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 Group Roleplay  Horror  Post Apocalyptic  Urban / Dystopian The Yellow Plague IC

Discussion in 'Roleplay Execution' started by Incognus, Jul 20, 2019.

  1. Incognus

    Incognus Master Schemer Member

    Local Time:
    10:18 AM
    The Yellow Plague
    Link to OOC Thread

    "Doctor Hodges? Your patient, Jim Smith, is ready to see you."

    Wendy nodded to the nurse, grabbing her patient's folder before leaving the office and heading to her next appointment. The records showed that she hadn't met with Jim for some time. He'd been quite healthy the past few visits, with only minor problems. His biggest issue had been insomnia, but that was a while ago. She'd recommended Ghentu sleeping pills to him months ago and they were working great. For this visit, it seemed Jim was having some odd muscle spasms that popped up out of nowhere, and numbness in his fingers. Wendy walked down the hall and arrived at the room, knocking lightly before cracking the door open. Sitting on the cushioned medical bench was Jim, a middle aged balding man just a tad overweight. He was staring at the wall, unaware that the doctor had entered the room.

    "Hi Jim, how are you today?" Dr. Hodges asked as she entered, turning to close door behind her. There was no response. She turned back around to find the man still staring at the wall. His gaze was intently focused, and she noticed that his hands were squeezing the edge of the examination table tight enough to make his knuckles go white. "... Jim?" the doctor asked, walking around so that she was more in front of him. Once she was fully in his peripheral vision, Jim snapped out of it. He turned his head sharply towards her and stared with a confused and contorted expression. "Hi. Is everything alright? You seem stressed." she asked him, sitting down on the rolling chair.

    "Something's wrong with me," he stated.

    "Yes well, that's what I'm here for," Wendy smiled. "Now, I need you to tell me what is going on, but first I need you to relax," she told him, motioning towards his hands. Jim looked down at the way he was gripping the table, surprised, and then let go. "Thank you. So, tell me more about about what's going on."

    "I have no fucking clue what's going on!" he retorted, almost yelling at her.

    Wendy was taken aback by his outburst, but she quickly composed herself. "Why don't we start with when this all began."

    "When what bega-?" Jim was cut off by a fit of coughing. He coughed into his left elbow for a couple of seconds, and Wendy noticed his right arm twitch a few times as he did so. Once he calmed down, the doctor spoke up again.

    "Let's start with that. I wasn't aware you were coughing. How long has that been going on?" She asked him. She removed the stethoscope from around her neck and put the earpieces into her ears.

    "Since yesterday."

    "Interesting. Do you mind if I have a listen?" Jim shook his head, and Wendy rolled her chair forward. The chestpiece went under Jim's shirt and was pressed against his rib cage. Wendy furrowed her brows, and moved the chestpiece around to a couple of different spots. She was hearing a lot of wheezing, something common in heavy smokers. "Have you taken up smoking recently?"


    Wendy looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "Jim I need you to be honest with me if we are going to figure out what is going on," she told him, removing her hand from his chest.

    "I am being honest with you!" Jim yelled suddenly. Wendy's eyes went wide and she froze. "You think I'm fucking lying?! I've never smoked anything in my goddamn life!"

    "Jim, I need you to calm down-"

    "Calm down?! How am I supposed to calm down when I'm feeling like this?! You have no idea what I'm going through! All you're doing is poking around with a fucking stethoscope asking me if I've started smoking and that isn't going to fix shit!"

    "Jim," Wendy said cautiously, "Please let go of my wrist."

    He looked down. Jim's hand was gripping Wendy's wrist tightly, enough to bruise. He let go of the doctor, and she quickly rolled back away from him, eyes fixated on her patient while rubbing her wrist with her other hand. "I didn't realize-" Jim began, but he stopped. He stared at his hand while his fingers twitched involuntarily.

    Wendy continued to speak carefully while watching her patient with wary eyes, "It seems to me you may be experiencing some sort of mental issue. I don't have training in that area and not the proper doctor for that, so perhaps you should seek help elsewhere." Jim looked back up at her with an expression of disbelief.

    "Are you telling me to leave? That you aren't going to help me?!" Wendy stood, and Jim stood too. The man placed himself between the doctor and the door.


    "No. Shut up! You've done nothing for me! I came here, waited in that stupid room for over an hour, waited in here after, and you come in and tell me I have mental issues after listening to me breathe?!" Wendy stepped backwards into the corner. She was frightened by Jim's aggression, and he was staring her down with hatred. "You need to tehll me what ish hapuhn-" Jim stopped talking when he began to slur. He blinked, as if dazed by something, and his eyes fell out of focus.

    "Jim, please sit down. I think you need serious help," the doctor said, not moving from her position in the corner.

    Jim looked at her again, but then lost focus. He coughed once, and took a step back. His leg gave out from under him but he was able to grab the table for support. "What-? Sumthung wong..." He reached up to hold his head with the other hand, and then suddenly lost his balance and fell backwards. Jim hit the ground hard, and Dr. Hodges rushed forward and knelt down beside him.

    "Jim?! Can you hear me?" she spoke frantically. The man groaned. His eyes were wide open as his muscles tensed up randomly. His body spasmed, and Wendy reacted quickly. She rolled him onto his side, then reached into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. She pulled a credit card from the leather and pushed it into his mouth so that he couldn't bite his tongue off. The doctor stood and moved quickly to the door, throwing it open before calling down the hallway. "I need some assistance in room 13! My patient is seizing!"

    Dr.Hodges turned back to Jim. Running footsteps could be heard from down the hall as a nurse quickly made her way to the room. He was still seizing on the ground as they both knelt back down beside him. Then he suddenly stopped moving. "Jim?!" Wendy spoke. His eyes were glazed over, looking straight ahead. She quickly put her hand up to his neck, to check his pulse with her fingers. Then Jim's eyes flicked upwards towards Wendy. The split second of relief that Jim was alive vanished when he reached up to Wendy's head and pulled her down. She felt pain erupt as his teeth sank into her neck; she felt and heard her tendons pop as his jaw tore at her muscles. Wendy opened her mouth and cried out in pain, and her screams were joined by the nurse who was in the room beside them. Suddenly Jim let go, and Wendy fell backwards against the wall. Her hand flew up to hold her neck, which was covered in the warm red blood that pumped out of her jugular. Through dazed eyes, she saw that Jim had turned his attention to the nurse. He pushed himself to his feet and tackled the woman who had turned to flee the room. His teeth sank into her bicep as the two bodies toppled to the floor.

    Wendy's vision waned. Darkness crept in from her peripherals and she began to feel numb and cold. She put pressure on her wound, but it did nothing to stop the blood that was pumping out of her neck. Within thirty seconds, Wendy's grip loosened and her eyes glazed over. Her body slumped down against the wall, and her bloody hand fell from her neck down onto the floor beside her. Wendy was the first of many to die as a result of the Yellow Plague, and Jim was the first to be turned by the infection. Jim would kill two people total that day before getting his head smashed in by a fire extinguisher, and he would infect seven others with a bite, including the nurse that came to aid Wendy. After a few days, those seven infected by Jim would kill 10 and spread the plague to 33, and those victims would do the same to others. Patient zeros like Jim would pop up globally, doomed by the medication that was created to help them. Carnage would spring up in homes, in offices, in schools, and in hospitals all over the world. Some would die, but many more would be bitten and become vessels for the plague to spread. Within weeks, millions would be dead and billions would be infected. Martial law would be first declared in China, and countries around the world would follow suit as their governments collapsed. A global recall would be issued for all of Ghentu's medication, but it would be far too late. Casualties would rise as those unprepared met their fate, and the apocalypse would begin for those that managed to survive...
  2. Incognus

    Incognus Master Schemer Member

    Local Time:
    10:18 AM
    July 23rd | Noon | Hwy 168

    "What do you mean the airport shut down?!"

    "The fuck you think I mean Casey?"

    "How? Why?"

    "I'll read you the email... All flights scheduled to depart or arrive at the Fresno Yosemite International Airport have been indefinitely suspended following a recent security incident. We understand that this will affect the travels and schedules of passengers, and we apologize for the inconvenience while we work to resolve the issue. Updates will be sent when more information can be shared. Thank you for your patience," Hailey read out loud, "That's all it says."

    Casey looked over at her friend in disbelief. "You have got to be kidding me. We've been sitting in traffic for over an hour just for this to happen?" She turned her head back towards the bumper to bumper traffic in front of her, and let her head fall back against the headrest. She looked in the review mirror at the exit ramp 10 cars behind her. "And we just passed an exit ramp we could have taken. Freaking perfect."

    "Yeah. I know. This totally blows... I mean what the hell could have happened to cause the entire airport to shutdown?"

    Casey felt her skin crawl at Hailey's question. "You don't think... it could be that disease do you?"

    Hailey rolled her eyes, "Girl, you have got to stop with that nonsense. You've been on about that for the past three days."

    "You weren't on the beach with me. You didn't see what those crazy people did," Casey responded.

    "Yeah, and nothing has happened since then!"

    "It would make sense though wouldn't it? It's contagious. They wouldn't want it spreading in an airport."

    "I'm telling you Casey you are stressing yourself out over nothing. The news loves to over hype this shit," Hailey said, pulling a makeup kit from her purse. She used the overhead mirror to make a few touch ups. "Let's just go back to the hotel and chill. You and I are going out tonight and making the most of our extra long stay in Cali."

    As Hailey spoke, Casey noticed movement up ahead. Someone was running. No, there were multiple people running. The passengers in the cars ahead of her must have noticed too, because a man three cars up opened the driverside door and stepped out to look over the door for a better view. A figure down the road ran towards him. The person's movement was erratic, as if they were uncoordinated. The figure stumbled and then fell to the ground, but wasted no time in pushing themself back up and continuing their charge. As the runner grew closer Casey could tell it was a woman with a bloody arm. The man quickly got back into his car and shut the door to protect himself. In turn, the erratic woman threw herself against the car door.

    "Holy shit," Casey said, drawing Hailey's attention to the scene before them. The woman began swinging at the car in a random fashion, using all her strength to batter the vehicle. After a number of blows, she hit a weak point in the window, and it shattered. Her upper body disappeared through the glass as she assaulted the driver. Behind the woman, a good samarian jumped out from a van and ran up to grab ahold of the woman and pull her back. She turned on him after emerging from the window, and took him down onto the pavement. The man in the car crawled out through the passenger side, holding his leg as he got up to limp away.

    "The fuck?!" Hailey spoke up, "Oh my god..." She had a right to be afraid, because further down the highway were more of them, randomly mobbing people and breaking into cars left and right.

    Casey acted quickly. She pressed on the gas to move the car forwards, colliding into the back of the vehicle in front of her, then she spun the wheel and kicked it into reverse, pulling out onto the shoulder of the highway. Casey looked behind her as she reversed towards the exit ramp. The Lexus she was driving scraped against the concrete wall, and she traded paint with a couple of cars along the way. As she drove, her driver side mirror broke off against a truck she rubbed up against. Hailey was freaking out, but Casey ignored her as she hit the brakes and then took off along the shoulder of the exit ramp. The car bumped over the curb as Casey created her own lane, running the red light and turning right into the cross traffic. She caused a van to swerve behind her, and the driver laid on the horn.

    "ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?!" Hailey screeched, holding onto the dashboard for dear life.

    "Did you not see what I saw?!"

    "Yeah I fucking did! But jesus Casey you could have killed us!"

    "What did you want me to do?!"

    "I don't know! I don't fucking know!" Hailey exclaimed. Casey turned down a side road into the suburbs and sped through the neighborhood. "Where are we going?!"

    "You think I know? We're getting away!" Casey responded. She made another turn, moving deeper into the suburbs.

    "Pull over!"


    "We're far away just stop the fucking car!" Hailey yelled. The vehicle screeched to a halt. The two woman sat in silence for several moments, gathering themselves and calming down. Casey ran a hand through her hair, and Haily mimicked her, doing the same. "Let's just go back to the hotel," Hailey broke the silence.

    "The hotel? Downtown? I'm not going back to the hotel."

    "Why not?"

    "That just seems like a horrible idea. If something like what happened on the highway happens again, were going to be stuck there with the city congestion."

    "Well then where exactly are we supposed to go?"

    "I don't know Hailey! I have no idea. Okay? But I'm still freaking out about what I just saw so I would appreciate it if you just gave me a minute."

    Silence befell the car again. Casey propped her head in her hand and took a breather. After another minute, she heard the car door open. She turned to find Hailey stepping out of the car. "What are you doing?"

    "If we're just going to sit here, I'm going to check the damage you did to our car."

    "That's what you're worried about right now?"

    "Casey this is an expensive rental. It is a valid concern," Hailey snapped back, slamming the door shut.

    "Ugghh!" Casey groaned loudly, squeezing the wheel in frustration. Hailey walked around to the front of the car. It was easy to tell by her friend's expression and the way she planted her hands on her hips that the damage was bad. The blonde walked around the car, looking at the scratches in the black paint job, and around to the rear of the car, the only part that was left intact. After another couple moments, Hailey returned to the passenger door and opened it.

    "We are going to get hella fined," she said with a raised eyebrow as the woman sat back down. She reached out and grabbed the door handle to pull it shut, but instead it was ripped out of her grasp mid way. A body slammed up against the car door, forcing it open. Both woman jumped and the man moaned loudly. His eyes were bloodshot and his mouth and neck were coated red from a previous victim. Hailey screamed and retreated towards Casey as the man lunged at her. His arms flailed and battered the blonde woman, and he dove on top of her to sink his teeth into her flesh. Casey fumbled with the handle, but eventually threw the door open and tumbled out. Hailey tried to follow, but the deranged man grabbed a hold of her leg and arm to pull her back into his deadly embrace. Casey screamed. She didn't know what to do. She watched in horror as the stranger began eating her friend alive. The sound of Hailey's cries for help and the horrible carnage Casey was witnessing froze her in place. Hailey screamed Casey's name, and reached out with a bloody hand towards her friend. Her blue eyes were wide with shock. Casey scrambled to her feet and grabbed hold of her friend's wrist with both hands. She pulled hard, but the sick man held her in place. Hailey's eyes started to glaze over, and then suddenly the man turned his attention to Casey. He crawled over Hailey's body towards the brunette, and Casey let go and fell backwards. She pushed herself to her feet and turned to run, glad she'd decided to wear flats today. With a look over her shoulder, she saw the man crawl out from the driver side and get to his feet. He charged at Casey, and in turn she screamed for help.

    "Come here!" a male voice rang out. Casey's head whipped around to find an old, grey haired man standing on his porch. In his hands was a shotgun, and he was beckoning for her to come towards him. The model didn't question it. She turned and ran towards her salvation with the beast of a human on her heels. She passed his mailbox, which read "Dewey", and sprinted up the sidewalk towards her savior. The older gentleman moved down the steps and jogged forwards to meet Casey. "Get behind me!" he called in a slightly raspy voice. As soon as Casey passed his shoulder, Dewey raised the shotgun at her pursuer. "Stop!" he yelled, but the bloodied man didn't react. Three steps later, he was blown backwards by the impact of the shotgun shell. The gun kicked into Dewey's shoulder, and the pursuer's stomach was ripped open as he fell backwards onto the ground. But it wasn't over yet. With wide eyes, Casey watched as the man rose to his feet, seemingly unfazed, and started running at them again. Cha-chink. BANG! Dewey pumped the shotgun to eject the cartridge and load another shell. The firearm kicked back into his shoulder again as another blast hit the man in the shoulder. He stumbled, but didn't fall. Cha-chink. BANG! The third shot hit dead into the man's skull and blew his brains across the lawn. The body fell, and Dewey lowered the smoking weapon.

    Casey stared at the gruesome scene in front of her appalled and shocked, then she turned and threw up into the grass. She stayed there coughing and gagging on hands and knees for solid minute before nothing else came out. Her vision was blurred from the tears in her eyes, and she spit into the grass to try and clear the disgusting, sour taste in her mouth. A hand was placed on her shoulder, causing the woman to jump. "We should go inside," the old man spoke more softly.

    "My friend. Hailey is in the car," Casey told him.

    "I'll handle that. You get in the house," he responded, helping Casey to her feet. She nodded, wiping her eyes and her mouth as Dewey ushered her through his front door. She didn't turn around to look at the man, or to the car where her friend was. She didn't think she would be able to handle it.

    One Week Later
    July 30th | Morning | Dewey's house

    A hot mug of coffee was set in front of Casey. She took it in both hands, giving the old man a soft smile. "Thanks, Charles," she said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. The brunette blew lightly, then began mixing in creamer that was on the table. Meanwhile, the man returned to the coffee machine, placing a new mug underneath and pressing the button on top. Hot dark liquid began filling the cup, but the stream only lasted a couple seconds before the red light went out. A click was heard as the fridge kicked off, and Charles reached over to toggle the light switch beside him. The power had gone out.

    "I suppose too many people had the idea to try and make coffee this morning," the old man chuckled. He grabbed his nearly empty mug and turned to the kitchen table, pulling out one of the wooden chairs and taking a seat.

    Casey smiled softly, "You can have some of mine."

    "No no, it's quite alright" he waved his hand in an attempt to decline.

    "No seriously," Casey insisted, "If I drink this much I'm going to get the shakes anyway." She stood up from her seat and reached over, pouring some of the contents of her mug into the other to make it even. Charles accepted the gesture, and nodded a thank you in response. "...So how long do you think it will last this time?" Casey asked after taking a sip.

    "The man shrugged. They've been lasting a lot longer these past few days. Who knows if it even will come back." He wasn't wrong. The power outages started just under a week ago, and now it almost seemed constant. Electricity and running water were becoming scarce, and the prospect of completely losing these amenities worried Casey. She tried not to think about it though, holding out hope that this whole crisis would be resolved soon.

    The two house mates revitalized themselves on caffeine in silence, and gazed through the open blinds at the empty street that was basked in morning light. California sunrises were nothing compared to its sunsets, but it was still a calm and pretty sight. It was almost eerie how deserted the roads had become as of late. No one really left their houses anymore, not unless they had to, and many of them were abandoned by now, the fate of their owners left unknown.

    Casey's eyes drifted over to that spot at the side of the road, where the black Lexus used to be parked. The car was gone now. Charles had retrieved her luggage from the trunk for her, before it was taken away by the soldiers to form a barricade. The military had come through and established a small base of operations nearby in the suburbs three days ago. After securing a perimeter, they'd done a bit of clean up and blocked off the roads with vehicles so cars couldn't come through. Hailey's body was taken away during this process. It was better than seeing the car each day and knowing... knowing that she was lying in there. Charles was too weak to try and bury her, and Casey couldn't stomach it. She could still see her friend's face, the blonde hair stained red... the empty, lifeless blue eyes...

    "Casey?" A voice pulled the woman from her thoughts. She turned to see Charles looking at her, as if he'd asked her a question. "Are you alright?" he repeated.

    "Yeah. I'm fine," she gave an unconvincing smile and then stared off for another moment before standing up. Casey made her way to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of coffee liqueur, adding some to her drink. She needed it.

    "Alright then," Charles spoke up, standing from the table "I'm not staying cooped up in here all day. I'm going to enjoy the nice morning weather while it lasts. It's going to get hot later."

    "How do you know that?" She asked him, closing the cupboard and turning around. "There hasn't been a weather report in almost a week."

    "I can feel it in my bones," he chuckled, and Casey gave him a lighthearted eye roll. Charles walked towards the front door with his coffee, opened it and bent over to grab his shotgun before walking out. "Feel free to join me," he called back before letting the door close behind him.

    Casey wasn't going to join him. She leaned back with her butt against the counter and took a drink of her beverage. It was strong, and that was good.
  3. Incognus

    Incognus Master Schemer Member

    Local Time:
    10:18 AM
    July 30th | Morning | Fresno Suburbs

    Harold gave his wife a kiss on the lips and a quick hug. "I'll be back tonight. If anything happens Lieutenant Jameson is down the road, and you know where the gun is."

    "Yeah, of course," the blonde woman replied, "But we will be fine. You're the one that needs to be careful."

    "Like I said, we'll all be back tonight," he told her. His hand fell to her lower back, and Harold turned to his son. "Kyle, you watch over the girls alright buddy?"

    "Sure dad," he nodded back. Harold gave him a light slap on the shoulder, and then turned around picked up a military backpack, throwing it over his shoulders. The tan-green camouflage matched his uniform, and the rifle he slung over his shoulder in front of him completed the military look. An engine could be heard pulling up outside, and Harold gave a wave to his family and then walked through the front door. A week and a half ago, Harold never would have thought he'd be dressed for war again, let alone in his home city. He was a legally disabled veteran, but that status didn't stop him from offering his service to the soldiers who set up a base of operations near his house. The soldiers were stretched thin as it was. They needed all the help they could get.

    "Morison! You ready to rock?" A young soldier called to him, opening the back door to the armored Humvee.

    "Ready as ever Floyd," he responded, hopping into the back seat.

    "How's it going old man?" A female voice greeted him as Floyd shut the door.

    "Darlene," Harold greeted back, bumping her outstretched fist with his own. Floyd jumped into the passenger seat, and Darlene leaned forward towards the driver.

    "Let's roll Boomer," she said.

    "Two seconds," the husky man replied. A slapping sound could be heard as he flicked his arm, packing the can of dip in his hand. The lid was removed and Boomer dropped a fat wad of chew behind his lip before offering it up to Floyd, who did the same. "You two want some?" He asked, looking backwards.

    "Hell no," Darlene wrinkled her nose, and Harold simply shook his head. As surreal as it was to be geared up after so long, in an armored vehicle right outside his house, Harold felt in his element. Even after nearly 16 years of civilian life, he slipped back into the military routine with ease.

    The vehicle kicked into gear and the four soldiers began driving down the subdivision. "Any updates?" Harold asked as they drove.

    "Nah," Boomer replied, "Still can't get through to command. So this will just be a clear and sweep." Harold nodded, and looked out of his window. As they made a turn, he saw a house with a small but vivid garden. An older man with a grey head of hair was sitting out front on a bench, holding a mug in one hand and resting his other on a shotgun in his lap. He waved in greeting as the vehicle passed.

    "Frankly, I think command is just fucking with us at this point," Floyd joked, "Generals are probably kicking back at HQ, with a scotch in one hand and cigar in the other." Floyd held his hands up, miming his words, and the others chuckled.

    "Well they sure as fuck better save some for me," Darlene interjected.

    The Humvee slowed to a stop before a line of cars stacked across the road, and Boomer rolled down the driver side window. "You gonna let us out?" he said to an approaching soldier, who was manning the makeshift gate.

    "Only if you plan on coming back," the man responded. He motioned to the other soldier, who hopped into a large van and backed the vehicle up, opening the way for the Humvee to pass.

    "Thanks boss," Boomer spoke, rolling up the window as the four left the community. The van was replaced behind them, and the small squad made their way out into the dying world, armed to the teeth, with a reasonably upbeat attitude.
  4. Olivia's Scandal

    Olivia's Scandal Well-Known Member Member

    Local Time:
    11:18 AM
    |Goldleaf, CA| July 23rd|

    Kitty balanced her little stainless steel tray on one hand, twisting the knob to room 8 with her free hand and gently pushed through the door, a cheery smile on her face.
    "Alright buddy, looks like you're due for 3 today!" She said, by way of greeting, to the eight year old perched on the patient bed, his hand tightly clasped around his mother's. He wore a tight expression of dread as he eyed the tray Kitty set on the counter near the bed and his mother emphathetically pecked the top of his head with her lips, exchanging an amused glance with the raven, curly haired nurse.

    "Oh, it won't be so bad Jamie! Just one last round of boosters and you won't have to see my face again until next year!" Kitty promised, winking a blue eye at the boy as she unwrapped an alcohol swab to clean a spot on his upper arm.
    "It isn't you I mind, Ms. Kitty." Jamie sighed, wrinkling his nose as the scent of the swab invaded his nostrils.
    "Well, I appreciate that. All that heavy sighing was making me wonder." She teased back, plucking the first needle capped syringe from the tray.
    "O-Kay, on the count of three, then?"


    Not so very long after, the nurse, her patient, and his mother all exited the room. Jamie's face was flushed pink, but he hadn't cried and he now sported three shiny superhero themed bandages and had traded his mother's hand for a lollipop.
    Kitty waved them off and then popped her head into the nurse's station.

    "I'm taking my lunch now!" She announced to the two other RN's, chatting behind their desk. Holly, the lead nurse, waved a hand at her in acknowledgment, never even pausing to take a breath or look her way.
    Kitty rolled her eyes and turned towards the break room, the phone in her pocket vibrating right on cue.
    Smiling, she withdrew the phone and answered just as the break room door clicked behind her and she reached for the refrigerator door to retrieve her lunch.

    "Hey, babe!" She greeted into the receiver, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder and carrying the plastic grocery bag containing her sandwich and yogurt to the table. It wasnt the most environmentally friendly way to carry her lunch, but she reasoned that if she reused the same bag there wasn't much harm to be done.

    "Hey, darlin'. How's your day?" Her fiancé replied on the other end of the phone. That warm and familiar southern drawl of his still made her melt like butter.
    Over in Fresno, not so very far from Goldleaf where Kitty worked and the suburbs the couple resided in, Tuck was crawling along through traffic on the 168 towards Clovis. One hand lightly gripped the wheel of his tan and dusty Ford 150 and the other held his own cell. It might have been slightly hypocritical for a cop to use his phone while driving, but he was off duty and his night shift had taken him away from home the evening before. He missed Kate.

    "I am just sitting down to lunch. How was the graveyard shift? Are you on your way home, yet?" Kitty asked, unwrapping her turkey sandwich and taking a bite.
    "It was... Nuts. I tell ya, things get crazier every day." Tuck replied grimly, reluctant to dwell on the events that had transpired the night prior.
    "Are you okay?" Kitty pressed, her tone suddenly thick with concern. Tuck smiled fondly, he could almost picture her sitting at that little round, wooden table, dressed in blue scrubs, her curly hair in a ponytail and a dollop of mayo on the corner of her lips.

    "I'm fine, sweetheart. We had to respond to a disturbance downtown. Some lunatic attacked and killed a civilian on the street. Hurt a few witnesses, too. We had to take statements at the community ER." Tuck said, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel as traffic faltered again.
    "Jesus, did ya get the crazy?" Kate asked, fishing a plastic spoon out of a basket sitting on the table for her yogurt.
    "Kind of. He's dead." Tuck replied, tucking strands of sandy blonde hair behind his ear and leaving out the more disturbing bits of information.

    He didn't want Kate to have the same images swirling around in her head that he had in his. She didnt need to know that the psycho had ripped the victim's throat out with his teeth and then proceeded to bite the surviving witnesses as they desperately tried to protect themselves, and each other. She didn't need to know about the mess of blood and skin he'd left on the sidewalk, or the fact that he was so out of his mind they'd had to fire 5 goddamn bullets into his body to put him down.

    "So are you headed home now? You should hit the bed and relax. When I get home I'll give you some gold star treatment." Kitty promised coyly, her eyes flicking to the TV mounted on the wall across from the table. Some commercial for toilet paper was coming to an end, and the screen flickered and gave way to the news.
    "Well, I can't pass up an offer like that." Tucker replied with a grin, letting out a relieved sigh as he finally reached his exit and he turned his truck off the highway.

    "Actually I just exited off into Clovis. Thought I'd swing by Regional and say hi to Bob." He informed her, knowing the thought of Kate's father in his hospital room would make her chest pang, as it always did.
    Robert was on the losing side of an increasingly uphill battle with cancer. It had started in his throat shortly after he retired, making simple actions such as eating or drinking a painful effort. After multiple, aggressive rounds of chemo and radiation, the cancer spread to his lungs and he was admitted into the Clovis Regional Cancer Treatment and Rehabilitation center. It was, at this point, mostly to make what little time he had left as comfortable as possible.

    "Tell him I said hi. And that I love him." Kitty replied finally, some breaking news story on the television distracting her.
    "Wait... Tuck something's happening." she breathed, her eyes widening in alarm.
    "What do you mean?" he asked, her tone instantly causing concern.
    "I'm watching the news... they're saying all airports and hospitals in Fresno's surrounding areas are being quarantined!" Kitty informed him, shoving herself from the table and shaking her head in disbelief.

    "I'm on my way to meet you." she said, grabbing her purse from a row of hooks by the door and abandoning her lunch completely.
    "Kate, just wait a minute-" Tuck began firmly, cradling the phone in between his ear and shoulder so that his free hand could turn the dial on his radio.
    "Holly, I gotta go, something's going on at my Dad's hospital." Kate called towards the front desk. Holly nodded with a furrowed brow, her ear pressed to the receiver of the office phone.
    "We're all going home early, I guess. They're releasing kids early from school." the head nurse remarked, her expression puzzled and anxious.

    "Kate!" Tucker barked, half listening to what was happening on her end and half to the radio, where the national emergency system was droning out a very vague alarm.
    "This is a message from the National Emergency Systems.... All civilians are advised to return to their homes and stay indoors until further notice.... This is a message from the National Emergency Systems.... All civilians are advised....."
    "KATE-!" Tuck tried again as Kitty shoved through the clinic doors and into the sunlight, beelining for her little Honda Civic.
    "What?!" she snapped back, practically falling into her car.

    "Kate, go home. I'm about ten minutes away from Regional, I will find out what's going on and I will call you." Tuck instructed, his knuckles white against his steering wheel.
    "But," Kitty began to protest.
    "No, don't argue me on this. Please. Just go home, and lock the doors. There's nothing you can do here that I can't, okay?" he pleaded, the tension in his shoulders building with every silent second that ticked by.

    "Okay." Kitty agreed reluctantly.
    "But call me the second you get there." she demanded, Tucker's relieved sigh echoing through the phone.
    "And not a moment later." he promised, coming to a stop at a red light.
    "I love you." Tuck told her, and Kitty smiled in spite of herself.
    "I love you, too." she returned before they both hung up and she started her car.
    Moments later she was greeted with the same ominous automated recording Tucker had heard and her chest grew heavy with anxiety. What the hell was happening?

    Not wasting another moment, she stepped on the gas and peeled out of the parking lot, settling in for the twenty minute ride home. The house was actually her father's. When it became clear he wouldn't be coming home, Robert asked his daughter and protege to move in. He knew they'd been aching to leave their one bedroom apartment, but real estate didn't come cheap in California and he was leaving everything to her anyway,

    Traffic was heavy on the main roads, since most everyone had either seen the news or heard their radio. They were all trying to get home and no one knew exactly why,
    Every now and then, Kate passed army green tanks and jeeps slipping in and out through the streets, which must have meant the reserves near Edison were being called into action, and it could be assumed the air national guard had been deployed as well, since jets occasionally roared overhead. Was America under attack?

    It wasn't until Kitty's slow crawl along the road came to a stop at a light that she caught her first glimpse of the apocalypse that had quietly gotten its claws into humanity all over the world.
    It started with a crescendo of horns from vehicles too far ahead for her to spot. She thought there must be an accident ahead, but that idea was discarded as four people came into view, running down the street in between cars. Kitty nearly got out of her own car, thinking perhaps medical assistance was needed, until one of the people suddenly turned and slammed themselves into an SUV, mad squalls ripping from their throat as they beat against the glass with their fists.

    Before Kitty could comprehend what she was witnessing, the other three people began following suit, beating against the vehicle with rabidly gnashing teeth. She watched, frozen and torn between wanting to help and not knowing how. The driver of a neighboring car threw open their door and attempted to pull one of the violent lunatics from the SUV, and that's when shit got really fucked up.

    The maniac turned and without even a millisecond of hesitation, she leaned forward and latched onto the good samaritan's throat, ripping out his jugular with her teeth and chewing on his flesh as he fell and barely muffled screams rose from every vehicle in the area. Blood dribbled down her chin but the psycho didn't even seem to register this. Her head swiveled from one side to another, ignoring the squeals from her companions as they became increasingly frustrated with the metal barrier between them and their pray.

    Kitty had seen quite enough and she threw her car into reverse, nearly crashing into the person behind her but giving her enough room to lurch towards the right and over a curb into a grocery store parking lot. Her action must have stirred the others, because in moments the air smelled of burned rubber as every vehicle on the road moved to go anywhere at all off the main road and away from the horror show unfolding in the street.
    The sound of shattered glass signified the monsters had gotten through the SUV window and Kitty didn't stick around for the after math.

    She floored her gas pedal, ripping through the parking lot, aiming for the side street on the other end to escape to as her initial shock began to wear off and panic took its place.
    "Okay, stay calm... you just saw a crazy woman chew on another person like a dog with a bone, but you have to stay calm..." she whispered to herself, her breathing beginning to hitch and fray.
    "Just get home... get home... get home..." she continued, never slowing as she turned onto the empty side street.

    Or, she thought it was empty.
    There was a flash of army green, the sound of twisting metal and popping glass.
    And Kitty was suddenly upside down.
    Her chest heaved and blood dripped from her nose into her eyes. Black boots stomped around her shattered windows.
    "Cover me!" a voice barked.
    "Leave it, let's go!" came a reply.

    A stubbled face appeared at the driver's window, and the soldier crouched to inspect Kitty.
    "Hey, I'm gonna get you out, okay?" he said, attempting to sound soothing. Shots rang out, just beyond her car, and Kitty yelped, her body giving in to violent trembling.
    "It's going to be alright..." The soldier promised.

    He was wrong. He saved her life, but after that, nothing was alright.

    |Fresno Suburbs| July 30th|

    It was a week later and now people understood what they couldn't seven days ago.
    The monsters that were feasting on them all weren't crazy or on drugs. Well, not anymore anyway. Most of them had been on a drug, the very one that wound up making them sick and killing them off, one by one. Only, these people didn't stay dead.
    A defiance to nature itself, but they came back none the less as mindless, emotionless hunters with only a desire to feed on the living. They were ruthless, strong, fast, and hard to kill if your aim was shit.

    Kitty was slowly recovering. She'd been lucky, walking away from that crash with nothing more than a bruised face and some strained ribs.
    The soldier that stopped and saved her kept a close eye on her until the military got a barricade set up around the 'burbs in Fresno, creating a safe place for anyone who could prove they were healthy enough to get in. And man, if you had so much as a cold, you weren't getting in.

    Still, with her phone destroyed along with her car, Kitty had offered her services to the medical tents set up near the only way in and out of their shelter. She had to stay busy or succumb to insanity herself. She didn't know where Tucker was, or if her father was still alive.
    As cable and satellite TV began to phase in and out, they'd learned most hospitals had fallen to the plagued.
    After all, where else would sick people go? By the time their patients had turned, there wasn't even any use in their attempted quarantine. The CDC couldn't have contained this disaster even if they'd seen it coming.

    Kitty sat at a wooden picnic table in the morning sun, picking at the oatmeal in her bowl. It hadn't occurred to her that food might become harder to come by, but she simply wasn't that hungry.
    "Hey, Kitty." a man in a white lab coat greeted amicably, sitting across from her with his own bowl of grain mush.
    "Hey, Dr. Thomas." she replied quietly, folding her hands on the table before her. The surface wasn't sanded, and little pieces of splintered wood pricked at her palms. She never even looked up.

    "How are you feeling? Still sore?" the man across from her asked cheerfully. He wasn't stupid. All doctors were masters at staying calm and putting others at ease.
    "A little." Kitty admitted, one hand raising towards her bruised nose. Dr. Thomas watched her for a moment before clearing his throat.
    "You know, I hear a convoy is coming in today with refugees from Clovis." he said gently, and Kitty's head snapped up, a painful kind of hope twisting in her gut. Dr. Thomas' brown eyes met her blue ones and he offered her a smile, a hand running through his red hair.

    "You could come along with the examination team. We'll have to see everyone before they're given access, of course. You could come help and see every refugee personally." he offered.
    "Oh, thank you Dr. Thomas, I'd love to!" Kitty blurted earnestly, moving to rise from her seat. The doctor held up a hand.
    "We won't be leaving to meet them for another few hours. So, do me a favor and get some food in your stomach and drink some water. I'll need you at your best if you're coming along." he instructed, and Kitty immediately picked up her spoon and dug into her oatmeal.
    Maybe today was the day. Maybe Tuck would be with this group. Maybe today something good would happen...
    • Like Like x 1
  5. DisplacedAnger

    DisplacedAnger Wild Member Member

    Local Time:
    8:18 AM
    July 23rd | 13:00 | Fresno Suburbs (North Blackstone Ave.)
    "Look, ever since that shit on the news broke, making any sort of money at ALL at the club has been, well.. impossible? Yeah yeah I know.. Are you sure attempting any sort of gig tonight is even wise?"

    "Malakai we can't believe all that bullshit we hear on the news, right? You know better than anyone else that it's probably some made up bullshit from the government to fear monger people..Get yourself a Lyft and get to work tonight, eh?"

    The cell phone beeped as Malakai ended the conversation. Walking home from a nearby grocery store strip-mall, a bag of snacks and a non-essentials slung into the bend of his right elbow, the slender man seemed less than keen on going anywhere NEAR downtown Frenso that evening..

    He yawned then pushed the bridge of his aviator sunglasses back up his nose and shoved the LG smartphone into the rear pocket of his somewhat form-fitted black pants. The weather was warm, lacking a breeze it seemed, and sunny which caused the top of his bald head to feel harassed by the sunlight.

    The phone call had fazed him a bit, all of the shit going on in the media had. His social media accounts were alight with strange stories of people going nuts with this 'odd set of behaviors' and some even showing signs of cannibalism? The very idea of that made him shudder and pick up the pace a bit more.

    Less than five minutes from home and already he regretted walking instead of taking his own car or a Lyft... At least he'd be closer to actual protection then..

    A police car blasted by down the streets, sirens blazing..

    "The hell?"

    Chewing on his lip piercings for a moment he leaned outward a bit to see what was happening, scanning the roof lines of a few parked cars just as that same cruiser collided with a line of parked cars on the opposite site of the four lane road..

    A few pedestrians screamed in shock, Malakai simply stared, dumbfounded, before taking in the scene slowly unfolding in front of him - less than a quarter mile away..

    An officer, fully uniformed, crawled from the wreckage... He seemed wounded yet...without warning fully capable of lunging at a close woman and her counterpart without abandon... The officer seemed deranged, tackling the woman first, seemingly tearing at her screaming figure while bystanders screamed for help..

    Shit had gone from 0 to 100 in a millisecond..

    "What the fuck, hang on! I'm coming!"

    What was he thinking anyway...

    The soldier in him reacted on complete instinct, dropping the bag of goods - bottle of liquor shattering upon the asphalt - and sprinting towards the back-asswards assault. Blood began to run across the sidewalk as the officer tore flesh off the woman's arms and bit into anything he could grab, which was horrifying!

    "Dude! What is WRONG with you!? Get off her!" Malakai snarled, moving to kick the then-thought psychotic police office off the dying woman.. only to find he had suddenly drawn those same cross-hairs upon himself.. Deadened red eyes looked at him, and a bloody maw dropped open in a hideous yawning moan..

    Malakai had seen enough horror mogoes... and this was certainly shaping up to be one.."Fucking come at me, and I'll put a bullet in you!" As he made the warning his hand had already moved to draw his sidearm, a MARSOC .45...

    ..when the crazy man rushed him!

    With a shocked yelp he jumped back and pulled his weapon, aiming firmly with little shake...before squeezing the trigger. The pistol barked forth round after round, the aim intentionally low in effort to slow the assault... However despite the bullets hitting the officer, he kept barreling forth with full strength..

    "Dude, what the hell!" Malakai adjusted his aim.. and emptied three more rounds into the attacking officer's head and chest..

    It seemed to at least halt the man?

    The officer fell into a heap on the ground with most of his head blown inward, collapsed from rotted interior flesh decay with some strange looking material leaking forth?

    "What the fuck is that?"

    "Th-That was a cop! He attacked her!"

    "She's dead! She's fucking dead!!"

    Not knowing how else to respond to the scene other than stare for a moment, Malakai Cross simply became enveloped in a sort of shell-shock.. .a PTSD-induced shell shock. The smell of gun powder from his freshly discharged weapon, the twitching body at his feet, the screaming people around him, the still wailing police car sirens... Everything became muddied as if he were slowly sinking underwater... This all lasted mere moments when it all snapped back to him, all the unreal reality..

    Another one was running right for the group of people he thought he'd saved and more screaming ensued. This time there was no hesitation as he began to fire his weapon at the charging man with intent to kill from the wreckage of the police car - apparently someone who had been in custody as his hands were still in cuffs - the .45cal bullets slamming into near-dead flesh enough to trip him up so that his victims could escape. "Fucking RUN! No idea what is wrong with these people but get out of here!" he roared at the survivors while his target curbed its path towards the gun shots..and charged at the diminutive man with tattoos and piercings.. "God damn it!"

    Empty magazine...

    So he'd have to run, and that he did! Turning on his heels he broke into a sprint down the road towards home with a (unbeknown to him at the time) Yellow Plague Infected man hot on his tail.. Had it not been for his physical experience, his past love of free running and his stamina, he'd have been just another number.. However when he reached the brick walls of the closest housing development he began to hurl himself upward with near-perfection, slinging over the backyard walls and traipsing the slender brick until reaching the roof lines...His pursuer would be left smashing into the brick-work unable to follow, yet Malakai would not stop until he was completely out of breath or adrenaline... whichever came first.

    July 30th | Morning 09:25 | Fresno Suburbs - Glenn Ave. Apartments
    A solid week had gone by since the attack on North Blackstone Ave brought the man into draw and empty his weapon into men seemingly possessed by something inexpiable... In that same week it had become more and more difficult to keep running water in his apartment building much less electricity and news channels throughout displayed constant droning emergency alerts and evacuation notices.

    Videos had started surging forth upon social media platforms of similar assaults from these... things.. once humans now feral and such beings only growing in number exponentially. Despite being in the suburbs of Fresno, Malakai was relatively trapped in his apartment complex.

    He'd been stuck for three days as tenants in other units began acting strangely. Observing them wallowing in a complete blank-stared state over night to darting after a health person the next morning.. Two days prior to becoming trapped, he'd raided three local pharmacies for his medications - normally procured from the V.A - and managed to actually STEAL a large quantity of Phenytoin and Topiramate to control his seizures while the pharmacy was being raided by attacking .. plagued.

    Getting his pain medications and anti-anxiety drugs had proven more difficult. Depakote was not always in ready large supply, and he'd thankfully had a three-month order of it on hand.. He had no luck finding it thus far at close pharmacies.. Getting pain-management pills were difficult as well as thieves and junkies were raiding pharmacies for these as well... Hydrocodone and Methadone had been prescribed to him for pain management for his shoulder and headache phenomena.. however he'd have to find a clinic for these...

    For now he sat on his couch watching the news, cleaning his M4 A1 rifle and managing his gear.. attempting to calm his nerves until something in his head clicked him into gear... He'd not gone to work, not answered his phone.. His mind had focused on one thing - survival.

    • Like Like x 1
  6. Incognus

    Incognus Master Schemer Member

    Local Time:
    10:18 AM
    July 30th | Noon | Fresno Suburbs - North Central

    Boomer and Floyd stood guard at the front lawn near the sidewalk while Harold peered in through the window of a small suburban home. He was trying to see through the cracks in the blinds and get a glimpse inside, but it wasn't much use. The house interior was dark and the overhead sun was causing reflections on the window. "Can't see in," Harold said, stepping to the side of the window. He turned to Darlene who was standing beside the front door. "Give it a knock."

    Darlene moved away from the wall and in front of the door. She pounded with her fist three times before calling through the door. "Open up! National Guard!"

    A bump was heard inside the house, then, the soldiers heard a glass shatter on tile. Fast footsteps approached and suddenly a shape slammed into the frosted glass. The creature moaned through the front door and threw it's body once against the frame. Darlene didn't flinch. "Get a load of this one," she said, turning to Floyd and Boomer on the lawn and pointing at the door with her thumb. "He looks eager to meet us. Anyone want the honor of an introduction?"

    Boomer turned to look, spitting brown liquid onto the grass beside him. It was his second lip of chew. Floyd had spit his out an hour ago. "Not me, I say ladies first," Boomer responded, walking slowly towards the porch.

    "Yeah, you're probably right. I'm the only one here with the balls to do-" SMASH. The glass behind Darlene suddenly shattered and a hand reached through. She ducked and tried pulled a pistol from her holster, turning and attempting to step away while swinging her gun around at the assailant. However, the thing's arm flailed and it's fingers latched onto her uniform at the wrist, knocking her gun onto the ground and gripping her arm tightly. Darlene took a step backwards and tried to yank her arm free without success. In the split second this all happened, Boomer rushed forwards. He had seen it coming when Darlene hadn't. The large man pulled his pistol own pistol out and pushed her to the side, bringing the hand gun up to the face pressing through the small, broken glass window. He squeezed the trigger, and yellow-red brain matter exploded out from the back of the creature's skull. It's grip instantly went limp and the figure fell out of view behind the door. Darlene hit the patio as well, thrown off balance by both Boomer and the sudden release of the infected.

    Harold lowered his rifle. He would have shot if he had a clean angle, but he didn't get the chance before Boomer rushed in. He watched as Boomer grabbed her wrist Indian style and hoisted the short haired girl to her feet. Floyd, behind the man, bent down to pick up Darlene's handgun, and moved past Boomer as he backed away. Floyd made a beeline for Darlene, stopping only inches in front of her face. "What in the fuck was that?! You think this is a joke? A game?"

    "What- No!" Darlene said, caught off guard.

    "Well I'm surprised considering the shit you just pulled." Darlene opened her mouth, but Floyd cut her off. "You had better straighten the fuck up and take this seriously," he jabbed Darlene in the collarbone with his finger, and she responded by lifting her chin and glaring Floyd in the eyes. "Quit the nonsense and screw your head on Darlene! You have been out of line for the past three days and are acting like a god damn child! Do you want to be child? Or do you want to be a soldier?"

    "I'm not a child," she growled.

    "Then you better make sure as fuck that you don't act like one!" Floyd yelled, "I swear to god, you pull another careless stunt again and I will lock you in a bedroom and sic a babysitter on your ass! You will wise up, or you will sit out. That is an order and a promise. Do you understand?"

    "I understand," Darlene said through gritted teeth.

    "What was that?"

    "I understand, Sir!" she said more clearly.

    "Good." Floyd extended his arm, handing Darlene her pistol back, and she swiped it from his grip. The female soldier brushed past him, and marched towards the next house on the street. Boomer gave Floyd a silent look, then spit and followed Darlene towards. Harold and Floyd walked over together. "It's always the young ones who are stupidly naive," Floyd spoke at a more normal volume to Harold. The officer shook his head.

    "You think you're old?" Harold replied with a straight face.

    "Not next to you," Floyd chuckled, "But I look like a fucking veteran next to her."

    "She's a private straight out of training. She'll learn how this works in time," Harold assured him.

    "Yeah, well I'm worried we ain't got much of that." Floyd spoke grimly. Harold didn't argue.

    The four soldiers approached the next house over. This time Harold and Boomer took point near the street while Floyd followed Darlene up to the porch. Slumped over beside a rocking chair was a body. Dark red blood was smeared over the siding of the house and pooled on the concrete. Darlene nudged the corpse with her rifle causing it to fall over. "Check it out, this poor chap got his throat ripped out before he could turn." She squatted beside the body, "Goddamn savages," she muttered under her breath.

    "Knock it off and stand up," Floyd told her, "Final warning." Darlene gave an audible sigh and stood. Her attention was drawn away from Floyd though, when Boomer gave a whistle. He and Harold were keeping watch down either side of the street, and something had caught Boomer's eye.

    "Hey! We got a runner!" he called, readying his weapon. Down the street, and figure had turned the corner and emerged from behind a house. The individual was running full sprint at the group, in an erratic fashion. Floyd and Darlene moved quickly, running up to where Boomer and Harold were standing with guns at the ready. Boomer raised his weapon and closed one eye, peering down the sight at the runner and preparing to pull the trigger. However, as he was aiming, Boomer opened both eyes again, wide in shock. Behind this runner, another had appeared. It rounded the corner full sprint, and was followed by others. One after another infected were sprinting into view, and it seemed the entire mob was gunning for them. Six houses down, a swarm of 20 to 30 were now charging them. "Mother fuck-"

    "GET TO THE TRUCK!" Floyd yelled. He raised his M4 and fired off a few rounds into the approaching crowd as the others turned to run. The bullets seemed to whizz by all of them; if any did hit there was no noticeable effect. The individuals were too spread out and were running unpredictably, making them hard to hit from a distance. "MOVE MOVE MOVE!" The armored truck was parked at the end of the subdivision. It made more sense to walk door to door than to waste gas running a loud engine, slowly creeping down the street.

    The four soldiers bolted towards the vehicle. Boomer spat out his lip onto the roadway and Darlene took point; she slowly gained distance between her and the three men thanks to her faster footwork. Boomer on the other hand, was starting to fall behind. His large frame and muscular build were made for power and heavy lifting, not speed. The infected were drawing closer. Harold looked over his shoulder, and couldn't believe how fast some of them were. It was like they didn't feel pain or exhaustion. The older man pivoted, turning and sending a number of rounds down range to cover Boomer as he passed. Two fell, but one stumbled back to her feet. Harold turned and ran again.

    "Darlene!" Floyd called out. She turned her head to look back, and saw that the officer was pulling a key from a pouch on his pants. He chucked the object through the air to Darlene in front of him. The key flew over her fingertips, and clattered to the ground past her. It was sitting a few feet from the Humvee. They were almost there.

    As Darlene ran to scoop the key off the concrete, one of the infected appeared. This one was short, and looked to be a teenager. It had approached from the houses behind the armored vehicle, which just so happened to give it cover as it approached. Now it was on them. The thing curved around the front of the vehicle and Floyd shouted. He raised his rifle to fire, but he was too slow. A short burst of gunfire was heard, and Harold mowed it down. Bullets tore through the infected and slammed into the vehicle behind, splattering blood and pounding dents into the humvee. The bullet proof windshield cracked, but Darlene was saved. The lifeless body collapsed beside her, and she ran past it.

    "Boomer lets GO!!" Darlene yelled as she fumbled with the padlock on the driver side door. He was the furthest one away and the mob was hot on his heels. Floyd reached the vehicle, followed shortly after by Harold, and the two set point and fired. As dangerous as it was to fire with a friendly down range, it was the only choice they had. He was only a couple of yards from them, but that distance was too far for him to escape without assistance. Two more infected fell at Boomer's heels. A third was knocked on its ass but scrambled to its feet. The rifles kicked into Harold and Floyd's shoulders as automatic fire streaked through the air.

    Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Click.

    Harold hit the end of his 30 round mag.

    "GET IN!" Darlene screamed behind them. She'd unlocked the door, and flipped the ignition switch in the humvee. Boomer was feet away, and so were the infected. With the doors unlocked Floyd turned and sprinted around to the passenger side. Harold threw open the back door and climbed in, leaving it open for Boomer. The large man reached the door and grabbed the frame to hoist himself in, but something else grabbed him. Two sets of hands grasped his shoulders and yanked him backwards from the vehicle. His left arm slipped from the door handle but his right held fast to the frame. Using his strength, Boomer was able to push forward a step and reach his right arm out. Floyd latched onto it, and Harold backed up against the opposite door. His rifle was raised with a fresh magazine, but he couldn't shoot. Not without hitting Boomer. A moment later, it was too late.

    Boomer cried out as teeth sunk into his leg, then his arm and then his shoulder. The infected were all over him. Floyd held Boomer's wrist with both hand, trying to pull the man into the car, but the infected were dragging him backwards with greater strength. Harold watched as the beasts sunk their teeth into his comrade right outside the door. Yellow tinted eyes gazed absently as their fungus infested mouths dug into Boomer's skin. Red blood flowed, splattering onto the assailants who didn't seem to mind. Some of their bodies were torn up with scrapes and cuts which seemed to have been clogged by the fungus which ran through their veins. Some had fresh bullet holes, and one had a broken arm; none of these injuries were paid any attention. Their skin had a yellowish tint, but the monsters didn't look ill, or dead. They looked very much alive. They looked like savage, bloodthirsty beasts, and they tore into Boomer's body like savage, bloodthirsty beasts.

    Boomer's throat was crushed by the vice grip of an infected's jaws. His eyes were wide, and his hand was slipping from Floyd's who just simply wouldn't let go. Harold made eye contact with the dying man, and the veteran raised his rifle and fired. The bullet tore through Boomer's skull, and the man went limp.

    "DRIVE!" Harold yelled, and Floyd let go as Darlene slammed her foot onto the gas. The door was still open as they peeled away, and one of the infected attempted to jump in. It flung itself at the opening but missed, hitting the side and getting sucked under the large, back left tire. The door slammed shut as Darlene practically drifted around the corner, and the three of them were safe. Turning to look behind them, Harold saw about half of the infected chasing after them, and the other half tearing into Boomer's corpse and fighting each other over the meal.
  7. Incognus

    Incognus Master Schemer Member

    Local Time:
    10:18 AM
    July 30th | Noon | Fresno Suburbs - North Central

    Pop pop pop pop pop pop!

    The sound of automatic gunfire in the distance caused heads to turn. Heads with yellowed eyes and tainted skin. A guttural moan escaped from the throat of a man wearing a white, torn up wifebeater, and he stumbled forward into a run towards the noises. Others did the same, drawn by the rifle fire in the distance. The creatures quickly filtered out from the street and small back alleyway, leaving the surrounding area bare and empty. A breeze blew a plastic bag across the ground, but nothing else moved. Not for another five minutes, at least.

    Along the side of the alley was a dumpster, and slowly, the lid creeped upwards to open a small slit. A pair of brown eyes glanced around at the outside, making sure there was nothing around, and then the lid was suddenly thrown open. A dark skinned man scrambled out of the trash bin as quickly as he could, coughing a few times before spitting onto the ground. He whacked at his shirt, knocking off pieces of garbage that were stuck to his clothes. "Maann, does no one use a damn trash bag anymore?!" he complained to himself. "Ehuhh... YUCK." The man spit on the ground again, and then looked around to gain a better bearing. "Damn psychos, chasin' me into a pile of garbage." He returned to the dumpster, and reached in to pull out a now dirtied book bag. He made a face at the smell, but threw the strap over his shoulder anyway, and then closed the lid. He moved away from the bin quickly.

    The African man wore tennis shoes, cargos, and a short sleeve graphic Tshirt; practical clothing for escaping the monsters that littered the streets. The man looked to be in his late 20s to early 30s. He was a husky build, but not fat, and his hair was cropped closely to his skull with a razor. He poked his head out around the corner to check down the street before walking out into the open. The man hugged the wall and jogged forward down the road a few blocks, keeping a sharp eye out for movement. Within a couple minutes, he rounded another corner into the parking lot of an apartment complex. He took one step past a van, and then the man suddenly leapt into the air and screamed. When he landed, his hand slapped up against his chest, and his head swiveled around quickly to ensure he didn't draw attention. The van which he passed was slammed up against another car from a collision in the parking lot. Between the two vehicles, was a person. A person which had moved and shot a hand out at him when he passed.

    "You- holy- Fuck!" he exclaimed, trying to catch his breath. He planted his hands onto his knees. The individual was certainly turned, but it was pinned in place between the wreckage, crushed below the waist. Luckily, it was unable to come after him. "You son of a bitch," he breathed, looking around the area once again. "Ugly-ass."

    After regaining his composure, the man stepped forward towards the creature. It was a female, with a short blonde bob cut. The hand which reached out towards him was missing the thumb, and it was her only free limb. Her jaw was broken and hanging from loose skin, and the man could see the fungus that grew over her tongue and at the base of her teeth. It was a small film of dark yellow fur. He shuttered.

    The man didn't have anything to kill it with. Glancing around on the ground, he found a large rock a few feet away, and he went to grab it. The stone was only a little larger than the size of his fist. He returned to the woman, and planted his feet just out of her reach. He took a breath, wound up, and chucked the rock directly at her head. The object hit it's mark, bouncing off the creature's head and knocking it back against the car with a thud. The stone's pointy piece had cut into her eye and liquid squirted out. The man flinched and shuffled back. "Aww.. aw shit." Thick blood oozed from the wound and the man made a face. "Alright. You jus' stay right there." He turned and briskly walked away, glancing over his shoulder once to ensure she didn't suddenly get free.

    He made his way to apartment building 3, and then climbed the stairs. His destination was apartment #312, and he quickly found the proper door. The man took a deep breath, and stood on the welcome mat for a moment, before reaching up to knock. "Yo, Malakai you alive in there? It's Marcus. I would really appreciate your help dawg!" Marcus leaned back to peek around the corner, down at the pinned girl again. His eyes grew wide when he saw that she had somehow gotten her other hand free, and was attempting to push herself out from between the vehicles. He instantly turned back to the door in front of him and starting pounding rapidly. "I swear to god you best open up! I'mma kick yo ass if you ignoring me right now man! C'mon!"
  8. Olivia's Scandal

    Olivia's Scandal Well-Known Member Member

    Local Time:
    11:18 AM
    The little suburb was just inside the Fresno city limits outside of Clovis. A small two bedroom with a silent ambulance in the driveway stood with the shades drawn and the doors barricaded, protecting the two survivors within.
    Tuck peeked through the shades at the quiet and empty street, pensively drawing on a cigarette.
    Leaving the hospital had been hard enough, and travel since then had been slow going. Well, until they realized Tuck had stolen an emergency vehicle already running on fumes. Stopping for gas hadn't really been an option and now they were stuck.

    "Thought you gave that up!" came a familiar, grizzled voice. Tucker fought a smile and he blew a puff of smoke into the air before turning to face the older man stretched out on the couch in the dimly lit living room. Robert was still hooked to a variety of lines and wires, and he'd moved the mask away from his mouth to speak. Tuck had grabbed the necessary oxygen tanks and IV fluids, but the ambulance didn't hold many more supplies and the medication holding the worst of Robert's symptoms at bay had rapidly lost their effects once he stopped taking them.
    "I did, but in light of the new state of things, I figured it was time I stopped letting your silly cancer guilt trip me away from them. We're all good as dead, anyway." Tuck half joked, putting the cigarette out on the window sill just the same.

    "If that's the attitude that's supposed to get you back to my daughter, you're both screwed." Robert retorted before a coughing fit took over. Heaves wracked the man's body and Tucker silently moved to his side, unable to do anything more than offer a comforting hand placed on Robert's shoulder. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and it was becoming harder to tell if that was from the irritated tumors lining his throat, or if the ones in his lungs were starting to rupture.
    "You're not supposed to be talking." Tucker said quietly, using the corner of the thin hospital blanket covering Robert's frail body to wipe the blood up before moving the oxygen mask back in place. Robert looked like he might speak again, but must have thought better of it because he let his head rock back onto his pillow while he took a few shaky, wheezing breaths.

    Both men knew Robert's time was running out, though they'd both avoided discussing it out loud. Tucker had wanted so badly to get him back to Kate, even if it was just to say goodbye. Now they were both stuck and Tuck knew he'd be the only one leaving.
    For awhile, they'd kept up with the news reports filtering in and out on the radio. They knew the military had been trying to build a safe zone somewhere near downtown Fresno. They'd remained hidden when droves of the monsters that had taken over passed through the streets. Robert had kept his thoughts to himself when Tucker refused to open the doors for citizens begging for sanctuary. And for the past two days, the world outside had been quiet. Maybe they were the only two people left.

    But Tucker's head wouldn't allow him to believe that. Just because Kate's phone had started going straight to voicemail well before the cell towers dropped service altogether didn't mean she wasn't out there. Kate was smart, Tuck had to believe she'd made it out of Goldleaf and into Fresno. Maybe she'd even gotten back to the house and armed up with one of the many guns in their safe. She could shoot. And she'd probably be a lot better off that he was, considering all he had was his department issued .9 mil and the spare bullets he'd happened to have on hand. If the mass of infected that had passed through earlier in the week was any indication of how these things traveled, Tucker felt pretty confident he could take out at least 12 before having to figure out how to deal with the other dozen or so.

    "You gotta stop waiting, son..." Robert rasped, his forehead beaded with sweat, no doubt from the pain.
    "I can't leave you here, old man." Tucker said, forcing another grin as he clapped one hand over Robert's.
    "I'm not going.... anywhere...." came the labored reply. Tucker's jaw tensed and he only gave the bony hand in his a gentle squeeze.
    "If we keep... sitting here.... I'll just drown in my own.... lungs." Robert continued, the effort sparking another bout of breathless coughing as he reached behind his head and pulled the pillow out from under it. Tucker eyed him warily as he roughly shoved the pillow over Tuck's ever tightening fist.
    "You've lost it, Bob." Tuck managed to say past the building lump in his throat.

    "There is one thing... you and I... treasure most.... I need you to hurry up and find her.... so I can rest in peace." Robert insisted, pushing the pillow feebly against the arms of the son he never had. Tuck almost didn't realize he now clutched the pillow rather than the old, rough hand.
    "I'll find her." Tuck promised, his tone steady, despite his trembling hands.
    "I know. That's why we were both lucky to find you." Robert smiled, moving the mask away from his mouth. He was wrong, of course. Tucker had been the lucky one. He didn't belong anywhere until he suddenly belonged with them. He wasn't supposed to have to say goodbye like this.
    Twenty minutes later, Tuck stood over the kitchen sink, unable to look towards the silent living room. There was an elephant on his chest and a boulder in his gut and he wasn't sure what to do now. What was he supposed to tell Kate? Would it be better that she knew he'd found Robert at all? Or would not knowing be the real comfort?
    Guess he didn't need to worry one way or the other until he managed to at least leave the house.
    Tuck couldn't leave Robert there on the couch. He owed him far more than that. With that in mind, Tuck decided he'd leave as soon as Robert's body was taken care of. With any luck, he'd be headed out before nightfall.

    Meanwhile, Kitty was anxiously preparing to greet the inbound convoy, full of new refugees that would need to be checked and given packages of allotted food and water.
    As busy as she was, she still couldn't avoid dwelling on the hope Tucker would be among them. Scrubs were hard to come by, so Kitty had been instructed to report to the tents as she was, and then she was given an army green ball cap to identify her as a medical volunteer. The next tent revealed a line of tables with various tools and equipment they might need and Kitty was given a stethoscope, a thermometer, an otoscope, and a small flashlight.

    Doc Thomas sought her out soon after and walked her down what they were now calling "tent row", pointing out where to send people with minor injuries, where they were keeping the basic medical supplies, and the clipboards they were using to keep track of the new members.
    Finally she was given a stack of red wristbands with different numbers printed on them, their makeshift hospital bracelets, to place on each approved refugee's arm.
    "So, for now I'm going to have you sit at the tables near the entrance, the trucks will come in, the refugees will be unloaded, and they'll line up. You and the other volunteers will start exams, try to keep it simple and short. Temp right off the bat, then eyes, ears, throat. Bracelet and then send em down the line. Soldiers will be posted behind you, anyone with elevated temperatures or symptoms of any kind, they'll handle it. Bruises, cuts, broken bones, apply basic first aid and then send em to the tents. Anything that looks like a scratch or bite, the soldiers will deal with. Any questions?" the doctor asked, stopping in front of the tables and eyeing her carefully.

    "No, I don't think so..." Kitty replied tentatively, taking a seat and turning to spot the row of armed soldiers behind her, idly chatting as they waited for something to do. She couldn't help but wonder if she'd have the capacity to turn away a refugee just for sneezing or having a cough. How heart wrenching that would be... Not to mention the possibility of families getting separated. As if reading her mind, Doctor Thomas clapped a hand on her shoulder.
    "Hey, don't worry. This should be fairly easy, the soldiers bringing them in should have already taken a look at everyone before loading. Think of the processing more as a formality than a test they have to pass." he winked, turning and leaving Kitty to herself.
  9. Incognus

    Incognus Master Schemer Member

    Local Time:
    10:18 AM
    July 30th | Noon | Fresno Suburbs Community

    Casey had finished her spiked coffee, and was admiring a framed photograph in the living room. She picked it up. The picture was old, and depicted a middle aged couple sitting on a new bench in front of a home, with a lovely flourishing garden off to the side that was partially out of frame. The bench was the same as the one outside of the house where Dewey sat, and the garden looked just as lovely in the front lawn as it did in the picture. She could almost hear Charles describing the photo to her, from when she'd first picked it up a few days ago.

    "Margaret always took care of the garden. She had the greenest thumb out of anyone else I've ever known," he'd told her, "Even when she started getting sick, that woman would insist on going out there and tending to it."

    Casey put the photo back down. She turned her head to the back hallway, to the closed door behind which Charles still kept all of her things. Margaret Dewey had contracted kidney cancer five years ago, and passed away after three years of treatment. The brunette sighed. She'd changed her mind, there was no way she could stay cooped up in the house today, not again.

    Casey walked to the couch and put on a pair of white, flat sandals. With these, she was wearing a pair of rolled, stretch jeans and a long, plain black shirt with half sleeves. Casey walked to the door and stepped out. Charles was pulling a few green stubs out from the dirt around the flowers. "The garden is looking good," Casey said, stopping to admire it.

    Charles looked up, "Nah," he shook his head, "This is unkempt and simple compared to the array of plants Margaret used to have."

    "Well, it still looks nice," Casey insisted.

    Charles nodded in thanks. "Did you come out to sit with me?" he asked, standing and tossing the last of the weeds out into the grass.

    "I think I'm just going to go for a walk."

    "Good," Charles nodded again, "You want to take this with you?" He motioned towards the shotgun propped against the bench. He was smiling, but it didn't seem like the offer was a complete joke.

    "No, god. I would shoot my foot off before I did anything useful with that."

    "Alright," he shrugged, "Just be careful then." The old man took a seat back down on the bench.

    "That's what the soldiers are here for, Charles," she reassured him, turning to leave.

    Casey didn't know where she was going, she just started walking. The fresh air felt nice, but Charles had been correct in his previous prediction. It was midday now and the temperature was beginning to get hot. The brunette walked down the subdivision, keeping a careful eye out, and admired the houses she passed. There were some broken windows and kicked in doors, destroyed lawns and missing mailboxes, but other than the occasional damage it almost looked normal. Almost. The biggest thing missing was the occasional traffic and the people. Everything was so much quieter now than a couple weeks ago. It was slightly unsettling.

    Casey walked around a corner, and found herself looking at a long line of tents down the road. The setup was near the edge of the community, and there were a handful of people moving about, along with a number of soldiers. Casey approached out of curiosity. This was the first time she'd actually been out of the Dewey household for more than 10 minutes. She hadn't explored the sanctuary that had been miraculously established around her, because she hadn't felt up to it until now. As Casey approached she caught a soldier's eye, and he walked over to her.

    "Are you here to volunteer?" he asked the woman.

    "Oh, no I was just taking a walk," she replied.

    "Well," the soldier asked, "Would you be willing to help out? We could use all the hands we can get."

    Casey hesitated, "What for?"

    "Medical checkups. We have some survivors coming in and we need to give each of them an examination."

    "Oh, I- I don't know. I don't have any experience-" Casey tried to decline, but the soldier interrupted her.

    "None needed. We'll just have you assist one of the medical personnel." The brunette hesitated again, tilting her head in a gesture of uncertainty. "We could really use the help ma'am."

    Casey sighed, "Alright, I guess I could try and help." She said, letting the soldier guilt her into it.

    He smiled and nodded. "Thank you, we really appreciate it."

    Casey was led into the tent filled area, and brought up to a man who she assumed was in charge of running the operation. "Doctor Thomas? I have another looking to help," the soldier who recruited Casey told him.

    "Ah, perfect," Thomas replied, "You can assist Kate, over there." He pointed to his left at a curly haired brunette standing next to a nearby tent. "Just ask her what she needs, and tell her I sent you." Casey nodded and turned to walk over. "Oh, wait. Put this on," The doctor said, holding out a green ball cap. Casey gave a nod and took it from him. She didn't put it on right away though, instead she walked over to Kate with the thing in her hands. The hat was ugly, and Casey had no intention of actually wearing it.

    "Hey," Casey spoke up, after approaching the woman from behind, "Um, are you Kate? Doctor Thomas sent me over. He said you could use some help?"
  10. DisplacedAnger

    DisplacedAnger Wild Member Member

    Local Time:
    8:18 AM
    July 30th | 13:00 | Fresno Suburbs
    Unexpected pounding on his front door, which hadn't so much as been touched in days, startled him from his state of steady gun gleaning into a state of short-lived panic. The moment this passed, the disassembled weapon in his hand was set upon the small coffee table in front of him and his .45 side arm snapped up.

    "Yo, Malakai you alive in there? It's Marcus. I would really appreciate your help dawg!"

    Well the voice was muffled through the door, yet he knew the name and the man it belonged to.. How the hell he'd made it here and through his apartment complex, however, was nothing short of a bit suspicious.. Until the knocking and plead became a wee bit more urgent.

    "I swear to god you best open up! I'mma kick yo ass if you ignoring me right now man! C'mon!"

    Malakai briskly jogged to the door and unlocked its flimsy deadbolt, leaning against the cool wood for a moment with weapon poised for a breach before taking down a deep breath.. "Better not be bringing any of whatever those things are in there with you when I open this fuckin' door, Marcus.." he warned with a hushed yet stern voice before quickly yanking open the door.

    Like the trained militant he'd been, the movement was sharp, and JUST enough to allow the huskier dark-skinned man to slip through the threshold whilst Malakai covered him with a hungry pistol out into the outside world.. which he hadn't seen in days. His eyes rested upon what started Marcus - the pinned girl between two cars trying to escape - and the uncertainty only grew as he'd been unsure if these things remembered how to come up stairs or not...

    "Just how the fuck did you even get here, Marcus?" he questioned, shutting the door and locking it while setting his weapon on the kitchen counter as he moved to grab a couple of drinks from a fridge now suffering a bad case of 'burned out light bulb.'

    It be clear to see the man was unwell in his train of thoughts - bottles of medication were set up along the kitchen counter, should Marcus look (despite it being in plain sight), with sticky notes labeled by medication type, expiration date, and amounts. Some of them were worryingly low and some he seemed to have quite a bit of stock on..

    Peering down the hallway to his bedroom all Marcus would see is a random tattering of strewn about clothing, as if he'd pit picked what was useless and what wasn't, and his military bag. Other weaponry wouldn't be instantly visual just then, and the flat screen TV had a constant low drum of the news.. which seemed to be more repeats of the same old emergency broadcast system than anything new.. Any new information view news seemed to come in less and less as the days went by, as well as how easy his power stayed connected..

    Even as he handed Marcus a disgusting Pabst beer with an apologetic frown Malakai couldn't help but wonder what was next.. "I'm not about to go running out there right now, Marcus.. Not until I get a more firm grasp on the situation."

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