Sam Tyler
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*Sam turns to Gene as he asks that question.

Is he ready?

He can't see himself, but in the daylight, Sam still looks deadly pale, with dark circles around his eyes. Of course it's not unusual to look fatigued during a zombie apocalypse, but this is taking it one level further. The fever has taken its toll on him and left its marks. And Sam knows he won't be able to walk for as long as he'd like, not with the heavy backpack and the bite throbbing faintly as his body works to close it.

Still, he has to be ready. Anything else is not an option.

So Sam nods.*

Ready.
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Gene Hunt
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*Determinedly not focusing on the paleness of Sam's skin, Gene nods and turns to face the open space in front of them.*

Alright. Let's get our arses in gear, then.

*And with that, they're off. Gene hopes that Sam remembers the layout on the map and knows which direction to head in - he knows the general layout, but not as well as Sam. Turns out now they have a set path they need to follow, Gene's missing that damned map.

But they have food and water, which is more than they usually have... So they'll just keep walking until they need to stop.*
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam gives a silent nod in return, and then they are off indeed.

It takes Sam a little while, but finally they come across one of the bigger intersections, and there he finds the signs he needed - further up North, to Durham, where the safe place is supposed to be. It's still quite a trek that's awaiting them, but they can do this. They have to.

The town they're in isn't very big, and the hospital was at its outskirts, so they soon reach a point that places them undeniably out in the open. Sam is still feeling alright, and they haven't encountered any walkers, which is a blessing. All in all, things seem to be beginning to look up... but Sam won't let his guard down, and there's no doubt in his mind that Gene will do the same.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene like Sam continues with his guard up. He's responsible for Sam, and even more so while he recovers. They continue slowly but surely, camping out in any buildings that look safe and moving in the shadows.

It's weird, being on their own. They've been in a large group since the outbreak started, and now on their own it feels.... Quiet. Calmer in a lot of ways. But with that comes the feeling of being vulnerable and exposed. And with Sam still hesitant to touch or be intimate with Gene, that feeling of isolation only grows.

But still. It's not bad, being alone with Sam. Quite the contrary. In the group they still had to hide their relationship, but now they finally get some time to themselves. To be free. It puts Gene in a slightly more relaxed mindset. They're trapped in this hell, but free and with each other.

They march on for days, resting, recovering and then moving again until they reach the entrance to yet another town - a rural one this time. A cluster of buildings and houses, surrounded by fields and hills. It'd probably be faster to cut across some of the grassland rather than sticking to the roads, but it's looking a luke grey and dark today, and the lady thing they want is to be caught in the middle of a field in a storm.

Sniffing and looking up at the impending rain clouds, Gene mutters*

Looks like it's about to piss it down.
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam indeed keeps his distance - not because he wants to, or because he doesn't trust Gene anymore, but because he doesn't trust himself. He's been recovering steadily over these few days, the distances he's able to walk without break growning longer and longer, but something is still keeping him away... And he can't help but admit to himself, he's terrified of losing Gene. Terrified to be the cause of his death. And however miniscule the risk, Sam isn't prepared to take it. He'd rather Gene be alive and not all too close, rather than close for a bit, and then... dead. Or worse.

With this fear constantly at the back of Sam's mind, he manages to keep up the walls, despite the heartbroken looks he catches when Gene thinks he isn't looking.

And... despite how it places them in more danger, technically, Sam does somewhat enjoy them being on their own now. It's less stressful to look out just for themselves instead of a group of over 10 people. And sometimes... sometimes, there are moments, when everything is quiet around them, when they've just sat down for a break, when the light filters through a tree they're sitting under... those are the precious times when things seem peaceful.

However, Sam knows that that peace always will be very shortlived, so he doesn't let his guard down. He's still not at 100%, but he still wants to do his part in keeping the both of them safe.

The bite is healing, but very slowly, and Sam takes that as a further sign that this isn't just a simple flesh wound, that there some sort of venom or virus still at work. It throbs particularly viciously whenever Gene redresses it, though Sam has gotten better at hiding his discomfort (or so he hopes). Moving his head about is uncomfortable, as well as carrying the backpack, but Sam doesn't complain. Apart from these things, the bite isn't bothering him all too much.

They've made good time by the time they reach the next village, or so Sam wants to think. They've found no trace of the others yet, which either means they simple haven't caught up yet, or they're following a different road after all.

Or they're dead.

Shoving that thought out of his mind, Sam looks up at the grey sky as well as Gene mentions it, narrowing his eyes. Looks like rain indeed... They've been fairly lucky with the weather lately, but this looks like it could become a proper storm.*

Mmh... better look for shelter.

*Sam's gaze shifts downwards onto the empty streets in front of them. It's as quiet here as it has been everywhere they've passed through so far... but there's something.... different, here. Sam can't put a finger on it, but something about this place is making him... tense.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Shelter usually means finding an office building or abandoned house to try and break into (and most usually just tucking themselves away in a back garden somewhere if not), but this place looks a little more spread out. The houses are separate from each other, meaning that there are a great deal more little alleyways and high fences than in the large city. Lots of places to hide, and therefore lots of places to duck into if it starts tipping it down.

A thought springs into Gene's mind and he snorts a small laugh.*

I dunno. I've half a mind to keep going. Always wanted to see what you'd look like entering a wet t-shirt contest!
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Sam Tyler
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*They'd been moving forward steadily even as they were talking, but now Sam stops, completely caught off guard by such a... Mundane thought. It leaves him speechless for a few moments.

And then he thinks, why didn't you just take the initiative back when you still could?

Sam opens his mouth -

And there's rustling, there's movement, shadows, a glint of something sharp. Sam blinks, and a shape throws itself at Gene, right before his eyes, tackling his partner to the ground with a snarl.

To Sam, in the settling twilight the shape might look like a Walker, but Gene will feel cold steel being pressed to his throat as soon as he hits the ground, hear a growl, "Don't you move yer 'ead sunshine."*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene barely has a moment to breathe, relaxed as he is waiting for Sam's casual reply - before he's knocked off his feet and slammed painfully into the dirt.

The air's knocked clean out of him as he makes impact, scuppering any chance he might have had of fighting back. Panic and fear crash through him like a wave of electricity - What's happening?! Walkers? Is it a walker!? Sam...!

But the sudden feel of sharp metal against his neck freezes all thoughts in his head.

Humans.

..... Even worse.

Gene wants to move, wants to look up and locate Sam - is he okay!? But one move and he'll be leaning in to the knife, and he can already feel his jugular throbbing against the steel at a thousand miles an hour.

Breathlessly, he gasps.*

Bastard....! Get o-off!!
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*Gene may not be able to see his attacker properly, but the ugly grin is /audible/ in the way he's speaking. "Oh I don't think so." And he presses the knife in closer.

It takes just a tiny moment, but then Sam realises what is happening, and fear and rage are flaring up inside him. His knife is out before he even knows it, his eyes only on Gene and his attacker, a ragged looking man dressed in layers and layers of dirty rags.

There's an urge inside him, an urge to just scream and throw himself at the scavenger - stab him, punch him, get him away from Gene - and for a moment it flares up so strongly that Sam gives a snarl, gripping his own knife harder, his entire being focused only on the man.*

Get off him or I swear I'll kill you...!

*And he doesn't even think that, if there is one scavenger, there's bound to be more.... *
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Gene Hunt
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*the man pinning Gene down laughs at Sam's order.

"Save the theatrics, mate. Look behind you."

And if Sam does, he'll see two men approaching, both armed with knives, one of which looks big enough to be called a machete. One's wearing a scarf over his nose and mouth like a thug biker in a movie , the cloth emblazoned with a cruel, decorated smile filled with shark-like teeth.

Sharkface raises the machete, pointing it at Sam's backpack.

"Whatcha got in there, eh? Got some goodies for us?"

From under the first attacker, Gene can do nothing but continue to breathe and force himself not to swallow and inadvertently cut his own artery. Shit. Shit, they're going to take their gear! Without their food and water they're going to be screwed...! How could he take his eye off the ball like this?! He should have seen this coming!

The other voice, muffled slightly from the cloth obscuring the man's mouth and the roaring of blood in Gene's ears... How many of them are there?

Trying not to let the fear and protective rage take him over, Gene grits his teeth and repeats one plea over and over in his head.

Don't hurt him, don't hurt him.... *
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*Sam doesn't move, merely turns his head just enough to be able to glance behind himself... And There they are, two more thugs. They're outnumbered.

No, no, no.

Sam focuses his attention on Gene and the man on the ground again, taking in how the knife is pressing so close to Gene's throat. And even as he watches, the man tenses, his grin becoming wider, and he says, "Drop it, sunshine." He doesn't even add a threat - merely shifts the knife that tiny bit, the metal finally biting into Gene's skin, leaving a thin but visible red line right there.

The sight makes irrational rage flare inside Sam. How dare - how dare they...!! There is something inside him that's scream at him to throw himself at Gene's attacker, to get him off there, to--

But no. No, that would be suicide. Murder and suicide. He can't risk it, can't let them hurt Gene. It's not an option. Not Gene, he needs Gene, they can't hurt him, they can't...

Sam's grip on his knife lets up, and a moment later it clatters down to the ground as he raises his arms in defeat.*
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*Gene flinches as the knife finally slices into his skin, leaving a firey trail in its wake. Jesus, any deeper and...! The command reaches his ears over the thudding of his heart, and it raises a new set of alarm bells in Gene's mind.

Don't, Sam! Don't drop your knife, not your weapon...!

But he hears the metal clatter to the ground. Sam's unarmed.

The two men step forward as Sam raises his arms, grabbing at his clothes and backpack, spinning him around to face them.

"Keep your hands up. Wouldn't want to have to cut 'em off now, would we!"

And with that, one of the men yanks the rucksack from Sam's back while the other begins to frisk him, pulling out the contents of his pockets and throwing his concealed weapons to the ground.*[/i]
Edited by Gene Hunt, Jun 30 2015, 11:58 AM.
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Sam Tyler
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*Satisfied with how his friends are progressing, rag-man leans down until his mouth is close to Gene's ear.

"Right, sunshine, one wrong move an' we'll make minced meat of you an' yer mate right 'ere and now, 'fore any of ya can so much as squeal. You got that?"

Not waiting for an answer he lets up, grabbing Gene's arm to pull him up.

" 'Ands where I can see 'em. Yous alone?"


Sam, in the meantime, grits his teeth as he's wheeled around, glaring straight at the men. His heart is racing as he helplessly watches as one of them goes through his backpack roughly, whooping with delight once he spots the amount of water bottles and canned food stowed away in there.

"Bloody 'ell, someone's been busy!"

Sam doesn't resist much as he's jostled, relieved of the knives, lock picks and other tools he'd collected over the last few months. The anger is still there, anger over someone having dared to touch Gene, his Gene... But that same thought makes Sam keep still. He can't let Gene be hurt by doing something stupid.

There is, however, a hot flash of momentary fear as Sharkface reaches out and roughly tugs down his jacket, revealing the gauze on Sam's neck and shoulder. He'd not even thought about it until this moment, but suddenly, Sam is very aware of the fact that the wound still very clearly looks like a bite. And there's no telling what will happen if these bastards were to realises what it is... He can only hope that they'll assume Sam hurt himself otherwise...!*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene's aware of Sam being patted down as he feels himself tugged up by the arm - and if the others weren't so close to his partner he'd lash out. Try to overpower the bastard still trying to assert his dominance.

But he can't risk it. One wrong move from him and that machete could find its way into Sam's gut. There's no way he can attack with that kind of consequence being a possibility. So with a frustrated grunt, Gene pushes himself up and tries to shrug the man's arm off. He won't press his hand over the cut on his neck, no matter how much it stings. He won't give them the satisfaction.*

Why, you lookin' to start a conga?

*over on Sam's side one of the men seems to have spotted the bandage on Sam's neck. There's nothing odd about people having injuries these days, what with all the various sources of danger around... But he'd better just check.

"What 'appened there?"*
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*Rag-man sneers, keeping a firm grip on Gene. He's a bit smaller than Gene, but that doesn't seem to impress him; he's radiating aggression and superiority, the droplet of blood meandering down Gene's throat egging him on.

"Oh, someone's got a funny bone left in 'em. 'Aven't 'ad one of those in a while."

Then, he as well starts to pat Gene down, eventually finding all the emergency weapons Gene had stashed away, dropping them into a bag of his own.


Sam meets the man's gaze head-on, the disdain and hostility standing so clear in his eyes that they're obscuring any signs of fear.*

*growls* Disagreement with a twat like you.
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene watches as the man pats him down, reaching into his jacket and feeling around his waist... The knife is still in the man's hand, if he just managed to grab and twist the right way he could maybe overpower him. The bloke's just a bit smaller than Gene, but he does look fairly muscular. He's clearly been getting enough supplies to keep himself in good fighting condition, unlike Sam and himself.

But still, if he could just grab that knife hand...

Jaw squared and the flickerings of a plan behind his eyes, Gene keeps his eyes on the knife and grates out his response.*

If it's comedians you're lookin' for I got bad news. Think Undead Bruce Forsyth finished 'em off.



*Sam's guard meanwhile raises an eyebrow at Sam's insult.

"Not clever to be messin' with the bloke who's got you hostage now, is it, Squirt?"

Suddenly serious the man growls, just to be sure.

"What was it? Knife? You bit?"*
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*Rag-man huffs at this, taking the last knife off Gene, but the gaze he regards him with is dangerously. Deadly.

"You try any funny business, you'll get another couple grins all over ya. Don't matter to us if yer alive or not, just gonna be easier to get you to the camp if yer walkin' on yer own. Got that?"


Sam is half listening to the other conversation, the threats issued against Gene raising his hackles once more. Don't you dare hurt him again, don't you dare, DON'T YOU DARE. In this stressful situation, it doesn't even occur to Sam that this rage rolling through him might be unnatural, unusual for him...

In response to Sharkface, he spits out*

Gun.
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Gene Hunt
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*the threat doesn't concern Gene as much as it does Sam - he narrows his eyes, glaring daggers at the man. Just you try it, he thinks.*

Oh golly! You give me another couple of grins and you might just find that comedian you were looking for!

*Gene flexes his knuckles, eyes flicking from the man's eyes to the knife. If he feels that Sam's a safe enough distance away from the others, he might just try to overpower the guy. He's clearly the leader... And with these types of goons, you cut the head off the snow and the body soon follows.*

*the man questioning Sam eyes the bandage suspiciously, but accepts the answer.

"You were lucky, then. Too bad your luck's run out. Turn 'round and put yer hands behind your back."*

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*The man's eyes narrow dangerously - he isn't pleased with Gene's gutsy-ness... Not at all.

A swift motion, and suddenly the knife is pressed against Gene's cheek, close to the corner of his mouth. The pressure increases, until the blade breaks skin. The man stares straight into Gene's eyes as he slowly starts to drag the blade towards Gene's ear.



Left with no options (the machete is too close for his liking), Sam does as he's told... But that brings him face to face with Gene and his opponent. He sees the blade, sees what it's doing to Gene - sees the blood.

Something inside him snaps. With a roar, Sam launches himself forward, everything focused on getting that bastard off Gene, ripping him away, knocking him out, punching, punching, punching--!!*
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*Oh shit... He's actually doing it... He's going to give Gene a Chelsea Smile... Jesus Christ...! Why did he have to open his big mouth!?

The pain sears at him like hot iron, forcing a hiss from his through his teeth. The knife is against his face, parting the skin... if he moves to attack, he could lose an eye or worse... But he can't just stand here and take this!

Anger and defiance welling up inside him, Gene lurches back away from the blade, draws back a fist and--

A Sam-shaped blur collides with the man, knocking him off his footing. It takes a second for Gene to realise what just happened, but as soon as he sees the knife and Sam in such close proximity he charges forward too, bundling on top of them both and grabbing at the man's knife hand, yanking it backwards and upwards, in an attempt to disarm him. He needs to keep that thing away from Sam!*
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*Sam doesn't even notice how Gene throws himself into the fight as well, though the man yells with pain as his hand I yanked back and the knife successfully pried from his grasp. In his rage, Sam is completely focused on his victim, punching him with a strength he shouldn't technically have, not after a long day and still recovering from the fever. The picture of Gene - his skin splitting, blood dripping down the side of his face - is fuelling his strength, is making him hold the scavenger down, because he needs to keep that man away from Gene, can't let him hurt Gene any further, won't let them, WON'T.*

Don't you touch him again, don't you bloody dare, bastard, bloody bastard, stay away from him--!!

*One punch, another, and a third, Sam needs to knock him out, make sure he won't be a threat any longer...!

The other two men must have been thrown off by the ferocity of Sam's attack, but now they're acting. Sharkface is on Gene within a second, violently yanking him back and trying to restrain him, trusting that the other one will deal with Sam.*
Edited by Sam Tyler, Jul 1 2015, 02:17 PM.
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*Sam's shouts sound... deadly, that's the only word Gene can think of to describe it. And while the rage Sam feels is completely understandable, the ferociousness of it takes Gene aback. It's as though his partner's completely snapped!

Shaking himself out of it, Gene turns to the more pressing matter at hand - getting that damn knife away from Sam!

He grabs it from the man's grip, but before he can think about doing any damage with it there are arms around his neck, squeezing and twisting, trying to wrestle him back down to the ground. In a defensive motion, Gene stabs backwards and feels the blade snag something, though he isn't sure what. He just hopes it's flesh rather than clothes.

The third man does indeed go after Sam, giving him the same treatment. He grabs Sam around the neck and yanks backwards, trying to use his own bodyweight to pull Sam off and slam him to the ground.*
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*There's a short cry, a curse, and the grip on Gene doesn't let up - to the contrary, squeezes harder, trying to cut off Gene's breathing entirely to subdue him. This isn't as easy as they'd imagined it would be, and now it's becoming troublesome...! As they squirm on the ground, Sharkface gives a frustrated growl and, quickly freeing one hand, slams his fist into the side of Gene's head.

Sam in the meantime gives a raged filled howl as he's pulled off his victim , but it's cut off quickly and Sam starts squirming and twisting and lashing out, trying to escape the iron-like grip around his neck. However, even with this rage-induced strength, Sam has lost a considerable amount of weight over the last few weeks, not to mention the weakening effects of the fever. If the man fighting him acts quickly, he'll probably be able to subdue him fast enough...

In all this chaos and among the scuffling going on, rag-man is lying on the ground, gasping and momentarily too stunned to really react to the fact that the madman has been pulled off him.*
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*the man does indeed move quickly, holding Sam by the throat and flipping them both over, slamming him face first into the dust. Using his (considerably superior) bodyweight, he throws himself on top of Sam and tries to wrestle one of Sam's arms into the small of his back, rendering him helpless.

"Bastard! Settle down or I'll be breaking this!"

Gene meanwhile isn't ready for the blow to the head, and as it hits the knife clatters from his hand. All this motion around his head and neck are making the cuts he's already sustained stretch and twist, and as his breathing is finally cut off spots start to form in front of his eyes. He gasps, both hands flying up to try and pry the arm from around his neck, but the cloth that he grasps feels oddly wet and sticky. It's blood. His blood, now smeared messily all over one side of his face and neck, staining the looter's sleeve.

Realising that he's going to lose consciousness if he doesn't do something, Gene stamps down hard on the bloke's foot. It's all he can do... *

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*Sharkface cries out again, both in pain and frustration, as Gene hits his foot, but he still doesn't let up - this is too important a catch to be bested like this. Staggering slightly, he takes Gene with him, trying to gain momentum to throw his victim to the ground as well. The man is bleeding all over his sleeve... If he keeps pressing, Gene should get the message and stop fighting...! Still, he breathlessly rasps into Gene's ear, "Stop squirming y'pig or those are yer last few breaths...!"

Sam chokes as he hits the ground face-first, still squirming, fighting back- but then pain shoots up his arm, straight up into the wound, drawing a pained yelp from him. Shit, he can't just give up, Gene, where is he, what's happening--!

Sam tries to turn his head, to catch a glimpse of his partner, but it's no use.

In the meantime, rag-man has recovered, getting up from the floor, eyes filled with rage. Both their victims are struggling... Gene is closer to him, so he gets to bear the first brunt if rag-man's anger on his way over to Sam. He kicks at whatever he can get of Gene, his steel-capped boots sure to leave hefty bruises, if not more.

But rag-man doesn't linger there - it was Sam who threw him to the ground and gave him a black eye and a throbbing head, as well as a good dent in his pride.*
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*Gene hears Sam's yelp just as he's yanked into overbalancing and crashes to the ground. He's all ready to keep fighting, but that sound... He can't see Sam and he has no idea what caused his yelp of pain... And if he keeps fighting he'll pass out. He's no help to Sam unconscious....!

Straining for breath and desperate for a glance of Sam, Gene finally stops fighting. He gasps out a reply, letting go of the man's arm in a show of surrender.*

'Kay, K--kay, you w-win!!

*The sudden kick to his ribs robs him of the little breath he has left, sending him into a coughing fit.

But Ragman does indeed have his eyes on Sam next. Little bastard has more fire in him than it seemed! Eyes focused, he leans down and picks up his discarded knife.

Shoving Sam's captor off of him, Ragman seizes Sam by the lapels and slams him into the ground again.

"Little BASTARD!"

He delivers a swift backhand to Sam's face with a snarl.

"You don't even know who you're dealing with!"

He gives Sam another shake.

"You're my property now! Both you and the oaf! And you try anything like that again....! "

To emphasise his point, the man jabs the point of the knife against Sam's groin and holds it there threateningly.

"You'll have to limp back to camp with yer balls round yer neck!"*
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*Sharkface gives Gene's throat another squeeze, just as a reminder, then finally lets up.

"Don't move," he snarls as he reaches behind him and into his bag, his hand quickly emerging with a length of rope. Tugging Gene's arms back roughly and without caring about the fact that his victim is curled up and coughing from that kick to his ribs, he ties Gene's wrists behind his back, pulling the rope as taught as he can. They won't allow this one to free himself, not before they've reached camp...

Once he's done, he yanks Gene up by his arm, growling impatiently.



Sam barely has time to recover from the strain to his arm when he feels himself being grabbed - and then his head hits the ground hard. Sam grunts with surprise and pain, too dazed momentarily to react. The slap catches him unawares, leaving his ear ringing and his mind even more clouded, making him blink against the haze that is threatening to settle on his vision...

And then, there's that sharp poke to his groin, and Sam freezes up, breathing hard. Goddammit...! He's recovering slowly, his head still throbbing with pain, but he manages to keep his eyes open, to glare straight at Ragman. The threat sounds real, and given what that man did to Gene just minutes before, he's likely to go through with it... but thinking about what he did do to Gene is enough to keep Sam's blood boiling - is enough to make him short-circuit, and spit right in Ragman's face.*
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*Ragman flinches as Sam spits. Then, slowly, his eyes open, face hard as stone. How... How dare this maggot disrespect him like this!?

Voice low and dangerous, he seethes through his teeth.

"That.... Was a mistake."

*Swiftly and smoothly he flips the knife around so that the hilt protrudes from the bottom of his fist, then proceeds to lash downwards. The hard blunt end of the weapon strikes Sam across the temple, hard.

Gene isn't even aware of what's happening to Sam as he tries to catch his breath. He's barely even aware of his hands being pulled behind his back and looped with rope.

But even so, even through all the pain and breathlessness, he can sense that something's off... Something's wrong...

Feebly he croaks out into the dirt,*

...S-Sam....
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*Sam glares back defiantly until the very last moment - until he sees the knife flash in the dying light, which is when some of his irrational anger evaporates, leaving panic behind, and he tries to get away, to protect himself--

There's a short flash of light behind his eyes as the hilt strikes his temple, and then there's nothing. Sam's head has jerked to the side from the force of the strike, which also left a gash in the side of his head.

Sharkface, having watched, gives an annoyed groan.

"Oh, bloody fantastic. Who's gonna carry the little squirt then? Y'can bet yer balls I won't." He's still holding onto Gene's arm firmly, forcing him to stay upright.*
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*Finally able to open his eyes and fill his lungs properly, Gene sags against the man's arms and gasps out again.*

Sam...

*And there... That shape on the ground...

.... Sam...

A rush of adrenaline floods through Gene's system, the pain from the bruises and incisions forgotten in an instant.

What have they done...!?

With a breathless snarl, Gene lurches forward and shouts hoarsely,*

What did you do to 'im!!
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*Ragman gets up from the ground, disgustedly wiping his face. "Taught the little maggot a lesson."

The third man pokes Sam roughly with his boot, but doesn't get a reaction.

Ragman continues, "We've got to get back, made enough of a racket already."

"Are we takin' 'im?" asks Sharkface, nodding at Sam' 's unconscious form.

" 'course. Would be stupid if we didn't." Ragman shakes his head, waving off Sharkface's starting protest. "Let the oaf carry 'im." He turns to Gene, brandishing his blade at him with a snarl. "You so much as tiptoe outta line an' we kill the both of ya straight away." Observing Gene for one more second, taking into account the way he reacted earlier, he adds, "Starting with the maggot. You got that?"*
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*they'll kill Sam... So he's still alive... Thank god...!

Gene processes what they're saying through a foggy mind, his face a picture of confusion and concern. Their bags have already been raided - What more could these thugs possibly want from them?!

Eyes flicking from the leader to Sam, Gene forces his voice to stay as steady as it can. These bastards have already beaten them - he can't crack now, he has to stay strong - he has to get Sam out of here.*

I'm not doing 'owt until you show me he's okay. *nods down at Sam, grimacing at the sting in his neck as he does*
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*Rag-man growls impatiently, his eyes flaring. His patience is running dangerously low...

"Bloody hell what are you, poofters? Go grab 'im already, we' avent got all day."

" 'Ang on... " That's Sharkface, pulling our a blade of his own. Gene's hands are tied already, but if Ragman says he's gonna carry the little maggot, then that is how it's gonna be...

"Bloody waste of a good rope" he mutters as be cuts it apart. But before Gene can say anything or think of moving away, the point of the machete, wielded by the third man, stabs at his back. Ragman as well is holding his knife far too close to his face.

"No. Funny. Business. You pick up that waste of space, then you follow quietly." The tine of his voice suggests that this is the last warning Gene will get.*
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*shit.. He has no wiggle room here. Either he picks Sam up or it's over for the both of them right here right now.

He gives Ragman a defiant glare, teeth gritted, before slowly moving forward. His chest hurts, his throat is raw from the coughing and his face feels painful and sticky - but he has no choice in this. He'll have to do as they say.

Careful to avoid the threatening blades, Gene eases himself down onto one knee beside Sam. There's a small gash may above his partner's temple, and his body is completely still.... But as Gene watches he can see the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest.

Relieved beyond belief, Gene reaches out and begins gathering Sam up in his arms. And while Sam is reasonably light, Gene is weakened. It takes him a few tries to properly heft Sam up and off the ground.*
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*While Gene works to pick up Sam, Sharkface and his mate pick up their loot - those backpacks still are full with reasonably useful stuff, especially those water bottles.

Ragman is watching over Gene's efforts, tapping his foot impatiently and glancing up and down the road nervously. The sky is grey as lead, and darkness is descending upon them fast now. With the racket they made, he wouldn't be surprised if they'd attracted the attention of a few walkers...

Sam doesn't wake up even as Gene hefts him up into his arms, his head lolling to the side and against Gene's chest. There's nothing left of that strength he showed earlier, no tension.

Once Gene's got a good grip on Sam, Ragman starts walking, knowing that the others will follow. Sharkface once more pokes his machete at Gene. "Move."*
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*Gene's forced to take a step forward as the machete jabs into his back. Sam hasn't moved an inch sincr Gene began trying to haul him up, and that sends a wave of panic rolling through him. Sam can't survive being bitten by a bloody zombie only to die from a knock to the head...!! And with this being the apocalypse, medical treatment is in short supply. Even moreso now that the meager supplies they'd picked up at the hospital have been taken.

Carrying Sam is hard, and it's all Gene can do not to drop him. His arms are tired, his body painful and sore and his muscles weary. But he won't let Sam fall. He'll fall himself before letting Sam slip from his grasp.

But still... He's aware that the sky is darkening and closing in - it'll rain tonight. He's not sure he'll be able to carry on if they're set to walk into the night.

Voice ragged with effort, Gene grunts at the group.*

How long're you gonna be forcin' us on this merry outing, then?
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*No one actually turns to Gene to answer his question, but the third man grunts, "'S long as it takes to get back."

Ragman forces the group to walk at a steady pace, though they aren't as fast as he'd like thanks to unconscious Sam. That thought alone sends fresh bursts of anger through him, and more than once he looks back to glower at Sam, and by extension, Gene. Sharkface takes these glances as cue to urge Gene on, reminding him of the machete's presence. At least the big one will be of use for sure... The examiner is gonna be bound to agree.

They continue on their journey, out of the town again - or, in fact, not quite. Ragman follows it's outskirts until they reach an area that evidently used to be an active coal mine until a few months ago. And there... In one of the buildings next to the mine shafts... A dirty head sticks out of a door.

"Rags?" A hushed voice calls.

"Yeah." Ragman answers, not bothering to keep his voice down. He's too frustrated and tired to be this careful.

Just then, a big droplet lands square on Sam's forehead, and a moment later another one hits Gene's nose.*
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*by the time they reach the coal mines, Gene's flagging. His strength is almost gone and he's parched, mouth dry and lungs tired. And still he has no idea why they're even being marched here. If it was merely supplies the men are after, why didn't they just kill them there and then? And if they're looking to expand their group then treating people like this isn't likely to breed loyal followers... He just can't work it out.

He blinks as the raindrop his his nose. Usually when it rains he'd make the team open their water bottles and gather any kind of receptacle they can find to catch the precious substance. But now he's alone with an unconscious Sam, captured by rogues. His team are nowhere near. Suddenly Gene feels quite alone.

Knees weakening, Gene hefts Sam up once more and tries to summon just a fraction of his usual bravado.*

And hello to you too! Nice weather we're havin'.
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*Once more, Gene is ignored, apart from the fact that he receives yet another warning jab at his back.

The man who greeted 'Rags' narrows his eyes at Gene and Sam, but one glance at Rags seems to pacify him - more so, he relaxes, a quick grin showing on his face. "Good work."

Rags grunts in response, and then the man lets them pass into the building, one by one.

It's gloomy inside, light sources having been dimmed down so as not to attract any unwanted visitors. The group in here is fairly large - a good 20 people, most of them men- and they all look up and the scavenger team as they enter. There's murmuring, glances, especially at Gene. It seems that he is garnering most of their interest, though it's somewhat hard to tell, seeing as he's carrying Sam still.

Sam, whose face is hit by another droplet of rain just as they enter the building. He twitches in Gene's arms, facing pulling into a grimace, and as they make their way inside, he's starting to wake up slowly.

Maybe, as Gene's eyes get used to the gloom and his senses adjust, he'll notice one thing: A very faint smell, strangely familiar, and not exactly an unpleasant one at that...*
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*'Good work'? Good work doing what!? Bringing along more mouths to feed!? Gene's about to make a comment, maybe demand to know once again what's going on - but then he feels a twitch in his arms.

Sam.

Heart taking a leap, Gene looks down at his partner, barely still held in his trembling arms. Jesus, the relief...! Sam needs to wake up right now. He needs to see that there's no permanent damage there, he needs to see that Sam's alright. And if they're going to escape, they're going to need that big brain of Sam's in perfect working order...

The place is dark and ominous-looking as they pass through the doorway, but in the dim light Gene can see the rest of the group. And oddly, they seem to be eyeing him up. Gene swallows down his unease and tries to chalk it up to seeing two new people - it's not every day you see an unfamiliar face any more.

Sam shifts again, a twitch and a barely audible moan - he's still unconscious, but he's definitely going to wake up soon. Thank god...

Then, Gene smells something. Something he's definitely smelt before... and hasn't smelt in a good long while now. It almost smells like... freshly cooked meat....

Something stirs in his gut - not hunger but repulsion. Something about this whole thing seems incredibly dangerous and unsettling...*


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*Sam stirs again, more noticeably this time, moving his head and then his good arm, as if to get a feel for his surroundings. He's completely disoriented... He knows something is wrong, but with his head throbbing as viciously as it is, Sam is finding it hard to gather his thoughts together. He tries to open his eyes, blinking up at Gene but not seeing much apart from darkness and a few blobs.

Sharkface has noticed Sam's stirring as well, and it's prompting hin to snarl at Gene. "Put 'im down. About time you both face the music."

Ragman in the meantime has moved further into the room, towards its center. Most of the people are gathered there, and when they part they reveal a man, sitting on a chair. He looks far too relaxed, limbs dangling off the armrests, and as the crowd parts, he gets up, walking towards Ragman.

"Rags, good to see you. Looks like your hunt went down successful yet again!"

Rags nods, although he seems somewhat... Apprehensive. "Got two of 'em. Big one," he gestures at Gene, "looks most promising. We'll 'ave to see about the thin one, but I didn't wanna pass up the chance."

The tall man nods benevolently, then turns to look over, straight at Gene and Sam.

"No time to lose then. Get them ready for the examination."

The moment the man speaks those words, Sharkface and several other men close in on Gene and Sam, while others start moving about into opposite directions. Some of them pull closed makeshift curtains on the windows, others doctor the lights so that, in the centre of the room, they shine a little more brightly.

The tall man, obviously the leader of this group, rolls up his sleeves.*
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Gene Hunt
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Detective Chief Inspector
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*Everything's suddenly moving so fast - he's being told to put Sam down, but though his arms and back are screaming of course he's not going to do that. He's not letting Sam out of his sight! And then the lights go up, there're people moving and those comments.... they have to 'face the music'? They're gonna be 'examined'?

....What the bloody hell is happening!?

Holding Sam more tightly and ignoring the way that he seems to be stirring even more. He needs Sam to wake up, but things suddenly seem to be taking a dark turn. And why do the group seem to interested in how 'big' or 'thin' they are??

Heart beating hard in his chest, Gene takes a step back. They need to get out of here. And now. He doesn't know what's involved in this examination they talk of, but he doesn't want to find out.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*As Gene takes that step back, he's met with solid, pointy resistance - the man right behind Gene is holding something that looks a lot like a pitchfork, keeping him at distance while effectively threatening him. Sharkface's eyes harden, and when he speaks again, it's clear he won't repeat himself again: "Put. Him. Down. And don't even think about runnin', you won't make it to the door."

Sam squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head slightly to get rid of the headache, but it only seems to be getting worse... but finally, he can make out voices, words even... and he realises that it's Gene who's carrying him. Gene, who feels tense. His arms are shaking, and with Sam's head so close to his chest, he can make out the hard beating of Gene's heart...

They're in danger.

Sam opens his eyes again, trying to get them to focus, trying to regain control of himself...*
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Gene Hunt
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*Shit.... Shit, Sam's waking up and Gene can't comfort him...! Goddammit...!

Gene swallows, fear causing a lump to rise in his throat. And gently, he lowers his head and whispers into Sam's ear, praying that he can hear him.*

M'gonna put you down now... Try not to move, I won't let anything happen to you.

*And then with a glare at Ragman, Gene slowly begins to lower Sam to the ground.*

You gonna explain what we're doin' here or not? 'Cos frankly all this secrecy's a bit bloody babyish.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam can hear Gene loud and clear, but it takes him a few moments to process what the words mean. As soon as he does, however, adrenaline starts to sharpen his sense, so that, when Gene starts to lower him down, Sam shifts until his feet hit the ground, one hand clinging to Gene's shoulder. He's unsteady on his feet still, his head pulsing in time with his heart, but Sam still forces himself to focus, to grit out a few words. *

What's going on...?!

*Before Gene can answer, however, Sharkface reaches out and grabs Sam, pulling him away from Gene before any of the two can react. Immediately, two men take a hold of each of Gene's arms, while another man grabs Sam and restrains him, thinking that the smaller and obviously weaker one of the duo won't be able to put up much resistance.

Rags in the meantime is looking at Gene coldly, but with a clear sense of satisfaction.

"Don't know what yer complaining about - pigs don't 'ave a clue what's goin' on either, til it's too late."

And he nods his head over to where the tall man is waiting, prompting the two men who are restraining Gene to pull him along, over to the centre of the room and away from Sam.*
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